#i can choose to become a robot arm operator after a month

[mechanically-made]

chat I offer you pictures of the wonderful machines at my job as well as some of my favorite signs...

[haleighdennis]

The Trial of Megatron Part One: The End? Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2.1

    It wasn’t time to head back to earth yet. The team would have an Elite Guard escort assigned to them for their return trip, but until then, they would wait at a residential area just outside of Iacon, which scads of maintenance workers called home. Some worked in Cybertron’s underground, unclogging pipes that would stop up with time and refreshing the planet’s lubrication and subterranean oil supply. Others were aboveground specialists. Still others operated in deep space, assuring that Cybertron’s moons and sister planets were orbiting free of obstructions, assessing the condition of the large windscape flags that deflected solar storms from the Commonwealth and clearing space bridges.

    It was here that most of Optimus Prime’s crew lived whenever their spacebridge repair duties brought them back to Cybertron. The camp was no-frills, built to satisfy only the basic needs of its inhabitants. Even so, most Cybertronians were content with its basic accommodations.

    On the other hand, Sari had been raised in the modern, opulent, comfortable shelter of Sumdac Tower from the moment she was born. Things changed when her father went missing. Having to stay in the crew’s makeshift base in an old car manufacturing plant for upwards of six months was difficult at first. Living with friends made life easier, though and she soon grew accustomed to the plant’s drab colors, undecorated rooms and unconventional layout.

    Seeing the Autobot barracks for the first time made her appreciate her friends’ sympathy for that downtrodden and neglected base, which, despite its charmless halls, was still considered home to them. The rows of apartments here emitted a pseudo-suburban feel, and the sense of neighborly connection that Sari sensed in most any human township was replaced by a cold closeness, as if you were alone in the world: one of many sardines in a can.

    Again, most Autobots wouldn’t mind, but Sari felt claustrophobic as she stood with Bumblebee and Bulkhead near the entrance to one of the studio apartments.

    “Sooo���” Sari said, standing in the apartment’s doorway, just one human-sized step away from the main room. “This is Optimus’s place, huh?”

    “Yeah,” Bulkhead replied, “looks more like a library than living quarters, though.”

    These types of small, three-room dwellings were standard issue to most spacebridge crewbots, who inevitably didn’t spend much time at home. Other than the living room, a single storage room and a bedroom were the dwelling’s only other commodities. Understandably, it was somewhat of a downgrade from Optimus’s old Autobot Academy dorm where two to four students could enjoy spaces for study, lifestyle and exercise. Clearly, the lack of creature comforts in the maintenance district had not stopped Optimus from learning all he could in his down time. His living space was clearly too small to hold the plethora of learning materials a former dedicated student would own.

    Spacebridge repair meant working far from civilization for stellar centuries at a time. Orbital cycles of searching out problem areas in the network meant a crew only cleared a bridge about once every two deca-cycles. Despite the mundane and laborious nature of this work, diligent crews would be given a stellar cycle’s leave after returning to Cybertron. Some crewbots got together with old friends or enjoyed a vacation on a moon base, but Optimus spent his time in study, sometimes even volunteering at Iacon’s datatrax library as an assistant bookkeeper. Before coming to earth, ‘home’ for him became wherever a treasure trove of knowledge was.

    Bumblebee and Bulkhead were more the generic type. They essentially stuck together whether or not they were at work, sometimes exploring the corners and byroads of Iacon, other times enjoying day visits to familiar spots. One stellar cycle, the two visited Bulkhead’s hometown on Moon Base One. Bumblebee had never been to the moons before and remembered the atmosphere being denser than on Cybertron and the erupting energon deposits made the air slightly pinkish. Nevertheless, the amiable robots that lived there fit Bulkhead’s easygoing personality perfectly. They were unassuming, slow moving and mostly hospitable, save a few curmudgeonly farming folk. Bulkhead was lucky to be reared up around ‘bots that encouraged his early interest in spacebridges and his then-grandiose aspirations of moving to the “big city” before his boot camp days.

    Bumblebee wasn’t protofromed into that kind of environment, but into the overpopulated city of Kalis. He quickly discovered that he had to fight his way to the top of the heap if he ever wanted to become something more than a generic cog: a face in the crowd. Ironically, Bulkhead always seemed totally content with life, even though – in opposition to Bumblebee’s reach-for-the-stars mentality – he tended to set relatively low expectations for himself. Bumblebee could count on one servo the times that Bulkhead had complained or, like him, stared forlornly into the eyes of fate longing for something more in life to pop up and give him purpose. It didn’t matter if the two of them were on Cybertron or on an asteroid. Bulkhead was always kind. And being hailed as heroes on earth for the last two stellar cycles hadn’t altered him either.

    The two of friends had been to their commander’s modest compartment before and felt the same sense of something erudite gushing out from behind every row of shelves and neatly stacked mound of notes in cybertronian lettering. Unceremoniously, Sari scrambled up of one of the stacks and sat with her hands in her lap. “Too bad we have to wait here all day. I can’t even read this stuff.”

    “Well,” Bulhkhead began, “we don’t have to stay here. It’s just that this is your first time on Cybertron and we don’t want anybot getting on edge if they see you. Besides, Prime will be here soon; he just had to go to Kaon for that official visit he was talking about.”

   Rathcet was also incapacitated, as he had been called to meet with Perceptor and the Science Guild to discuss the status and argue the fate of Omega Supreme.

    At that moment, Bumblebee had one of his trademark bright ideas, the kind that were always bound to end in collateral damage and a firm scolding from Optimus. Voicing his opinion on the matter of staying in all day, he said, “Sari’s right, though! This place is a bore. All we can do here is walk in circles!” He waved his arms in the air. “There’s got to be some place in Iacon that we can take her so she won’t be seen.”

    “Cool! Sightseeing!” Sari agreed.

    Bulkhead squinted, deep in thought. “I don’t know, Bumblebee. You know what happened last time we left the team without telling anyone.”

    Bulkhead had a point there. Two months ago, the threesome had abandoned monitor duty in the plant for an exploratory adventure into the heart of Detroit.

    Still Bumblebee was steadfast, “Hey! We busted that green ring, didn’t we? Well, didn’t we?!?”

    Sari concurred, “Aaaand, prevented that gang war. It was all really educational, too! I never knew Detroit was so seedy!”

    Bumblebee fidgeted. “C’mon, Bulkhead. Nothing that bad could possibly happen here. This is our home. There are no supervillains or Porter C. Powell’s to slow us down. Besides! She’ll be right with us the whole time. We know this city.”

    Bulkhead glanced one more time at the room of books then rolled his eyes in surrender. “Fine, but I choose where we go, got it?”

    “Yeah, Yeah. Absolutely!” Bumblebee said, transforming to car mode, “Hop in Sari! I’ve got an idea of where we can go!”

    Sari smirked and Bulkhead sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

[shewassoferal]

about Jemma page for mobile

basic information

FULL NAME: Jemma Anne Simmons ETHNICITY: Jewish ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION: straight (but demiromantic) and very confused by romance since she hasn't experienced it yet (and has trouble understanding what isn't spelled out to her, feelings-wise). Will be very into hook ups (even if I often fade to black). RELIGION: atheist SPOKEN LANGUAGE: English, British and American Sign Languages, Italian, some Spanish, Latin. (oddly good with accents) OCCUPATION: (genius) biochemist and field agent until the Monolith, then mostly consultant for the lab department and operative.

physical traits

TATTOOS: a small compass on her bikini line, on the left. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: after the planet, two very large scars along her stomach and belly (wounds that she had to cauterize), an equally treated long scar around her arm, inches below her wrist. A scar left from a bite on her lower back. Her skin is black around her wrists because of a tentacle plant, she usually wears wristbands to hide it. Several smaller scars on her arms and legs. A scar from scoliosis surgery on her back. More burns on her torso from Giyera. After s4, a scar from a stab wound left by LMD Fitz, a smaller one over her hairline from him as well, and another robot programmed by fear!Doctor shot her other leg. And freckles.

phobias and disorders

PHOBIAS: see her about. MENTAL DISORDERS: PTSD and autism.

biography/about

The most important part to read because I'm very canon divergent, or at least you should read s3 and the effects of the planet and this page, especially if you don't know aos well. Crossovers can always happen and are welcomed (aus with those are in the verse page). After she comes back from Maveth, she'll always wear warmers to hide the scars on her arms or gauntlets and, on missions, when she might be still out at night she has goggles/glasses to see in the dark and not freak out, as well as weapons always hidden all over her clothes. Every now and then she might use more tech we have seen in the show, like a gauntlet that can create a shield (also worn over her arm). Keep in mind that while I tend to give as many flaws as they have qualities, how many weaknesses as they have strengths (you spend time bettering something, something else will be ignored), I write this specific Jemma as still a genius but also a fighter hard to defeat; she gets injured a lot around season 3, she's still learning proper moves, but doesn't let that stop her and in the next seasons she's getting better with training. She's pretty easy to put into lots of "cliché" plots we see on tumblr, where she's the muse who is beyond protective, grumpy at first and soft later, sassy, fighty, gets constantly hurt, takes everything too literally, she doesn't expect to be loved and feels like a bad person but will not make choices for others (she learned from past mistakes) and allow them to be close to her while warning them about the risks. When she melts, she's still extra cute and loving, though. Jemma considers her team a family. Often, but not much during season 3, I write her as a pretty sassy, gruff friend who is, of course, sweet and compassionate to people she loves, but also awkward, not too good at interacting with people appropriately, petty, vindictive, mean to people she doesn't like, cocky, yet full of self-hatred when it comes to her past mistakes, prone to guilt and hiding her problems, and, in a way, ready to be 'taken in' by your character and to form some strong bond in which she's protective and either openly supportive or hiding it behind a bickering exterior. She also lost lots of her impulse control and the filter between thoughts and words. She'll get in constant trouble as always, rush into danger, and scold her friends for doing the same. She'll react to things with her weird brand of humor, but also panic, temporarily lose hope, need comfort, just like an other normal person; she cannot be expected to give people constant hope and be optimistic since she has her own burdens to carry but she'll do her best to help. Season 1 is pretty much the same, bubbly scientist who needs to be reminded of what's creepy and inappropriate and likes following rules as long as she agrees with them, but since she has no medical training I headcanon that she wings it and is very proud of herself for making it work. She's not meant to be a doctor, however, and will be extremely freaked out whenever performing surgery; in season 1 and in every other season she will run away to cry right after. She has no idea that Lorelei did more to Ward than to just use him to find their Bus, or she wouldn't be joking about men being weaker than women. She did NOT have a crush on Grant Ward; she cleaned up her language to avoid an awkward moment with Coulson when interrogated in season 3, but Jemma simply felt sexual attraction for him. (She felt sexual attraction towards many men she met, since they were her type in one way or another). She's also not the extra nice and friendly person as she's usually mistaken for, but she hides mean comments or her cockyness behind a sweet voice. She was already vindictive and ready to fight in s1, as well as overconfident. She is a loving and supportive friend but only to either people she likes or those she just met who need a hand. Season 2 She trained before going undercover and never stopped; driven by PTSD, her vengeful streak, her distance from the team and her self-hatred, Jemma started believing that making hard calls and being the expendable one was her role in the team; that, and to protect her friends not only from threats but from becoming like her. They were the good guys, she was just trying her best. Killing Ward was an obsession that she had a hard time letting go of, and she was ready to give her life for several reasons, but it was still hurtful to be believed capable of hurting Daisy. She had a harder time forgiving Bobbi and Mack, she didn't blame Kara Palamas for her brainwashing - though she definitely still judged the couple Kara-Ward (when she hates someone she'll be biased and petty). From her point of view, Ward was probably using her. Either there was never a love declaration from Fitz or, if you are a Fitz rper, we can plot differently. There will be no Will so either way we'll skip that love triangle. disclaimer for who didn't read the previous pages and jumped to this: crossovers can always happen (aus with those are in the verse page). After she comes back from the planet, she'll always wear warmers to hide the scars on her arms, and on missions when she might be still out at night she has goggles/glasses to see in the dark and not freak out, and weapons hidden all over her clothes. Every now and then she might use more tech we have seen in the show, like a gauntlet that can create a shield (also worn over her arm). Keep in mind that while I tend to give as many flaws as they have qualities, how many weaknesses as they have strengths, I write this specific Jemma as a fighter hard to defeat; she gets injured a lot around season 3, she's still learning proper moves, but doesn't let that stop her and in the next seasons she's getting better with training. On the planet or season 3 Jemma has lived one year in Maveth, while it was six months for people on Earth, and has adapted to the place, responding to the constant threats and violence by turning just as feral as the beasts there. There was a red 'sun' and I have several headcanons on flora and fauna but it's something that can be told by Jemma if she's asked. A tentacle plant left her skin black around her wrists, and she has two large cauterized wounds along her abdomen, another cauterized cut on her arm, and a small bite mark on her back. She found a Kree staff and used it to hunt, becoming much better at fighting, but thinking too much meant hesitating and dying, so she had to rely on instincts and that impulsive behavior became a part of her. She also still talked to her friends as if they were there while aware they were not. After the planet, season 3 or the Big Change It's obvious right away that Jemma isn't herself after Fitz takes her home: her health is terrible, she clings to her closest friends, she hides in her room (a new one she asked upstairs, because windows are vital for her), the hypervigilant and aggressive state she's in. It takes her more than a couple of weeks to come out of her room and start talking again, cautiously at first, and asking for dr. Garner's help. She doesn't share much about the planet unless prompted by her fear of accidentally hurting her friends. Here are some of the most noticeable consequences of what happened: She sleeps in the morning after dawn because is terrified of falling asleep at night. She lost the filter between thoughts and words and between thoughts and actions and is trying to find it again. She cannot stand the smell or sight of meat. It’s not a problem with meat being ‘meat’ itself; if she can hide the smell or make it look different (like salami) she can eat it. But she also has trouble with vivisecting/dissecting human and animal bodies and can’t really see a solution for it. She's violent when startled or grabbed though it gets better with time. Depending on the verse, after some therapy and after more misadventures, she might choose to leave. Her fighting skills are not at 'May' level because she only had the basic training before the planet, but after a year of fighting she has learned how to use her whole body and objects around her as weapons. She became REALLY good at climbing things and at ignoring pain too (however she lacks of natural reflexes connected to self-defense like trying too instinctively avoid blows). Of course she kept training, even if she's more of a biochemistry expert + unofficial op. She's still captured and tortured because of Malick, too scared to go back to that planet herself and ready to die for it; Hive being real is a nightmare coming true, and she tries to stay away from everything related to him. When Lincoln goes to die, however, she tries to take his place but doesn't make it in time, stopped by Mack and Fitz. When Daisy leaves, Jemma can't say she blames her. She'll do her best to earn Mace's trust just like in canon even if not with stellar results, and be equally wary. season 4 goes a lot like in canon, with her working at the lab again as much as that's possible for her, going on missions too, and plotting against Mace. Her emotional health starts getting to a better place, the constant training when she's not supervising lab scientists helps her become an even better fighter, and she has a safehouse just in case things turn south with Mace. Having to kill a LMD that looks just like Fitz brings back all her fears of hurting the team and she's gutted, barely able to keep it together in the Framework, and she's back to bad reflexes and insomnia. In season 5 she's immediately in trouble with Kasius because she's unable to let him touch her without responding aggressively, and because she's scarred instead of 'perfect'. He doesn't kill her right away and enslaves her instead, only because he has a feeling that she might be important (as in a SHIELD member of sorts). He still keeps touching her face, but because of her violence his admirations is more about her resorcefulness in that area, since she failed against Sinara but still attacked them in surprising ways, and for that reason she's not given a light blue tunic like his special - and perfect - servants but a black one, and a collar is put around her neck because Kasius already sees humans as animals and Jemma behaves like one more than any other, so it's a mockery instead of part of the slave outfit we saw in canon. She does cut his throat later, and it's his brother who goes against the rest of her team. She can't handle the situation once back home and spends days locked in her room. It will be plotted how Deke's mother came to life but she will be showing her soft side to him (and possibly, instead of 'the steps you take don't need to be big', it's her speech about laws of thermodynamics and how she'll go on to be a supernova, monkey, fish, the same from the pod, is the one that Deke's mother used to say to people, to comfort them about the constant death in the Lighthouse). But this is where I diverge from canon again, and in this case it can be plotted differently with Fitz and Daisy rpers since it involves them directly, but by default it was Fear!Doctor and Fear!Fitz who operated on Daisy; Jemma gets herself shot trying to help her because she can't hold back, while Fitz has been locked in another room. The team is still divided by this, Fitz has his own issues with what happened (but not a psychotic break), Daisy is hurt, Jemma is afraid and guilty. At the end of the season Fitz doesn't die, cryo!Fitz doesn't need to be awaken because he 'will' wake in the version of the world that has ended and finish the circle that ends the timeloop. Jemma is free to either stay with the team but work on healing again or leave SHIELD for a while. This way I'm free to keep writing Jemma as I want, and with whatever plots I want for her after s5. By now, she became a skilled fighter and won't be losing many fights (but might lose control and kill) but for obvious reasons she needs time to heal again. However, any point in time after season 3 she can leave the team and that encourages crossovers, as well as her working from SHIELD with people from other universes not so differently from canon, or cooperating with other members of the MCU. Not necessary to read to rp.

relationships

PARENTS: Daniel and Grace Simmons. She's emotionally abusive and he's too submissive to help; Jemma was close to him until he started working more and being home less (around the time she was six and her sister Cat was born), and that's when her mother started pushing Jemma to work for them not long after. Her grandmother and the house staff are the people who took care of Jemma the most. SIBLINGS: older brother Marcus, who hates her out of jealously, and younger sister Cat, who initially was raised almost like a daughter by Jemma, then after Jemma left for SHIELD pushed her out of her life because she felt rejected, especially since Jemma lied about why she stayed in the US and told everyone she'd be a party planner; around s3-s4 will learn the truth and be close to Jemma again. BODY ENHANCEMENTS/SCARS: pre academy: -big burn on the right side of her torso, visible under bra, from torture -thick scar from waist to her belly - from surgeries and poking around -tiny scar over her heart - from her brother Marcus -other tiny stab scar on her thigh - same as above -burns and cuts on her back - discipline/teaching her to focus while in pain -replaced spleen - teach Jemma how to perform part of her surgery, also to start replacing parts of her body with tech because it's 'better', more organs will be replaced later on also so that they won't collapse under duress when she's given drugs to be stronger and smarter, and of course because she might need to fight, and her new tech parts will require other organs to be enhanced too. Can't have her dying of heart attack because her heart couldn't take what she just did with her 'enhanced' body -tiny explosive tech in her brain hard to remove -two scars, one for each side of her head, where there has been some poking around. -for now her heartbeat is faster than it should be, and blood pressure is high instead of her usually low one. PLANNED, SOON: -artificial eye and arm -two metal plates on her calfs, work in progress, so she'll have enhanced lower limbs too at the end -heart is going to be 'enhanced' soon. BACKSTORY: Jemma is the daughter of the CEO of Roxxon, Daniel Simmons, but it's her mother, Grace, who is the real pupper master, on the board of command and feared by everyone for her power and lack of soul. With Roxxon being the richest multicompany who owns more or less anything and has financed every evil activity in the past decades around the world, Grace considers herself already victorious, but she's not done: she wants to turn her genius daughter Jemma into a perfect version of herself, with no feelings getting in the way of what she wants but still the same intelligence and creativity, which means that simply operating on her brain to remove her ability to feel guilt and love would be impossible due to complication that would likely make Jemma 'less efficient'. Jemma has to keep her mind, but said mind should be exactly the way Grace wants it to be. So while she looks for a solution and she has been working on thoroughly breaking her daughter, Grace has started to at least perfection Jemma's body with surgeries, of making Jemma herself perform them. After years of experimentation, using her youngest daughter Cat, that Grace had Jemma raise, as leverage (every year Jemma had to choose if still be experimented on or let her sister be the new victim, and every year Jemma chose herself), SHIELD found Jemma; back then Grace's role in Roxxon was more hidden, but after Jemma's rescue it was clear that while her daughter felt no loyalty towards Roxxon, they didn't have the power to destroy the whole organization, much less take down the Simmons family, and SHIELD had to decide what to do with the sixteen years old. Fury felt pity for the girl, but also saw the potential, and since Grace had clearly no interest in SHIELD, not considering it a threat, they kept Jemma as their agent, hiding of course classified information from her. Grace allowed Jemma to be in SHIELD, not needing her home anymore and well aware that she could ask Jemma to do anything for her sister, and that her daughter believes her to be invincible and has no hope when it comes to her. Jemma didn't even know about Roxxon itself, she simply thought her mother and father worked for some evil laboratory, and that was why she accepted SHIELD's deal not to tell anyone about her situation, just try to leave a normal life while she still could. Her friendship with Fitz was an unexpected source of strength that her mother didn't see coming, since she doesn't understand the power of human relationships, she simply knows it and finds ways to use it, but Jemma kept the secret because she believed Fitz wouldn't be in danger even if he was her friend. She'd say she trusted SHIELD to finish the job some day, when possible, and that if they hadn't yet it's probably because her family is so rich and powerful that it's impossible to win in court, but deep down she already feels there is something very wrong going on and that there is no hope. In season 2 that Coulson got the toolbox and found out what Fury and May already knew, Jemma's past abuse and situation, but also the intel they have on Roxxon, how her mother can't be brought down yet because if she dies, as a failsafe bombs will go off all over the country, how she has illimited intel on everyone and everything and won't hesitate going after people's families, or talking people into doing things that will leave them destroyed, and he had to warn Jemma about all of this, since with the fall of SHIELD and the rise of Hydra everything was now up in the air and Jemma had to choose for herself. Jemma couldn't go undercover in Hydra because of this or she'd be too noticeable, as the daughter of Grace, and since she wanted to stay away from Fitz, for more than a reason, she started training to be an operative and went on missions as much as possible but also tried to find the right moment and way to explain the truth about her past and make sure he wouldn't endanger himself for her anymore. Depending on the verse/situation, since she obsessed over Ward and tried to find everything on his backstory, she can either hate him even more out of fear that in her future she'll betray the team just like him and end up in the same vault, or feel empathy and like she can relate. It's also up to her if to tell her team about her family or not, and how. To her, it still seems safer to not say anything unless she has to, so no one will try to be a hero and fight them for her, which would result in their deaths or worse. She's aware that one day, any day, her mother might call her and ask her to do something she can't refuse, or simply take her back home for more experiments and 'enhancements'. That also definitely put a 'nothing can ever happen' label on all romantic relationships, which was there even before she knew about Roxxon, and after finding out just how powerful her family is, and not only a problem for her but for everybody, she's not sure friendship should be in her future either, but at the same time she feels she owes people the truth and yet that she has to protect them from it. Potential Deathlok Jemma in s2 or at least she'll be in need of prosthetics at some points. Potential 'attempt to offer Jemma to Hive' in s3 Potential Evil LMD Jemma after s4, who will be given to her mother by Ivanov and be the closest thing to a 'perfect' Roxxon Jemma, ruthless, partly detached from reality, sadistic, wants to win at everything, feels no care for anything whatsoever except her mother.

[korean-brave-police-blog]

[Long Post] The World of KBP: Launch

[This post covers how the KBP were made and goes into info about KBP-001, "Soulflight" and KBP-002, "J-Mambo"]

The creation of the KBP was very huge for the public as South Korea stands for the most cutting-edge of technology and innovation on Earth, but they haven't their own mecha team as the rest of the world's countries have made. When the announcement was made to the public, their hope in the dark times had finally come.

AND WOW LOOK AT THIS REALLY FANCY ROBOT, THOSE RESOURCES WERE DEFINELTY PUT TO THINGS THAT MATTER--

Well, whether or not the resources were used in the best way, the base line is that they have a robot who can go against the enemy robots which saves a considerable amount of soldiers from being sent out.

So now I'll cover some info about the KBP that was released for public knowledge.

First and foremost, the KBP are hard-wired with the 3 Rules of Robotics (With some edits made by the KBP to keep the AI in check.)

1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2) A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

Of course the 1st law outranks the others but since the KBP Devs think a bit further on this, they changed the 1st law into 2 pieces: Law 1A and 1B. So the bit that really matters supercedes above the latter.

1A) A robot may not injure a human being

1B) A robot may not allow a human being come to harm

So in the case that the KBP Mechas turn against humans, the KBP Devs are still responsible for creating them but since they cannot harm humans, they don't look like a bunch of idiots making free-roaming weapons of destruction. (There is more information about their protocol but that hasn't been polished yet, which will be added in the future.)

As far as the public knows, KBP-001 or "Soulflight" is the proud boy representing the nation and he is going to run those murky bots back to where they came from or demolish them to scrap.

What the public doesn't know is that he's fresh out of the computer he popped out of. To put it in perspective, KBP-001 is basically a kid forced to mature in the span of a few months and armed to the teeth with a mission and firepower to back it up.

Well not exactly a kid per-say but the technology for AI hasn't been mastered at all and the KBP Devs are set on that very goal. Since the technology at that time cannot make a perfect scan of the human mind when its fully matured, something to do with how the brain develops and how it conflicts with the conversion of organic to artificial intelligence. It sounds completely bullshit but we found out the laws of physics can be broken so there's plenty of science-fuckery to go around.

Which brings us to another reason why the government wasn't all too ready for this program, allowing young adults and teenagers to be experimented with. But hey- there's literal robots from the deep sea ready to tear us apart at all sides of our nation! So morals are going to be stretched here. That being said, there isn't enough time or resources to test if this actually works out or even build a prototype so the Devs gave the green light to make the final product on the first try.

"OH BOY WE'RE ACTUALLY DOING THIS" - KBP Dev Team Employee #22

So yea, KBP-001 is not the gleaming finished product he seems to be but he works for now.

Moving on to how the AI for the KBP are made: They are based on organic intelligence, aka human minds and this is done by taking a scan of a human brain at the right window of development that works in tandem with the state of AI technology and that will convert into a AI-compatible template to piece together your ~Dream Robot~ Aka, the Devs. and their team get to work on taking away what they don't want, add in what they do, hardline the KBP protocol, format a personality that'll sell it to the public and work with our operations and ding! You got a working custom pre-programmed AI.

So yes, Soulflight here isn't fully developed, in fact he's so hastily made that he's had to be reeled back by covert operations in the case that he decides to not follow the scouting mission objective and go this way- Wow! Is that a city? With humans driving around in cars? Hey I can turn into a car, could I go meet them?

(God bless the covert ops team. How did they bring home a 17 ft robot with flashy decor and paintjob is something only they will know how to do.)

So later on, missions become smoother as Soulflight learns from field training and under controlled circumstances, is introduced to the cities and people he was built to protect. As time goes on, the Devs notice something they don't like about Soulflight's AI. The fact that he prioritizes humans over the mission objective. While technically Soulflight isn't breaking any rules, he's following protocol and he completes the mission objective, but because of the order of priority his AI chooses, it doesn't align with what the Devs want of their KBP team.

Hypothetical Scenario: Soulflight is instructed to secure and defend an objective from an incoming wave of enemy robots but on the block over- he sees that a group of humans are in danger from an attacker. Soulflight naturally prioritizes human safety over all else, so he puts the original mission on hold to save the humans and arrest the offender. Only after ensuring the humans are safe, then he returns to complete his mission.

Unknown to the public, the Devs have programmed Soulflight (Later on the rest of the KBP Team) to have their commands to be able to take priority over the 3 Laws. This command has to be issued by a Dev themselves, and it's only effective as long as the command is enabled. If the command was always enabled, it would frankly defeat the purpose of the protocol implemented.

After some time of Soulflight running around, they get approved to start working on KBP-002 or "J-Mambo".

The Devs aren't all that happy with how Soulflight turned out, but now that they have one mecha out there keeping both the robot threat at bay and the public under a sense of protection, they can take some more time with developing J-Mambo. So far, he's planned to become an addition to the Black Ops unit of the KBP. J-Mambo brings stealth capability despite his large frame as he functions like a modular mecha would. Not only is he large enough to safely carry drones inside the large plates of his armor but he can carry payloads and other things that can either fit in his armor or install compartments on his frame. Because of his modular design, he can also slim himself down for missions that wouldn't require the equipment or needs for him to enter personally. Although he isn't confirmed for public release yet, his identity is kept anonymous when sent out to the field for testing or low-heat missions.

[That's what I got for now, thanks for reading so far! I plan to add on to this post after I write out the remainder to this part.]

[kronecker-delta]

A Short Nier: Automata Crossover Snippet

Some superhero crossover ideas I’ve seen recently reminded me of something I'd been tossing around. Mostly as the attempt to write something generally humorous and just fun for a change but also involving Superheroes. And I mean quite a bit more lighthearted than most anything else I've taken a swing at. (That and the recent Scooby Doo crossovers last year reminded me of this show.)

Nier: Automata/Batman: Brave and the Bold

Things were about as bad as they could get. Or so she had thought.

"At last," Brainiac, that evil testament to the technological prowess of Colu and the Computer Tyrants thereof, shouted loudly. "With this last component my trans-spatial booster is now complete. No longer will I need to painstakingly hack individual systems one at a time. Through this device I could take control of every piece of technology on an entire planet. From the simplest kitchen appliance to even crude automata such as yourselves."

White would have been more insulted, but after the last four months of captivity on her own station she'd grown rather used to the constant rain of abuse the green skinned alien robot levied against any and all he saw as inferior. Though she at least didn't have to suffer alone.

A pair of apparently younger girls, identical in appearance like those long discontinued twin models, were held in a glass prison much like her own.

"Serves them right for siding with this mad man in return for whatever paltry knowledge he had offered them."

Her hands clenched tight, thinking about how this had only been so easy for mechanical monster before her because of other more personal betrayals. The Terminals had only been able to offer Brainiac information on the Bunker's backdoor and the opening it gave to the rest of the Android networks because those security weak points had been pre-installed. Though it did give her some small satisfaction to see them as they now were, their once impossibly vast and amorphous meta-data entities forced into material shells by some strange whim of Earth's new master.

All she could figure is that he must have liked collecting things. That alone didn't shock her as much. Her old partner in the Resistance had had her odd interests after all, much like some YoRHa members had with mechanical fish.

"I can only hope she's still alive. Along with all the rest."

After Brainiac had shut down the Army of Humanity's defenses he'd sequestered the higher consciousness of the machine networks and taken over all the machines that hadn't yet disconnected once they realized what was happening. She knew many had survived his take over, but with the advanced alien technology he had to equip them with it hardly mattered. Within weeks newly operational Brainiac Battlebots built to his specifications were enforcing his will across both light and dark sides of the Earth.

The now enslaved Androids and Machines forced to work side by side with their millennia long enemies under the watchful gaze of Brainiac's forces and their over-sized plasma cannons. Though it looked like whatever he had had them gathering materials for was now complete.

Which probably wasn't a good thing.

"You have completed your work here Brainiac," the Terminals said, voices synced together. "Given your previous statements of intent on acquiring advanced technology I fail to see what you gain by remaining here."

"Unfortunately for you the value of the knowledge I possess is inversely related to how many others know it as well. This will sadly require your... elimination." Brainiac's smile clearly should how false any sympathy his words might have implied really was. "But do not despair. Your world will have the honor of serving as the first test of my new weapon."

"But why?" White asked. "You've already acquired everything from our data servers."

"I may have read them yes. But this device can also be used to write."

"No... he can't mean-"

Brainiac had already turned back towards the enormous console that dominated the control room. Pulling levers as a low whine began to build, the draw from the stations fusion reactors growing greater as it prepared to activate. "Yes, as I'm sure you've realized by now your world presents a perfect opportunity for this device to be used for this purpose. In mere minutes every computer system will be overwritten with my own programming. Granting me an army of drones ready to conquer new worlds for the glory of Brainiac!"

She looked to her side and saw a similar expression of horror on the faces of the Terminal twins. The dawning dread that came upon them as the realized that they and all on the world below them would become pale copies of this insane alien tyrant in his demented quest to consume all knowledge in the cosmos.

The seconds ticked away as the time before their annihilation and 'replacement' narrowed to a razor's edge. All hope seemed lost as he flipped the final switch.

Only for a reprieve from oblivion to impact in the form of an explosive bolt detonating the computer console in a shower of sparks and metal shrapnel.

The cloud of smoke and debris had only only just begun to disperse when Brianiac screamed out in rage. "Who dares interfere with my experiment? Which of you misguided scrap heaps from the ruined world below would court death by challenging I, the most advanced synthetic life form in the universe?!"

His response was another explosive projectile, this one impacting against a shield of green energy he summoned before his body. Up above, the source could be discerned in the glare of the red emergency lights that had come on. A solitary figure perched on the walkway above.

"Is this all? I shouldn't be surprised that so few of you would embrace such futility. But I would have thought even beings of your limited intellect would recognize how futile such a limited force would be."

"Damn, you do like to hear yourself talk don't you?" The interloper had a woman's voice and a rough tone to it. White could almost swear it sounded vaguely familiar.

Such thoughts were pushed aside as Brainiac extended a battery of tentacles from his back, issuing forth a barrage of green energy blasts to rain down on the target of his fury. They began running to the left, their form obscured by the fire retardant gases now being pumped out. With a great leap the jumped from the upper walkway down to the floor before, rolling into a ready stance with their weapon aimed towards the alien robot. Some sort of improvised crossbow by the looks of it, an odd if not utterly unknown weapon to use.

Though the outfit was the more shocking element. Their head and hair covered by a red cloak, and from the shadows that obscured their face she could see that a matching mask lay under it over their eyes. Aside from that it looked like they'd cobbled together a little of any and every weapon they could find. A bandoleer of more explosives on their chest, a damaged pod system carried on one side and satchel on the other.

The lack of melee weapons made it likely they weren't one of YoRHa coming to rescue her. Not that that didn't surprise her. Brainiac had saw no reason not to reveal the fate of Humanity to his new slaves during one of his many gloating monologues about the poor inferior creations he had come to grant new purpose to.

While she didn't know the identity of their rescuer, Brainiac did not seem to share that problem. "Now I recognize you. You're that irritant that's been bombing my construction sites recently? The self-styled Android Avenger going by the messages you choose to etch into my drones after you destroyed them? Ha, I shouldn't be surprised that automatons built to be so...human would express such contemptible patterns of behavior when placed under the right amount of stress."

"You got that right. I've been under a lot of stress since you came here and started screwing things up." They stepped slowly to the side, though for what purpose White could not tell. They were caught out in the open and it was clear that Brainiac's weapons and defense were far superior to what they had. Which made the cocky smile they now had all the more surprising. "But then that's why I didn't come here alone."

A sextet of projectiles impacted then. Smaller explosions that did even less damage as Brainiac lifted his arms to block them. But clearly further enraging him as he turned to face the newest intruder.

Only to take a step back at whatever he saw.

"I-Impossible!"

"You're technological tyranny is at an end Brainiac! There's cell waiting for you on Oa after we shut you down for good."

"Batman! How could you possibly follow me here?!"

"You must have had even more screws loose when you reassembled your new body if you think I would let you pilfer and plague another dimension." This one glided down from even further above, having entered through a maintenance duct, landing opposite the android from before. A more professional costume, though the lack of clear armament disturbed her. Whoever this Batmannwas, they didn't seem to be prepared at all. "Surrender now and maybe you'll get off in two or three millennia for good behavior."

The tendrils moved, taking aim at both of them. "I think I will have to decline your offer. But once I've had my revenge on the Kryptonian and put your Gotham into my collection I'll be sure to stop by there. The destruction of the Green Lanterns will be quite easily done with my new weapon."

Another barrage of batarangs, these stopped by Brainiac's shield. Suspended in the air. "I assumed as much. Criminals like you never come quietly."

Before White could quite wrap her mind around the idea that a world conquering AI was being referred to as something as pedestrian as a criminal, Brainiac spoke. "I'm well aware of your tricks Batman. These batarangs would administer a concentrated shock, likely to allow your ally to damage me when my shields go down. A easily seen ploy."

The batarangs did indeed activate into a shower of sparks. Quickly arching not just onto the shield but through it. Brainiac crying out in alarm as he reeled back. Then in even greater pain as the explosive bolts struck his back, shredding the energy firing tentacles off.

"I expected as much Brainiac, which was why I first detonated particulate silver into the air around you."

"Hey, could you stop showing off how clever you are and stick to the plan?" Android Avenger shouted above the chaos, already reloading their weapon.

"Of course. No time for lengthy banter when the fate of the world is at stake," Batman said, rushing forward and landing upper cut that sent the still stumbling tyrant into the air and was accompanied by the sound of thunder. "My Nth metal shock bracers should wear you down in time."

The rising hope that had begun to fill White was quickly dashed as Brainiac caught Batman's hands in his own. "Or it would if I had not further upgraded my body since our last conflict. You should have stayed on your Earth Batman. At the very least you could have spent your last moments with your fellow humans instead of dying here to protect the freedom of so many aimless machines."

"He's human?!"

"That's where you're wrong Brainiac. Human, alien, or even android; freedom is the right of all sapient beings and my responsibility as a hero to protect it. Besides," Batman said as he jumped up and planted his feet on Brainiac's chest, "I already knew the Nth metal wouldn't work."

Whatever else Brainiac might have said was lost in the roar of light and sound that followed. White having to look away less her optic sensors burn out as the intensity grew ever greater.

When it at last dimmed, Brainiac lay there motionless. A half meter hole burned through his chest while the Android Avenger let a smoking (and now slightly melting) energy rifle fall from her grip.

Batman reached down, depressing a button on Brainiac's head and pulling a small triangular chip out before sliding it into a specialized compartment on his utility belt. "And that will hold you until I can get in contact with Hal Jordan. Or Guy Gardner..."

"Did you really believe it would be that easy Batman?"

This time the voice came from all around them, the systems of the station itself speaking in the mad Ai's voice.

"Of course. Even if they've secured the hardcopy of his consciousness data he'd likely have backup on the local server synced up with it."

They've done next to nothing, as the machine began to charge up again, preparing for it's lethal blast to all Machine and Android life.

"Of course not Brainiac. I knew a mind as twisted and evil as yours would always have some last plan for Pyrrhic victory."

"There will be nothing Pyrrhic after I rewrite the minds of your ally and all the others to be copies of my own."

Batman moved quickly, burning through access panel on the colossal contraption of evil and revealing intricate circuitry therein.

"Android Avenger, do you have neodymium coupler?"

"Yes just give me a-shit, I think I burned my hands," she said, running over to Batman and handing him the part he'd asked for. "Wouldn't it be easier to just blow this thing to hell?"

"Unfortunately not. It's already built up enough charge to effect everyone here and would likely go off during the explosion. So," he reached in welding some small device from his utility belt inside along with the part he'd asked for, "I've created an alternative solution."

"Your compassion for this creations has only doomed this entire world and yourself Batman. The signal booster is already charged! I will savor watching your demise at my new army."

It did indeed trigger, a pulse of static and EMP that dropped White to her knees, prepared for the inevitable.

And then nothing.

Actually nothing at all.

"What?! The device worked perfectly? Why do I not have control over anything?"

"I rewired your booster to send most of the signal into a parallel universe with modified transpatial oscillator. The remainder would have still reformated any memory system to a blank slate... except I took a detour and wired your signal through the laser communications hub you were using to send orders down to the surface."

"Did you hear that you jerk? You just wiped the systems for all the drones you'd built!"

"I will not tolerate this! I will not accept this!"

*Reactor malfunction, please evacuate.*

With the clear signs of Brainiac's self-destruct coming, their rescuers wasted no time. Rushing over to the prisons and swiftly blasting an opening in both. White wasn't sure how to feel about the supposed human rescuing the once leaders of the Machine Network, but she didn't have much time to think about it. Her own departure was swift, panicked, and ended with her being held tightly against a modified flight unit that someone had painted red and black as they plummeted through the Earth's atmosphere. The Bunker detonating behind them.

Their arrival on the surface came with a celebration, numerous Androids from both the resistance and YoRHa among their number. And even Machines as well, all welcoming the return of the heroes that they'd known to be attacking Brainiac before he could complete his scheme.

"Are you alright White?"

That brought her attention back to the one closest to her, the so-called Android Avenger. Who...

"Jackass?"

"Yeah, well after that alien jerk showed up I sort of went underground trying to come up with a plan to rescue you. And I-"

"You got the idea for this from those human comic books you used to read, didn't you?"

"Hey! It worked, didn't it?"

After months of captivity, fear, and no small amount of personal pain as Brainiac quite literally picked her brain until he decided she no longer had anything useful to give him, White didn't feel like arguing. If Jackass's unconventional plan had saved her life, all their lives, she would accept that.

Of course acceptance mere acceptance wasn't the reason she decided to show her gratitude in that moment with an embrace that definitely violated some of YoRHa's policies regarding fraternization.

Kissing wasn't specified of course, but certainly violated the spirit of the rules. Not that she'd ever really bothered to enforce those in general.

"Ah-hem."

She turned to see Batman standing there, the Terminals at his side.

"We have decided in light of the possibility of another alien or extra-dimensional aggressor like Brainiac that the current suspension of hostilities should be extended. Perhaps indefinitely."

White nodded, not sure that she trusted herself to say anything coherent in response to that.

"Once you have established global communications with the other Android forces we would like to negotiate this deal in greater detail. Until then we must leave. The damage Brainiac has done to our systems was substantial and will take some time to repair."

And with that they turned and left. Along with the human, Batman, who had already started making his way towards Android woman wearing glasses nearby.

"Wait! Batman," White said, a hundred if not a thousand questions coming to mind. About him, his world, the monster that had attacked them, about humans; before settling on something that she realized would bother her the most if she didn't get an answer. "The signal Brainiac created, you said you sent most of it to a parallel Earth. Doesn't that just mean he'll take over their technology, whatever it might be?"

"You don't have to worry about that. I sent it to Earth-20-2. Caveman Earth. Their most advanced technology are flint tools."

Before she could ask him anything else he, and the Android with glasses that had come to stand beside him, vanished in brief flash of light and the oddest absence of sound.

***

Bat-Files: Earth 4-65, Far Future Android/Machine Civilization Active Heroes; Alias: Android Avenger, Real Name: Jackass (Note, this is not another alias. Names chosen by individual, likely personal meaning.) Powers: No meta-human abilities, but all Androids are stronger than a normal human. She also possess considerable skills in guerrilla warfare, use of and construction of explosives, as well as the advanced sciences native to her reality. Allegiance/Relationships: Army of Humanity, Android Resistance, centered around Japan (though originally from Australia according to personal history). Close relationship with Commander of Android Special Forces YoRHa. Reliability: Acceptable (more so than Booster Gold certainly), consider proposing for probationary membership within JL Temporal/Extra-Dimensional division.

***

( I modeled the general idea after the intro shorts on Brave and the Bold. Where Batman would team up with characters that make rather little sense on the whole. Why is Batman storming the beaches of Normandy with GI Robot, flying around in space with Space Ghost, or saving President Lincoln from assassination at the mechanical hands of a robotic John Wilkes Booth?

He just is.

As for this scenario, I thought the funniest idea would be to have Jackass take the role of native 'hero' for him to team up with. Partially from some earlier yet unfinished humorous stuff I had about her liking old world comic books.)

[theradiointukyshead]

Nostomania (if pairing is needed: bobbifitz)

Mutual Affinities of Organic Beings

Summary: The evolution of a friendship, from a beat-up couch in the Playground to a 7-Eleven in Singapore (or: Nostomania - intense homesickness; an irresistible compulsion to return home).

[excerpt]

Bobbi sneaks the occasion chip from him as she tells him stories.There’s that time she and Hunter hitch-hiked across The Great Plains to shake atail and ended up in Mexico with no passports, that time they accidentallyjoined a cult in exchange for protection, and that time Hunter got into a barfight with an Irish gang so she had to drag him away kicking and screaming.“Jemma would have loved to see that,” she remarks before snatching the lastchip with a grin, and it swells and swells until it fills up the empty airport.

He wants to tell her stories too, Stories-with-a-capital-S,the kinds that don’t include ancient monsters or dead friends or killer robots,but he can’t, so he holds his tongue.

[read more on ao3 or below the cut]

i.

The stranger is on the couch again, her feet propped on thecoffee table. She’s leafing through a trashy magazine, and only notices him whenhe trips over his own feet trying to leave the room. His tea sloshes,uncomfortably hot on his wrinkled shirt. He reaches his bad hand up to smoothit out.

“Can’t get away from me fast enough, huh?”

There’s mirth in her voice, but also a bit of hurt. His earsburn. He motions to the Xbox, bounces on his heels as if to shake loose the nervousness.“I – uh – I was gonna play, but thought it might – uh – disturb you.”

She tosses the magazine aside and looks at him, a softening,unfurling sort of curiosity. “You’ll have to be Player Two,” she says, resolute.Turns on the console, hands him the spare controller. And that’s that.

ii.

The stranger doesn’t come into his life by sneaking up onhim. Rather, she barrels into him, and it’s a blinding flash of sunlight hairand sunlight smile, her presence suffusing like crisp summer. Two in themorning and she drags him, half asleep on a workbench, out of the garage andinto bed. Three in the afternoon and they are on the floor in the common area,hunched over a game of Operation, his left hand tracing the motions until thebuzzer no longer buzzes. The stranger becomes Agent Morse becomes Bobbi, whichbecomes Barbara when he’s in a particularly playful mood. He’s still Fitz toher though, the syllable somehow familiar and easy on the tip of her tongue.

One evening she pokes him with the corner of a folder. “Sayshere you never passed your field assessment. Something about abysmalhand-to-hand combat.”

That is how he finds himself being thrown repeatedly ontothe padded floor.

“Again,” he demands, but the effect is somewhat lacklusterwith his face squished between her forearm and the sweaty training mat.

She backs off, extends a hand toward him. He takes it andclambers to his feet. He holds her gaze. “You were holding back on me. Don’t.”

So she doesn’t. It wouldn’t be the only time she hurts him.

Then comes the real S.H.I.E.L.D. Then comes strange facescrawling all over the base, some new, some old, but they might as well be new.She’s standing in front of him and he can’t see past the betrayal that cloudsthe space between them. A childhood wound begins to ache, somewhere deep in hismarrow. This time, at least, he gets to be the one who walks away.

“We’re not the only ones after Coulson’s toolbox.” She patshis shoulder. “Be careful out there, Fitz.”

For a brief second he melts into her touch, seeking thereprieve from reality it offers. In the end, though, he shrugs her hand off.“Goodbye, Agent Morse.”

iii.

The next time he’s alone with her, she’s in a hospital bed,tangled in a million tubes, bruises red and raging on her skin. His anger suddenlydissipated, he sinks into the seat next to her. They exchange a smile that istwo parts water.

“I lost half a lung,” she begins, already out of breath. “Ilaid there in my own blood, wheezing, and I thought of you.”

The fluorescent light hums quietly. He brushes a thumb acrossthe back of her hand. “We’ll all learn to breathe again eventually.”

“You did. But what if I won’t?”

“Hey,” he says, and thinks of something golden, something light,“I had a little help, didn’t I?”

iv.

She’s on crutches and he’s on his last legs chasing anotherdead end. He catches a red-eye back from Yucatan, arriving at the base justbefore dawn. In the gym, she is doing simple stretches before her morning PTsession. He knows to go to her before she even asks.

His duffle bag hits the floor with a dull thud, and then he’scrying, gracelessly, the kind of crying that’s more half-choked sobs thantears. Every fiber of his being needs Jemma back, but every fiber of his beingis tired and lost and he just wantsto stop existing awhile. The process of getting through time is agony.

Rubber-clad metal thumps against the floor. Bobbi limpstoward him and leans on her crutches, shifting her weight away from her bad leg.She doesn’t say anything; she just stands there beside him while he clutcheshis heart and bones and other things that break.

Minutes – or maybe hours – pass before he looks up to meether eyes.

“I asked Coulson for a transfer,” she tells him. “Startingnext week, I’ll be working in the lab.”

And it sounds so much like moving on that for a moment heselfishly resents her for it. But then she bends down to adjust her knee bracewith a grunt, her crutches awkwardly in the way, and it occurs to him thatthey’re both stuck in the same hole, trying to claw their way out to find theirpurpose again.

It’s easier when they do it together.

He wipes away the last of his tears. “We have some timebefore your PT. Want to go to the lab and help me set up your new work station?”

He hears the clank of metallic crutches as they fall, andbefore he knows it her arms are around him, a hand stroking his back in slow,circular motions. She feels like the view outside his childhood window, hethinks idly, steadying her so that they lean onto each other.

“We’ll find her, okay?” she murmurs against his hair, voice asubdued kind of glow. “We’ll find her.”

v.

February is meant for restless sleepers. Especially thosecloudy evenings, when night falls in dim and icy veils, the sky awash with arolling, tainted black.

He wakes covered in cold sweats. The bedside alarm reads3:58 AM. His nightmares are always blue lately, but the tail end is a fieryred, punctuated by the sizzling sound of a burning corpse. It’s been burningfor months.

The couch in the common area is not empty. He flops downnext to its sole occupant, grateful for her presence but a bit sad too. No onedeserves to be awake alone in the long hours before dawn breaks.

Bobbi pushes a half-finished mug in front of him. “Here,drink this,” she offers. Black tea with too much milk and too much sugar. Justthe way he likes it. He wonders if she made it for him, if she’s been waitingfor him this whole time.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughs, a response to hisquizzical expression. “My knee and the cold don’t get along. I couldn’t sleep.Figured you couldn’t too.”

“How long have you been up?”

She simply shrugs. He nods, a mutual understanding for theintricacy of silences, and hands her back the tea. They pass it back and forthuntil there’s barely anything left, the residue leaving a lonely smudge at thebottom. Then he turns on the Xbox and they content themselves with somemindless FIFA matches.

(All the first-person shooter games have been thrown away.No one ever questions why.)

When they head back to the living quarters, the sun is juststarting to rise. Sleepy light drifts in through the window as they walk pass,slanting on her face in bars of gold. There’s this unbidden fondness for herthat overwhelms him, and he bumps her shoulder to whisper a soft thank you. Sheanswers by nodding toward the sunrise. A clean slate. February is meant forrestless sleepers who are trying to forgive themselves.

“Good morning, Fitz,” she says.

Neither of them knows that it’s the last private moment theyhave together.

vi.

After Russia, he stops doing shots. It’s not a consciouschoice, not really. In Bucharest, he gets a tequila shot and just picks at thelime for a while, the dull ache like a phantom limb that he knows is there butcan’t quite touch. Then he gives up and orders one of those garish florescentcocktails instead.

In the afterglow of it all, tangled between the sheets, helistens as Jemma tells him about an undead monster who looks like Grant Ward whoacts like Will. “It’s awful, Fitz,” she concludes in a hushed tone, hershuddering breath ghosting his skin. “I’m just glad at least Bobbi and Hunterare not caught up in this mess.”

He hums in agreement.

“Do you think they’re doing okay?” she asks, the sheetsslipping off her shoulders as she sits up to meet his gaze. She’s holding her immenseheart in her hands like a little bird, and god,maybe the universe is forever expanding and maybe we’re all dying as we live,but she’s the only one who makes it less devastating.

Overwhelmed, he surges up to kiss her. They’re both smiling,he can feel it against his lips, contentment unfurling in a haze. When theypull apart, he answers in earnest, “I don’t know, Jemma, but I hope they’rehappy too.”

vii.

Eventually, they all carry on living. He does shots againand they re-stock the fridge with Bendeery. It’s not a form of forgetting; theyjust learn to re-shape their lives around the dull ache, which is only noticeablewhen they choose to remember.

This evening, however, he’s acutely aware of the ache in theempty.

After Radcliffe, he and Jemma decide to leave for a while.Just make a run for it, like if they’re fast enough maybe they can leave thehurt behind. In the blur of it all, the headwind stinging their eyes, they findthemselves with an overnight layover in Changi. Except for a bored cashier in a7-Eleven down the walkway, they’re alone in the terminal.

Jemma’s dozing off, a backpack wedged between her head andthe floor, but he can’t sleep, so he decides to wander for a while. It’sstrange, this dreamlike atmosphere of an airport after midnight. He feelssuspended between places, out of sorts. Usually he appreciates the chance toslip into a state of not-being, clear his mind and all that, but now the liminalityjust makes him sad. He likes belonging. He likes it when their team felt likehome.

He goes to 7-Eleven for a bag of chips. Outside, night fallsmore heavily on the tarmac, a vague yet persistent melancholy. He takes his timein the aisles just to keep the cashier company. That way, the loneliness iseasier to bear. They don’t make small talk over the counter, choosing to sharea smile instead, but when he reaches for his wallet, he hears a voice behindhim.

“On me,” it says, languid and syrupy and gold. “I still owe you a shot.”

viii.

It’s Bobbi, of course. He shouldn’t be that surprised. Here,in a country not even visible on the maps, where sharp skyscrapers are builtupon mottled history, people are bound to run into the ones they lost.

They sit by a giant glass panel that overlooks a vacanttaxiway. It has begun to drizzle, and raindrops trap the terminal light withinas they trickle down the glass like liquid diamonds.

Bobbi sneaks the occasion chip from him as she tells him stories.There’s that time she and Hunter hitch-hiked across The Great Plains to shake atail and ended up in Mexico with no passports, that time they accidentallyjoined a cult in exchange for protection, and that time Hunter got into a barfight with an Irish gang so she had to drag him away kicking and screaming.“Jemma would have loved to see that,” she remarks before snatching the lastchip with a grin, and it swells and swells until it fills up the empty airport.

He wants to tell her stories too, Stories-with-a-capital-S,the kinds that don’t include ancient monsters or dead friends or killer robots,but he can’t, so he holds his tongue.

They watch the rain in silence. He glances at her from timeto time, and is struck by how far away she looks against the backdrop of sultrytropical rain, spilling over the foreign skyline that’s stirring at thetail-end of its dream.

After a while, she nudges him gently. “Hey,” she says. “Whatare you thinking?”

You, actually, hethinks. You hogging the Xbox. You makingdreadful tea. You steadying me when my hands are not steady. You dying on ahospital bed and you hobbling around the lab learning to walk again, battle-scarredand heavy, heavy hearted. You believing in me believing in you. When I think ofyou I think of broken and persistent light, and it makes me want to scream tosilence the absence of you between my ribs. It’s not the same without you. Thisteam doesn’t feel like home because the roof caved in after you left. Lay downyour load, take your heart home. Goddamn it, just take it home.

He inhales sharply. “Nothing.” He shrugs. “I was just wonderingif you are happy.”

Past the jut of her shoulder, he catches a glimpse of a few bleary-eyedpassengers shuffling into the terminal to catch an early flight. Down the walkwaytwo duty-free clerks fumble with their keys to unlock the store. Just likethat, the liminal inertia is gone, and slowly but surely everything movesforward again.

“Yeah,” she answers after a beat. “In a way, yeah, I am.”

[101percentindia]

I Looked Past The Barrel Of An Army Gun And Fell In Love With The Soldier

Dating someone from the armed forces is in stark contrast to having grown up in the family of one.

I remember the day. I was sitting in the comfort of my house breathing in the relatively clean air of Delhi courtesy the lush green environs of the Army cantonment. I was chatting with my boyfriend, who like my father is an army man, about his life in Men’s Eden. Posted in the most volatile region of the North East, with barely any connectivity to the outside world, I wondered what his life was like.

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Soldiers letting their hair down

Camouflaging my concern by indulging in cheap jibes at his uncreative, almost robotic professional life, I asked, “Besides labouring to become another 80s Schwarzenegger-Commando-Clone, what are you up to?" Countering my pugnacious humour he retorted “It’s not what you have but its definitely more profound than what you experience in your society.” Intense response. Holding onto this rare moment of getting a peep into his heart, I strive to keep the conversation going. To my amazement, talking about men at the frontlines and his life in foxholes and bunkers didn’t seem like a grueling topic for him. It’s not often that my reticent soldier has emotionally stirring conversations with me.

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Wielding more than guns

Coming from an Army background, I’ve always been surrounded by men one sees on the ‘Join The Army’ billboards. I remember watching a promotional advertisement video two years ago. Feeling a sense of pride, I hit the share button captioning it ‘for friends and families of the valorous ones’. Surrounded with images of strong men and women in olive greens, it had reinforced my belief that they are devoid of familial feelings. As if they are hardwired to fight for the country and protect the nation, and that same hardness had permeated their hearts. I mean, wasn’t `Call of Duty’ their life? `Service before Self’ their motto?

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Father and I with Ruby (warfare dog) in Kashmir (1998)

When I first started dating this well-knit 5 feet 9 inches solider, I expected him to challenge and constantly provoke the 'sherni' in me, as did my dad. Assuming certain traits of a fauji - intellectually and emotionally level headed, I subconsciously presented the 'I can handle this' face to every emotional set-back in our relationship. Whether it was long distance or unavailability. Although there were times when I’d be frustrated with the daily struggles of life and want to vent to my boyfriend, I would consciously tone my angst down. As the saying goes, I try to 'stamp it down and soldier it up', lest I vex him. Because as kids we were taught to hide our minor troubles from father for fear of unnecessarily perturbing him. We were forbidden from whining over the phone. He already had a lot to deal with you see. Despite the fact that father was great at managing our 'crisis’; be it last minute school craft or helping me fix my broken glasses on a school night. Our so-called sorrows were not to reach father's ears when posted in field areas. He was mostly away from home and so I had come to believe he belonged more to the infantry than us. Telephone networks (for most part no connectivity) didn’t help. Mum always got more phone time than us, indicating the severity of the field area. Thus I learnt to tackle my problems with minimum help and grew up to be more and more emotionally unflinching.

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Nursing his lonely heart

For instance, I jetted off to Palestine right at the start of our relationship for over a year, to nurture the adventurer in me. This added extra distance to an already long distance relationship. I happily opted to endure the distance without the thought of ‘feasibility’ entering my mind. I was convinced the soldier would do just fine in coping with absence. Given the nature of his profession, away from friends and family for long durations, I assumed it would be a cakewalk. But I was pleasantly surprised to see how disturbed he was about my departure. He booked flight tickets for us for a trip to Zanzibar way in advance (even before I left for Palestine), so that we have something to look forward to during the months of separation. And contrary to my belief, I was not disallowed from throwing a hissy fit over the phone. I knew then that he’d be a great pillar of strength as I hop from one conflict zone to another. Moreover, unlike most civilian boyfriends who would get hysterical over my plans of shooting documentaries in these dangerous areas, he helped me navigate places better through his experience and general know-how of such regions.

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After a hard day's work

The synergy between the artist and activist in me works wonderfully with the soldier in him. We love being in the field working with people and for the people, exploring places and cultures outside the norm. Perhaps it is this similarity of ideals and the precarious nature of our work that helps us understand and co-operate better with each other in the relationship.

It was actually during my sojourn in the Middle East that I was introduced to this endearing boy all hushed up in his military uniform. Not expressive with words, he would record me songs on his phone somewhere from the wilderness with critters and chirping of birds in the background, embellishing his melodies and emailing them to me with uber cute notes. Sigh! Who would have expected my 'army boyfriend' to turn into a toe-curling corn-ball?

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My army boy and me

On the other hand, being an avid photographer I customarily bombard him with pictures. I even managed to bully him into sending me some of his pictures from his postings. In all honesty, it was mostly an endeavor to be a part of his life. He once sent me a snapshot of him sound asleep on a couch in his combats. Right at that moment I was overcome with debilitating love for the innocent, vulnerable boy in the picture. He was so much more than just a stereotypical grimy masculine thing holding a gun at the front lines. He was just like any other boy I had grown up and bunked classes with in school. The only difference was, instead of ripped jeans and red Converse, he wore a military uniform.

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Hold them close to your heart, that's how everyone should be loved

Later that day as he took me through the bonds he has formed, I tried to grapple with the connections we – latte sipping, man-bun crowd – will never find in our society. Wars / combat zones become a form of connection for them. Men on hoardings who seem so confident, blatantly endorsed as cyborgs, are human after all. No matter how zealous he is about his profession, there are always some places that will suck the life out of him. He doesn’t get to choose the place and duration of stay like me. It doesn’t matter how easy his workdays are or how many friends they’ve got around them. All I can say is they are also overwhelmed with emotional stress. There are times when he breaks down, has little motivation and has to be reminded of our love.  

I have a lot of family and friends in the armed forces, serving our nation; it is their ability to retain their loving and thoughtful 'boy-ness' in war-torn places, in worn-out combats that makes my chest swell with pride. How could I not love a man of war? And how could I resist a man in uniform?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are independent views solely of the author(s) expressed in their private capacity and do not in any way represent or reflect the views of 101India.com.

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By Pratishtha Chhetri Photographs by Pratishtha Chhetri

[optimisticheartbarbarian-blog]

Dating site experiment. Write only if you are serious! Evgenia. Age 25 My new photos and sexy videos here >>>

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