#i might also be watching x-files while a tad high

[volixia669]

I adore the Lone Gunmen as much as every other X-Files nerd, but while watching season 3's Wetwired, I realized that whether it be the 1990s or the 2020s, once you get ANY of them talking about Linux or FOSS (Free Open Source Software) they would be absolutely horrendous in how much they talk it up.

They'd put your average Linux/FOSS evangelist to SHAME with how much they'd be glorifying all of it.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank  (Ch: 7)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE: ok so idk how good this is, kinda just word vomited onto the page, tryna generate some emotion in there but lets see how it goes, thanks for reading peeps. I know I said I wasn't gonna post but middle of the night inspiration stuck so imma keep writing this 

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

CHAPTER: 7 OF ?

TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

The drive to the teams new base of operations was by no means short. While still being on defence land they were nearly three hours away from the main base, located in a flat valley in the hills and surrounded by greenery and training equipment. Ash had been here once before during a cadets course many years ago with her father, but it was vastly different now. The house had changed drastically from what used to be multiple cabins to what was now a single stand alone one story place. However while the accommodation had changed the grounds had stayed the same. There was an assault course set up that flowed into the trees to the south of the house and there was a pool to the west of the house, all in all, it was nothing to complain about. 

The house itself was relatively modern, having been rebuilt within the last few years or so. The entrance was sealed by heavy wooden doors that required a pin in order to access. Upon entry Ash took in the place, it was actually really nice. It was open plan living, the kitchen was directly to the right as you came in the doors, nice wooden benchtops and crisp new appliances. Directly in front of the breakfast bar sat the living room. Three nice couches surrounded a rather large square coffee table, laden with maps. The fireplace that the couches faced was made of a slate grey stone and sat underneath the rather large tv.  To the right of the fireplace was a door that she had been informed led to the only bathroom in the house that held a shower, while to the left of the fireplace was the door to Ash’s room.

Across the small hallway was the Colonels room, which was attached to his office that was on the far end of the house. At the end of the small hallway was an open archway that, from what she could see, led to a gym. Stepping further into the house and left from the kitchen Ash noticed another two sets of doors. One that led to the boys room, containing four single military style pits and separate draws for each of them, while the second door opened up onto the workspace for them all, which had a door in the back right corner that opened up onto Carrillo’s office. All in all, Ash couldn’t find a single fault to the house, okay perhaps one bathroom to share was gonna be a little tough.

She was startled from her thoughts and exploring when Carrillo called out to her while making his way to his office. “There's some food in the fridge and everything is pretty easy to find so make yourself at home, the boys should arrive in around about five weeks. You’ve got the single room closest to the bathroom”  Ash nodded in thanks and watched as he disappeared into the teams workroom, no doubt going to his office to work through the enlistment papers for the rest of the team. Ash didn’t waste much time going to her room, she could eat later when hunger eventually struck her, she was miles too tired from the drive here and sore from moving about so much. Her room was nice. A large double bed sat in the middle of the room encompassed by grey side tables, each sporting a small lamp. In front of the bed sat a tall set of drawers and a small bookcase. Very homely indeed, thankfully, cause god only knows how long the team would be confined to the house doing research and/or planning and training for future raids.

Ash barely gave herself any time to get changed, haphazardly pulling on an oversized shirt and a pair of comfortable gym shorts, before she all but launched herself onto her new bed, grunting in pain when her left side made contact with the bed a little too harshly . She moved onto her back sinking deep into the comfort of the mattress. The bed was like heaven for her after sleeping on either a creaky army pit or the ground for the last twenty some weeks. If this is what she had to look forward to everyday her enthusiasm for work was about to increase ten fold.  The moment her head touched the pillow she was out like a light. Thankful for her own space and a bed big enough to move around on and toss and turn how she used to.

                                                            -------

As much as Carrillo enjoyed the rank he was and the respect that followed his name, the paperwork at this level was a nightmare. Especially due to the complaints Sinclair had lodged against him due to the incident  at the base hospital. Having to describe in detail the events that occurred between that despicable man and the young officer a mere few rooms over made his blood boil, yet again. He was starting to understand the warnings that came with being posted here, apparently work affairs between ranks wasn’t a condemnable act like it was back home in Columbia. An odd world indeed. Still, within his team he would not tolerate any kind of fraternization, hence his decision to cram the boys into one room together and give Greyson her own room, partly for her own privacy but also for his peace of mind.

Pushing the paperwork to the side of his desk, he sighed. That damn soldier might well be the best thing for the team but she sure came with some complications. He’d done extensive research into his team members upon his arrival to the base, most came from non-military backgrounds, a solid high school education or higher, and most but not all had been serving for at least four years and had seen some kind of fire fight. Then there was Greyson. Military background with files upon files that had been redacted and unable to be accessed by anyone in the force, no matter how hard he’d tried. Only the most basic of information could be found about the young soldier; graduated school with honors and received many scholarship proposals but turned them down, participated in many extracurricular activities before and after her education, applied to join the army as both a regular soldier and an enlisted officer as her father had served but yet again, any information surrounding him and his career or rank had been redacted. A Lot of mystery surrounded this soldier, a mystery the Colonel found himself wanting to solve, even if it did go against his own rule.

                                                          ------

When Ash awoke the room was bathed in light from the full moon outside, the sounds of the bush were a welcome homely feeling for her, nature was her comfort. She went to sit but was struck with immense pain. Both her stab wound and head injuries were sending waves of pain throughout her body, making her vision temporarily blurry. The need to puke was high but Ash pushed it down as far as she could. She was hungry, in pain and now cranky, she just hoped her medication would be easy to find in the kitchen. Stumbling like a newborn deer she tried to shake the dizzy feeling from her head, this concussion was a pain in her ass, but the medics did say the symptoms should be gone within the next few weeks, until then Ash would have to put up with feeling sick and dizzy sometimes.  Celebrating when she finally made it to the kitchen without falling on her ass, she then struggled to find the lightswitch, now that was one thing she really should have paid attention too when scouting the house when they arrived.

Having located the switch and turning on the lights she winced, they were just that tad bit too bright for a tired concussed brain. It was when she turned to grab a glass of water to quench her thirst that she noticed a glass already laid out on the bench, with what looked like her meds already measured out beside it and a note beneath the glass. Either she was hallucinating or the stoic Colonel had laid this out for her. Gripping the bench as tight as she could as another wave of nausea overtook her sense she moved closer to the glass, there were her meds. Perfectly placed atop a piece of paper that was covered in a rather elegant script. Each pill had the name and the purpose written next to it and at the bottom of the note were the words “Dinner is in the fridge, eat first. That's an order”  

Ash scoffed a little at the note, of course he’d write that, seemed the man was more by the book than she thought. She was silently thankful for his detailed note explaining her meds, if she had to pick them from the bottle she wouldn’t have known what to take. Opening the fridge and grabbing out the only covered plate she was surprised to find that the meal looked home cooked, Did this man really cook dinner? . It was safe to say she was shocked by the thought but proceeded to microwave her dinner anyway, leaning against the bench to keep herself upright, lest the Colonel come into the kitchen later in the day and find her sprawled out on the floor.

Ash all but devoured the food when it was ready, not waiting for anything to cool down, she was far too hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate, or the last time she ate this good. She never would have guessed that Carrillo was this good at cooking, like sure she’d guess he cooked, but this was some next level stuff. Finishing her meal and cleaning up any mess she’d made was an effort at best, the dizzy feeling was getting worse every time she moved. Quickly she gathered the pills from the bench and downed them in one gulp, chasing them down with water, she hoped at least one of them would help with the horrible dizziness and the nausea that accompanied it. The need to sleep was beginning to overtake her again, something she figured would be common while she was recovering, as much as that might annoy her she’d be thankful for the rest.

Like clockwork she yawned, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to shake the sleep from her body, only to regret the motion a few seconds later. The stitches in her side had pulled impossibly tight at being stretched, her side felt like it was on fire. She reached down to grab her side in pain and pulled her hand away at the warm feeling. Glancing down she noted the rapidly growing red spot seeping into the gauze pad. Of course she had ripped her stitches, she'd been warned by not only the medics but also Carrillo to not move around too much due to her side. Seems she really hadn’t been listening to the warnings. Deciding that she was entirely too tired to deal with the result of her stretching Ash just walked as calmly as she could back to her room and clambered into bed. There was always tomorrow to fix this. And with that, Ash was quick to fall back to sleep, her medication no doubt aiding her plight.

                                                    ------

It was the smell of freshly made coffee that had Ash climbing from her bed and shaking off sleep the next morning. Her medication had definitely kicked in, she could feel no pain from anywhere in her body and the nausea had disappeared finally. To her surprise, Carrillo was standing in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and simple white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, not the Ash was complaining cause the view from her vantage point was amazing. If Ash believed in a higher power she woulda thought that the gods had gifted her with the man standing in the kitchen. No man had the right to look so sinfully delicious in a simple white shirt like that. It was so tight that it clung to his sculpted upper body and left very little to the imagination The thin shirt was stretched thin across his chest, pecs struggling to stay contained. The fabric was stretched tight across his broad bulky shoulders, his biceps straining against the confines of the sleeves that were sure to tear if he were to flex just the right way. He reclined against the bench facing her but was wrapped up with whatever was on the tv. Ash was obvious in her gawking so it was only a matter of time before his eyes fell to her. When they did, his eyes widened comically in shock. Ash wasn’t sure why until his eyes travelled down her frame and landed on her side before a look of realisation overcame his face.  

He took a few quick paces towards her before turning to his right and disappearing into the bathroom with a look of determination on his face. Ash paid him no mind and made her way to the kitchen counter to pour herself a coffee before taking a long pleasant sip. It was a mere minute later that Carrillo was standing in front of her, a med kit laid out on the bench and an expectant look on his face. She looked at him long and hard before realising he was speaking, she gave him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side, before she heard him huff and repeat what he said.

“Greyson, I asked you to take of your shirt”  

It was Ash’s turn to gape at him, the audacity of this man, why would the most by the book man she’d ever met be so unprofessional. “Excuse me?” the disbelief in her words made him roll his eyes, if she wasn’t so confused right now she probably would’ve gone off at him for that.

“I don’t know what activities you got up too last night, but you’ve obviously torn through your stitches, despite the warning from both the medics and myself” He said with a small amount of annoyance while pointing at her side. Now that Ash looked down she realised he was right. Blood had well and truly soaked through her bandage and through the shirt she wore to bed, She was unsure how she didn’t notice this sooner because now that she was seeing it with her own two eyes, it was pretty obvious.

Begrudgingly she pulled the shirt over her head, unsure as to why she had to take it off completely before coming to the conclusion that the shirt probably should be washed. She had a second to drop her shirt before Carrillo was standing a mere few inches in front of her, slowly peeling the bandage from her skin before inspecting her wound, Since when was he a medic?, that thought had her laughing silently, or so she thought. Being this close meant that he heard her laugh so she was met with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression on his face, that surely ended her laughter. She was silent while he worked, wincing occasionally when he prodded a little too hard to see her reaction.

“You’ll be fine if you rest for the next few days, you tore the bottom few stitches. Don’t do anything stupid and the wound will be healed on time” His tone was definitive and the order was clear.

Ash groaned and rolled her eyes, a brave thing to do this close to the man.  He handed her a bandage then turned around to pack away the supplies from the kit. She quickly fixed the bandage and took off toward her room, coffee abandoned on the bench, she was well and truly awake now. New shirt now acquired and covering herself she returned to the main room, Carrillo now vacant from the space and probably in his office working. She snatched up the tv remote and flicked through the channels, settling on an old war movie before curling onto her side to relax.

She woke hours later, the movie long since ended and the daylight now darkness. A blanket had been draped over her in her sleep and her dinner was sitting on the coffee table with a glass of water and her medication beside it. She would forever be grateful for the subtle ways the Colonel looked after her, even if he would never admit to it. She at least knew he cared enough for his team that he’d go out of his way to make her feel comfortable and like she belonged, even if she was new to the force.

                                                                                                                                                                                          -------

Aside from the incident in the kitchen the rest of the week went pretty smooth. They’d developed some semblance of a rhythm. Both woke early, whoever made it to the kitchen first put the pot of coffee on and poured a cup for the both of them, conveniently they preferred their coffee the same way. Black with no milk or sugar. Then they usually sat at the kitchen counter to eat breakfast, cereal for Ash and whatever Carrillo cooked himself for breakfast, Ash really wasn’t one for a big meal in the mornings. After breakfast the Colonel usually disappeared into his office to work and the younger officer would clean up their dishes and then hog the shower for as long as possible, soaking in the opportunity to have a warm shower all to herself without limits. Ash would spend most of the day watching tv or reading one of the many military inspired books that occupied the wall mounted shelves on either side of the tv.

Carrillo would emerge from his office around sixteen hundred hours each day, and proceed to cook dinner for the both of them. Ash had tried once but burnt the steak and been deemed too inexperienced and untrustworthy in the kitchen, something she was silently glad for cause the Colonel was a better cook than she ever could’ve hoped. Again Ash did the clean up, a fair trade off for not cooking, while Carrillo once again disappeared, this time to the gym or for a run around the perimeter of the property along the treeline, a sight Ash loved to enjoy. Only twice  he had stayed to converse or silently watch the news beside her. Then like clockwork they would bid each other goodnight and retire to their rooms.

Everything was going perfect, the routine now something established and easy to work through, even if Ash did complain about being on couch/bed rest until either the medics cleared her or the Colonel deemed her fit enough to begin easing her way into training. It wasn’t until the Wednesday of their second week together that something changed between them, something Ash looked back on with a smile on her face and made Carrillo have conflicted feelings and wish he had just stuck to their schedule they had so easily adapted to around each other.

[leiascully]

Fic:  Between A Rock And A Hard Place (Part Two)

Timeline: Season 10 (replaces My Struggle in the All The Choices We’ve Made ‘verse - Visitor + Resident + etc.) Rating: PG Characters:  Mulder, Scully, Tad O’Malley, Sveta (established MSR) Content warning:  canon-typical body horror (mentions of abduction, forced pregnancy, etc.) A/N:  I’m collecting all the related stories that go with Visitor/Resident under the title “All The Choices We’ve Made”, because it felt right at the time.  This story is an alternate My Struggle that reflects M&S’ growth/change in the ATCWM ‘verse. I’m weaving canon dialogue into the stories in an attempt to keep the reframing plausibly in line with canon.  

Part One  

In the morning, Mulder texts Skinner:  "We're in."  They get a call ten minutes later, while they're lingering over their coffee.  

"You're on speaker," Mulder tells Skinner, putting the phone on the table between them.

"You've been excused from your regular duties today," Skinner says gruffly.  "You will meet Mr. O'Malley on Pennsylvania Avenue at 10 a.m. near the National Gallery of Art.  He'll provide transportation offsite to meet the subject."

They exchange looks over the table.

"Sounds a little cloak and dagger," Mulder says.

"Mr. O'Malley insists on taking precautions," Skinner says.  

"At least he doesn't seem likely to blow up the car while we're in it," Scully murmurs.  

"Don't judge a talk show host by his cover," Mulder murmurs back.

"Agents?" Skinner says, just a touch of tension in his voice.  He is probably being watched.  They are always being watched.  Pressure comes from the top and Skinner, Atlas-like, has borne the brunt of it so that they could dart between the shadows, bringing light to the darkness.

"We'll be there," Mulder says, and ends the call.  He leans back in his chair.  "What's the dress code for subterfuge?"

"I doubt it's black tie," Scully says.  "I'm still wearing a suit."

"Come on, Scully, we're out of the office," he teases.  "You've got an opportunity to break out the leather pants and the badass jacket."

She raises an eyebrow at him.  "I was saving those for your birthday."

"That's better," he says immediately.  

"I thought you'd think so," she tells him.

They're at the appointed place at the appointed time.  Mulder squints through his sunglasses up and down the street.  "Tad O'Malley isn't very prompt."

"I imagine he's the sort of man who likes to make an entrance," Scully says, crossing her arms.

"What do you mean by that?" Mulder teases.  "You thinking of anyone in particular?"

"Of course not," Scully demurs with a smile.  She glances toward the Capitol.  "You know, Mulder, I hate to admit it, but something about this feels good."  She looks at him.  "Most of it feels like we're being taken for a ride, but part of me welcomes this."

"I know what you mean," he says.  

She sighs.  "Something else to discuss in therapy."

"The thrill of the chase is real, Scully," he says.  "You can't blame your brain for enjoying the rush."

"I know," she says.  "I just thought I'd...outgrown it, maybe."

"All the more reason some part of you craves it," he says.  "Recapturing our misspent youth."

"I don't want to be most comfortable with my back against the wall," she says wryly.  "And yet, here we are."

"With your back against the wall, you always know where you stand," he says, and a black limousine pulls up to the curb.  The door opens and Tad O'Malley unfolds himself from the back seat.  He's tall, even taller than he looked on television, and dressed like he's heading to a conference where he's the keynote speaker.  Scully in her suit looks perfectly appropriate next to him.  She shoots Mulder the tiniest smirk.  He straightens his shoulders under his jacket and extends his hand.

"Fox Mulder," O'Malley says warmly, shaking Mulder's hand.

"That's quite a coincidence - that's my name," Mulder says just as warmly.  "What are the odds?"

O'Malley makes a finger gun.  "They told me you were sharp."

Mulder shrugs pleasantly.  "It's a sharp world."

"Indeed it is," O'Malley says.  He shakes Scully's hand.  "Agent Scully."

"You make quite an entrance, Mr. O'Malley," she says.  

"She's shot men with less provocation," Mulder jokes.  

"Funny," O'Malley says.  

"Did they tell you I was funny?" Mulder asks.

"Of course," O'Malley says.  "A regular one-man show.  Join me for a little ride?"

Mulder exchanges sideways looks with Scully underneath their sunglasses.  He expected a show, but the limo is a bit much.  "Right here is fine.  I'm afraid I'm not dressed for a limousine."

"Allow me my small precautions," O'Malley says, gesturing to the open door of the car.  "Low-flying aircraft often use what they call 'dirtboxes' to record conversations that I would prefer stayed private."

Mulder glances at the sky.  There's a kid with a kite and the faraway glint of a commercial jet, but no drones, nothing hovering.  

"Aircraft employed by whom?" Scully asks, arms still crossed.  She leans back slightly on her heels.  Mulder can see the glint of her ring on her left hand where it's tucked under her right arm.  He wondered if she'd wear it.  

"I'm afraid I can only speculate," O'Malley says, as pleasantly as if they'd asked him what the weather was or whether the Cubs would win the World Series.  "Shall we?"

He folds himself back into the car.  Scully shrugs imperceptibly, looking at Mulder, and they follow O'Malley in, taking off their sunglasses.   The interior of the car is dark, the windows tinted probably beyond the legal limit.  The partition is up between the driver and the passenger compartment, but even if it's two against three, Mulder likes those odds.  He and Scully are strapped and they're scrappy.  They've handled worse than O'Malley.

The limo is suitably appointed, luxurious almost to the point of parody.  O'Malley reaches into a high hat full of ice and pulls out of a bottle of champagne, offering it to them like a maitre d'.    

"None for me, thanks," Mulder says.  "Scully?"

She shakes her head.  "Mr. O'Malley, your precautions would seem to imply that you have enemies."

"Not of my own choosing, Dana," O'Malley says, his teeth bright as he smiles.  He pops the cork and pours himself a glass of champagne.  "Truth tellers will always face opposition, as I'm sure you know.

She inclines her head in what might be a nod.  Mulder turns toward the window.  The old habits come back fast; he can sense her next to him, poised to act if necessary.  The city slides by outside and he presses the button to roll down the window.  Nothing happens.  

"Your windows are broken," he says.  "That's a shame.  It's a little stuffy in here."

"Oh, those don't roll down by design," O'Malley says, that salesman's grin still wide.  "I had the vehicle bulletproofed."

"Sure," Mulder says.   "All those gun-toting liberals in the Whole Foods parking lot.  What if there's a run on quinoa?"

"How can we help you, Mr. O'Malley?" Scully interrupts.

"I know the briefing you received was brief," O'Malley says, turning the charm on her again.  "I also know you've been out of the game a long time.  But I'm not some Johnny-come-lately to UFO-related phenomena.  I'm a true believer like yourselves."

Scully ducks her head.  "I wouldn't categorize myself as a true believer."

"Nor would I," Mulder says.  "I want to believe, but actual concrete proof has been strangely hard to come by.  Not that that matters much these days.  Anyone can claim to be an expert on the internet."

"Sometimes they even give you your own show," O'Malley says, still genial.  Mulder can feel the prickle of Scully's disapproval, but O'Malley rubs him the wrong way.  "I guarantee if you still ran the X-Files, you'd have a platform bigger than you can imagine."

"Perhaps," Scully says.  "But for better or for worse, Mr. O'Malley, those days are behind us.  We're off the paranormal beat, so to speak."

"I could give that all back to you," O'Malley says, leaning forward.  He's only looking at Scully now.  She gazes back, that enigmatic mask in place.    

"Mr. O'Malley, how does a man with your conservative credentials come to consider himself a true believer in UFOs and 9/11 false flag conspiracies?"

O'Malley turns away from Scully, but Mulder can tell he doesn't have the man's full attention.  "I take it you think my message is disingenuous?"

"Conspiracy sells," Mulder says.  "It didn't in the 90s, but it's a hot property now.  It pays for bulletproof limousines, among other things."

O'Malley's smile gets sharper.  "You think I do it for the ratings?"  

Mulder shrugs.  "I think you're The O'Reilly Factor with a shopworn little gimmick.  I think you're 4chan with a cable contract."

O'Malley snorts.  "What Bill O'Reilly knows about the truth could fill an eyedropper."

"At least we agree on that," Mulder says pleasantly.  

"Try me," O'Malley says.

Mulder taps one finger to his lip.  "The Kelly Cahill incident."

"Kelly Cahill and her husband were driving home in Victoria, Australia when a craft appeared overhead.  The Cahills lost an hour of time and Kelly was hospitalized with severe stomach pain after discovering a triangle-shaped mark near her navel," O'Malley recites.  "As I said, my interest is real.  What I need is your expertise."

"Our expertise for what?" Scully asks.

"I know what you've been through," O'Malley says.  "Both of you."

"With all due respect, Mr. O'Malley," Scully says deliberately, "I doubt that's true."

"You're right," he says.  "My apologies.  I've heard the rumors.  I've read the reports.  I used to subscribe to The Lone Gunmen.  Between your histories and your experience in law enforcement, you have the skills and knowledge I need."

"And why should we put those skills at your disposal?" Scully asks, ignoring the rest.  

O'Malley leans forward, the flute of champagne dangling from his fingers.  "I'm rattling some pretty big cages in the intelligence community, but I'm prepared to go all in.  I'm prepared to blow open maybe the most evil conspiracy the world has ever known."

"That's quite an assertion, given the history of the world," Scully returns cooly.  "What's stopping you from exposing this conspiracy?  I assume your following would support you."

"If I'm putting my ass out there, I need to know I've got backing I can depend on," O'Malley tells her.  "My viewers are with me, but like I said, these are big cages, and the players in them don't care about ratings.  They know how to make people disappear."

"So does David Blaine," Mulder murmurs.

O'Malley ignores him, still looking at Scully.  "I've got something to show you...and someone."

The limousine glides out of the city as they sit in silence.  O'Malley sips at his champagne and checks his phone.  Mulder and Scully glance at each other.  Mulder shrugs and takes out his own phone, scrolling through Twitter and checking his usual news sites.  Scully looks out the window.  After nearly four hours of turning onto increasingly narrow roads, the limo makes one last right onto a gravel path that reminds Mulder of the driveway of the house they lived in when they first moved back, before the case with the priest and the organ trafficking.  They might as well be going nowhere.  Google Maps tells him they're in or near Low Moor, although there's not any signal.  It's as good as he's going to get.  

The limo pulls to a stop outside a small dingy house and Mulder hears the locks release.  He opens the door and steps out, stretching.  He offers Scully a hand out.  She accepts it, surprising him, and slips her sunglasses back on.  

"Aliens couldn't find this place," she says, as if aliens didn't find Skyland Mountain.  "How did you, Mr. O'Malley?"

O'Malley smirks.  "A man in my position finds himself contacted by interesting strangers."

"I imagine that's true," Mulder murmurs, lurking at Scully's shoulder, in his best for-your-ears-only voice.  O'Malley can probably hear, but even in broad daylight, he's always felt like he and Scully have a back channel, code talkers communicating sub rosa.  They walk toward the house.  Mulder tries not to saunter like he's in a Western, strolling up to the local bar.  The door of the house swings open and he automatically reaches for his gun and stops himself.  He sees Scully flinch the same way.

"Everyone," O'Malley says in a self-important voice, "meet Sveta."

Sveta lingers just outside the doorway.  She is young and lovely, vulnerable-looking, her skin dark brown and her black hair falling around her face.  She looks at them as if she is not quite sure whether to bolt.  That's the usual attitude of the people they interview.  Mulder relaxes slightly.  She looks exactly like the person O'Malley might have chosen to be a smokescreen for his flimflam, but she's nervous too.  Somehow, that's a comfort.

"Sveta, this is Dana Scully and Fox Mulder," O'Malley says.  Everyone shakes hands.  Sveta's only tremble a little.  

"Hello," Sveta says formally.  Her voice doesn't shake.  She's got a Midwestern standard accent.  Not a lot of clues there.  "Welcome to my home."

"Sveta suggested I call you," O'Malley tells them, standing next to her.

"You probably don't recognize me," Sveta says, looking at Mulder.  "You interviewed me and my family when I was just a little girl.  Right after my first abduction."

"I'm sorry," Mulder says.  "I don't remember."

"We lost the majority of our files in a fire a number of years ago," Scully says.  "Yours might have been among them."

"It's all right," Sveta says.  "I'm sure you've been through a lot since then.  Please, come in."

Scully looks at Mulder and follows Sveta in.  Mulder follows her, his hand hovering near the small of her back.  O'Malley brings up the rear, closing the door.  Sveta pulls up her shirt.  There are six circular scars around her navel.  Scully leans forward.  

"May I?" she asks.

"Of course," Sveta says, and Scully peers closely at the marks.  "These are from over twenty years.  I've lost count of how many times I've been abducted."

"The scoop-mark scars are classic," O'Malley says.  "As I'm sure you know.  And then there are the memories implanted over actual memories to make the abductees forget."

"We call them screen memories," Sveta says.

"I'm familiar with the phenomenon," Scully says dryly.  She straightens up slowly.  

"Things come back to me sometimes," Sveta tells her, letting her shirt fall back over her stomach.  

"What kind of things?" Scully asks.  Mulder recognizes the gentleness in her voice.  It's the one she always saved for the times they had to interrogate children.  

"Tests," Sveta says in a small voice.  "Harvesting."  She gestures toward her pelvis.

"Harvesting your ova?" Scully asks.  

Sveta looks at O'Malley.  He nods.  "Yes," she says.  "They made me pregnant.  But they took the babies before they were born.  They tried to take the memories, but I remember.  I remember the lights.  I remember the way my body changed.  They do everything through here."  She points at the scars.  

"Tell them about your DNA, Sveta," O'Malley says in a hypnotic voice.

"I have alien DNA," Sveta says.  "For sure.  They take the babies out through here.  They put the DNA in."

Scully glances at Mulder.  "Have you had a doctor confirm that?"

"No," Sveta says.  "I couldn't be sure that any doctor I visited wasn't one of Them."  Mulder can hear the capital letter when she says it.  Them.  He used to talk the same way.  

"Is that something you could test, Scully?" he asks.

Scully stares at him.  He can sense her reticence.  There is something childlike about Sveta, for all that she's an adult.  One way or another, O'Malley is manipulating her.  They have sacrificed enough children to this quest.  He thinks back to the clones of his sister on the farm with the bees, the red-headed scientists in the facility where Scully's ova were stored.  Emily.  William.  Uncounted others.  

At last, Scully nods.  "I'll examine you myself, Sveta," she says.  "If that's all right."

"Thank you," Sveta says fervently, her hands clasped.  Mulder knows the light in her eyes.  Sveta, at least, is a true believer.  

[ouremptysinks-blog]

Star In The Dark

Chapter 1

Characters: Steve Rogers X OC (Hailey Beaumont), OC’S Mom, The Avengers, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Matt Murdock, A CUTE AF EMT/PARAMEDIC ( I don’t know who else for rn sooo?) Summary: A young woman with too many talents gets recruited to be a part of the Avengers. (yep that's it. I’m not spilling anything else.) Warnings: Lots of swearing, some angst, self-depreciation, eating disorders, depression, anxiety, anxiety attacks, panic attacks,  okay maybe a lot of angst, daddy issues(not the sexual kind yall!) (please lemme know if I missed something!)

Words: 2376

A/N: So I’m crying, this is my first fic and I'm so scared yallssss please reblog and comment and PLEASE JUST REEEADDD AND AHHHHHH! DM ME WITH FEEDBACK OR JUST URGHFHJH FEEDBACK PLEASE JELLIES!! Also please don’t bother requesting smut, I won’t write it

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“Honey, could you please go into my office and grab the white file in the second drawer in my desk? I need it in an hour so please could you make your way here now? I’ll give you the money you need for the tech thing you want so bad! But please hurry!” my mother hung up.

The woman was amazing at what she did but she was so forgetful, I was amazed at how she hadn't lost her position even after 25 years. My mom worked for S.H.E.I.L.D., she was high up in the ranks. That was all I knew, well actually that’s all they think I know. You see, I’m a pretty techy gal. I am so sorry, did I seriously just say ‘gal’? Okay yeah so I am very into the tech-verse and yeah I’m very aware that my mom works very closely with Coulson and whatnot but you don’t know that either okay! Now shush I have to go! Before you ask, yes I do know where they are because as her immediate and only family. I was to come to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters if anything were to ever go wrong. If you asked me, S.H.E.I.L.D. was the last place we should be at. With all the rogue agents and undercover Hydras. Shit. YOU DON'T KNOW THAT EITHER OKAY! While I was spilling dirt that only I know, you didn't notice me start the car, did you? I hated going to S.H.E.I.L.D. so much. It was such a headache to get there. The idiots made it so you had to take about 120 backroads to get to the damn place. It was so stupid.

I quickly glanced at the duffel bag behind me. I wonder if I’d be allowed to use the training room? I can’t afford to miss today's workout, one workout missed meant a whole fight lost. Not that I was getting into any fights…Okay fine, I box! Erm... and it might be illegal… No one needs to know that either by the way! Snitches get stitches! Don't you dare forget! If I ever hear that you’ve let anything slip, I’m also great with weapons. That was indeed a threat, take it to heart.

I pulled up into the reserved parking space under my name. Grabbing my duffel and the white file with the big red ‘Confidential’ stamped on it, I swiped my ID into the holder. I was welcomed with a blast of air-conditioned air. They have these set to 16 degrees, and there was an air conditioner every 4 metres. The place was probably colder than Antarctica. Smiling at the receptionist I waved the file at her and she gave me a grimace.

“Lola left the files again?” she asked in a not surprised manner.

“Yep, you know how mom is.”

“Go on up sweetheart. If anyone asks, tell ‘em Susan sent you up. They can come and fight me.”

I threw my head back a little and laughed. Trying to contain my outburst, I grinned at Susan.

“I love you, Sue! I’ll bring you down a coffee, on my way back.”

“Oh honey, you don't have to! Oh, and I didn't tell you this but the training room is free from 4 till 8, so if you wanna punch some stuff, knock yourself out.” Susan whispered.

I pulled her into a small hug and then ran over to the elevators. I punched in the code and pressed on the floor number. The doors were just about to close when a not so subtle Patriotic soldier managed to place one of his feet in between the doors. He had been awake for a few months now. 3 to be exact, not that I’ve been digging or anything. I was a tad bit uncomfortable considering I looked like shit today. I looked terrible on a daily basis considering I was a fat fuck but today I was actually shit. He had taken his stance behind me, which made me x999 times more uncomfortable than I had in the beginning. I could also feel him staring which made my nerves increase even more. I was hoping that the ride down would stay quiet but unfortunately, to my dismay, he spoke.

“Are you new here?” he asked, voice smoother than silk. Yikes.

“I think I should be the one asking you, don’t you think?”

He seemed a little shocked that I didn’t give him a straight up answer. However, he hummed in agreement.

“I guess you should, I was here just yesterday and I didn’t run into you, that’s why I asked.” he smiled, not a bit of bitchiness in his voice.

“I was off yesterday.” I lied.

As the elevator doors opened, Captain Not So Frozen stepped out and head to the direction opposite of where I needed to be. PRAISE THE LORRRDDD! Before he opened the door, he spun around and yelled out, “Hey! I guess I’ll see you around Miss?”

I contemplated giving him a fake last name but decided against it.

“Beaumont”

Giving me a small smile, he said, “I’ll see you around Miss Beaumont”

Besides, it’d be funnier if he ran into my mom, considering she was Miss Beaumont. Ahh, the laughs. I checked my watch, ‘3:47’.

“Perfect”

I knocked on the door to my mom’s office, no one came to the door so I let myself in. I left the file between the keyboard and the screen of her closed laptop and wrote her a quick note on a post-it, letting her know where I’d be.

Lazily stepping into the elevator again I punched in another code and the button for the floor. This time, the melted man didn't stop the closing doors and I was able to get to the gym peacefully.

I pulled out my laptop from my duffel and started cracking. My ‘abilities’ weren't known to S.H.E.I.L.D., mom knew I could fight and she knew I was great with tech. What I did with those things, she didn’t know, and to be frank she didn’t need to either. I was done setting up the codes, all I needed was a clear frame. So when I stepped out and opened the doors to the gym, I was relieved to see it was indeed empty.

‘4:03’ my watch read. I stepped back outside and set everything else up. I didn’t need these buffoons watching me, and enter.

“That gave me such a headache, this stupid place.”

Manoeuvering my way to the changing room I threw my bag into one of the lockers and then went straight for the treadmill. I had four hours so I could do a lot. I would run/jog for half an hour and then, squats, lunges, one legged squats, box jumps, hip raises, deadlifts, straight leg deadlifts, good mornings, step ups, overhead press, bench press, incline dumbbell press, push ups, dips, chin ups, pull ups, bodyweight rows, dumbbell rows, planks, side planks, exercise ball crunches, mountain climbers, jumping knee tucks, hanging leg raises. Then I’d work on my hapkido if I finished everything nicely. Or I could go crash at my loft. I realised if I went back home, I wouldn't do any hapkido so I decided I’d just cut some stuff out and get to the martial art.

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I finished up the leg raises and checked the time once more.

‘6:45’

That gave me a solid 5-minute break and a 10-minute shower.

The shower ended quicker than I had planned, eager to practice hapkido again. I changed into something more comfortable. Pulling out a mat I started my usual routine. But I wanted to do something a bit different today. I grabbed one of the knives. I was doing my thing and all when a stupid man decided to grab my attention. I was taken aback and grabbed the blade too hard. Blood dripping from my torn palm, Stark stares at me shocked.

“Shit, I am so sorry!” he tried to clean up my hand using the handkerchief from his pocket.

I took a step back, glaring fiercely at the idiotic billionaire.

“I can fix it myself, fuck off Stark.”

“Potty mouth, plus I apologized, didn't I?”

“Well if you weren't so fucking idiotic and ignorant, we wouldn't really be in this situation now would we?”

“Let’s get you to the infirmary.” he tugged on my arm slightly.

Pushing his money filthy hands off, I said, “I vividly remember telling you to fuck off. No?”

He merely smirked at me.

“Before I ‘fuck off’, I wanted to ask you something.”

Not being bothered to reply to the egotistical fuck, I stayed silent.

“How’d you hack into S.H.E.I.L.D.’S systems?”

Awh fuck, this is great.

“Hails, wanna tell me how?”

“Don't you dare call me that you fucking asshat! You don't deserve it.”

Grabbing all of my things I stormed out of the anxiety-filled room to be met with another fucker I hate.

“Nicholas.”

“Ah Miss Claire, you’re just the person I wanted to see.”

“Ah, Joe you flatter me, Starkies in the gym if you wanna see the fucker.”

“I assure you, you're the one I was looking for Hailey.”

Hiding my bitchy feels, I follow Joseph into the elevator.

“So what’s up Joe-man?”

“Not here.”

If Fury thought it’d be better to talk about whatever he wanted to talk about specifically in his office, it meant that this thing was big. And very confidential. If I said that it didn’t scare me, I’d be 100% lying. It scared the shit outta me. Fury and I, well we go way back. He’s known me since I was in the womb, and we’ve been super chill. So fuck yeah I was stressed.

I followed the fucker into his office and took a seat. I was not about to risk falling on my fat ass.

“Miss Beaumont-”

“Zhang.” I reminded the ignorant man.

“Miss Zhang, I know you’re aware that I know about your skills.”

“And what? Thought it was a mutual agreement where I don’t fuck your organization over and we keep my ‘skills’ a fucking secret.”

“It was until the Avengers.I’d brief you on the whole thing, but something tells me you already know way too much.”

I kept my eyes glued to him, not looking away for even a second. I was proud of my abilities and plus, he never told me to keep out of anything.

“Listen, you already have a bunch of power puffs and musketeers. What do you need me for? Plus, isn’t there some rule that you can’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D. unless you’re twenty-five plus? HA BITCH! I’m still 22!” Crossing my legs, I smirked at him.

“That rule is bullshit and I know you know it and fine. I’ll just tell your mom about your pastime activities.”

“You wouldn't dare!” I glared at him.

“I would if it meant you’d join the Avengers.”

“Cause pointing you to the Skull-topuses arent enough? Now I have to join a stupid marching band?”

“Hailey.”

That shut me up. But before he could say anything else I yelled,  “FINE! Fuck you, I’ll do it. Not like you’ve actually given me a choice.”

“Come to the meeting room in an hour”

“No”

“Agent Zhang”

“I’m not an agent bitch.”

Mentally giving myself a once over I tell him, “Tomorrow. You want me to be a part of this pep squad? Then I want the meeting tomorrow at 7.”

“Sevens a bit-”

“8:45 or else I'm out.”

Rolling his eyes he huffed out a ‘fine’.

Standing up, I grabbed my bag and pushed through the double doors. The elevator ride pissed me off. I threw myself out of the elevator when I ran into a chiselled figure and fell back. I braced for impact considering I couldn't do a double flip to save myself because I wasn't supposed to know how. But the impact never came. Instead, I felt strong arms hold up my weight. Staring into steely blue eyes I realise who’s holding me. I push him off and let myself fall to the ground. Hanging my head in shame, I stutter a sorry.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. I just need some air.”

I ignore his gaze, I push past the man and rushed out of the building. I ran to my car and turned on the engine. I couldn't breathe, fuck. I reversed and then pulled out onto the highway. I kept driving until I realised my eyes were getting clouded and I was about to throw up. I stopped on the side as soon as I exit the highway. My chest hurts, I can’t breathe. I threw myself out of the car and collapsed.

I woke up to red and blue accompanied with blaring sirens.

“Miss are you alright?”

This was embarrassing… I passed out on the road and someone had called 911. Fucking shit.

“I’m fine,” I nodded curtly.

“Alright, we’re just going to do a couple tests and if everything’s fine we’ll let you go. Is that okay with you?”

I smiled at him weakly, nodding my head.

“Are you able to stand?” she asked very politely.

As I tried to stand, I almost fell back but the woman had caught your arm before you did. You could feel your throat close up again. She sensed something was wrong and quickly let go, but only after she made sure you were steady.

After all the tests, I walked over to my car and as I put on my seatbelt, the paramedic who tended to me knocked on my window.

“Hey, if you ever want to speak to anyone about anything, here’s my number.”

“Oh no that’s- it’s- I’m fine. It’s okay!” I tried being peppy.

It clearly didn’t work as her brows furrowed deeper. Sighing I took her card and mumbled a thank you. She gave me a bright smile as I drove away from the area. I was definitely not calling her, but for some reason, I just shoved the cared into the glove compartment instead of throwing it out. 

[sherlockxreader]

A Time Of Change - Chapter Two - New Home

Title: A Time Of Change Chapter Two: New Home Summary: Ava Bradford. Behavioral Analyst of the Miami Police Department. Or former Analyst after the events of the past force her to journey to England and take up a job away from the family she had created. Here, she struggles to keep to herself and her life quickly takes over as she readies for her future on Baker Street. Author: Alexa @alex-awesome1023 Words: 3,352 Characters/Relationships: OC x Sherlock Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Past Physical Abuse, Nightmares Author’s Notes: So I’m a very visual person when it comes to story telling, my fics will have gifs and pictures to best represent and hopefully help you guys see what i’m trying to get across. The chapters might be a tad too long but hopefully they go back to normal length but there will be some longer than others. I don't have a designated schedule for updates yet but I'm thinking every Friday or Sunday. If you have any question or comments please feel free to share. None of the pictures are mine, the credit goes to the wonderful people of google and Tumblr P.S. I’m going to post my work on @sherlockxreader from now on. -Alexa

Original Character Ava Bradford is inspired by Zoey Deutch. Enjoy!❤

After about five minutes filled with non-stop talk of the cab driver's life story about his kids in Kingston, and how he never sees them because of the wife, you try to pass the time by deducing him a little. You look at him from behind, noticing the traces of shaving cream behind his left ear. He lives alone so there’s no one to point it out to him. You look to the front of the cab and notice the photograph attached to the dashboard. Family photo of children, a young boy and girl, the boy’s face looks like him. It’s obvious there was a third person to the left of the photograph but it had been cut along that side to remove most of the woman’s image. Divorced, a nasty one telling by the frame; it’s new but the photo is old. He thinks of his children but doesn't get to see them. A father cast away. She took the kids, but he still loves them. How dull. His clothes are also old but they’ve recently been laundered. Everything he's wearing is at least, what ... three years old? Keeping up appearances but not planning ahead. Why? You make eye contact with the man and quickly smile. He returns with a thin grin but his eyes were void of anything, completely dead. As if you’re mouth had a mind of it own, it speaks your voice, prodding upon the cabby’s now exposed nerves.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your kids?” You asked, focusing totally on him and his body language.

“Oh um…. It’s been about three or four years.” He said, his head turned slightly to the left so he could hear. Noting the twitch in his shoulder at your question as well as the clearing of his throat, you could immediately tell that this was a difficult topic for the man. It’s still hurts. Interesting. But there’s more, what is it? He’s a father that has been cast away 4 years ago. He still loves his family but doesn’t get to see them. His clothes are old yet preserved to keep up with appearances. What is i... Oh. Oh that… that is interesting. Very interesting. You couldn’t help but flash a small grin but hiding it before he could see.

“Is that around the same time they told you that you were sick?” It was more of a statement then a question. You locked eyes with him and you see his eyes change.Your phone sounding an alert that you have an email breaks the stares you both share. Quickly letting your train of thought go back to its normal pace, you turn your attention to your phone. You saw that your new boss, the Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard, had emailed you the files of the case they were currently dealing with. He was in need of your expertise.

Looking through the email, you saw that there were in fact three different files and you also noticed that the deaths of those people all appeared as suicides. You wondered why Scotland Yard would investigate suicides of all things but due to the media causing panic for the people, that was probably the reason. People had a funny little way of making havoc out of a grain of sand. Taking out your little black book for notes, you read through the files that were displayed on your phone screen, writing the important details into the book.

The first victim was Sir Jeffrey Patterson, a common business man, who was found at a high-story office building on an empty floor on October 12th in the evening. The cause of death was asphyxiation. You watched the press conference that was held the morning after where the wife explained how he was a happy guy who wouldn’t do this and about how this came suddenly - blah blah blah - however, you did notice the women standing on the far left of the screen, trying to hide tears. You smiled at the image. “The mistress. He was cheating.” This information wasn’t helpful at all though, judging from the behavior of the wife and the mistress, they didn't murder him.

The second victim was only 18 years old. His name was James Phillimore and he was last seen by the friend he was walking with the night of his death. He was found in a sports centre on November 29th. The cause of death, asphyxiation.

The third victim was Beth Davenport, last seen at a public venue and found on a building site in Greater London on January 28th. Death also by asphyxiation. According to the police, there is no connection between the deaths, however, there were sources that said otherwise, and you would have to agree.They all completely disappeared and reappeared, dead, hours later, all dying in what seemed to be in the same manner. But how did they all end up where they did and what was killing them?

You read through the case files once more, taking mental and written notes throughout the articles. You couldn’t think of anything practical that would help the case, well you did but you could do nothing about it while sitting in a cab. Trying not to get frustrated a yourself you locked your phone and took in the sights passing by while you could.

While looking at the streets of London, you thought of Will and how you and him would stay up late and talk about the future, where you’d end up together. You look down to the ring on you right ring finger, twisting it around out of habit. God how you wished he was here with you, congratulating you on going to London and getting the job you always wanted. He was always there for you when you needed him. Feeling a smile creep on your face you sighed, wishing you could go back to those days when everything was carefree and peaceful. When he was still here.

The feeling of the taxi stopping is what pulled you back to the present. Getting out of the cab, you looked at the building, seeing your new home… 220B. You helped the cabbie get your luggage out the back. “Thank you so much for your time and I hope you get to see your children soon. You should try talking to them and your ex wife and tell them the situation you’re in. Try to spend some time with your family, so you can cherish and treasure the moments while you can.” You said, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“T-Thank you miss, I’ll think about what ya said.” He muttered out, looking at you like you had three heads and told him to suck an egg.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, wondering if you got the fare wrong or said something you shouldn’t have said.

With a half grin, chuckling to himself, he replied. “Oh no miss. Nothin at all. I’ll make sure use my time wisely. You ‘ave a nice afternoon.”

You waved good-bye to the driver and bid him a good day, a genuine smile upon your face as he drove off. Looking up at the building of your new home, you adjust the strap on your shoulder and knocked on the door. Not long after, a woman in her late seventies answered the door.

Taking a quick glance you saw that she wore a lacy, high collared, black blouse, paired with a sweater and a purple shawl thrown over her shoulders. She was dripping with elegance. No wedding band. Does have engagement ring that's at least 50 years old though. The design and wear of the ring itself probably means that she was engaged but never married. Maybe she eloped when she was younger? She reminds me of Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter. Bringing yourself out of your deductions, you greeted her with a smile and introduce yourself.

“Hi, I’m Ava who called about the flat. I’m so sorry I didn't call before arriving, it just slipped my mind as I was reading my case files for work.” You took your bottom lip in between your chattering teeth in anticipation, hoping that you hadn’t made a bad first impression.

With a kind and warming smile she ushered you in out of the cold. “Oh that’s quite alright dear, please do come in. I'll make you a nice hot cuppa.”

Dragging your half frozen arse and heavy luggage into the foyer, you took a moment to look at the old, dingy wallpaper and the Victorian style of the whole ground floor, relishing in the dark hardwood floors and staircase leading up to the upstairs flat. Mrs.Turner closed the door and then lead you up the stairs to your new awaiting living quarters. Letting her lead the way, you both walked up the tiny staircase and you couldn't help but bathe in the Victorian setting of the stairway. It was old but also charming and homely. It was the change of scenery you needed. You watched as Mrs. Turner got out a key from the pocket of her sweater and unlocked the old, red, wooden door, the paint peeling in the corners. What a bold color of a door. You huffed out a laugh to yourself and followed her in.

You stepped into the room after her and looked around the flat. It was nothing special, having two windows that looked out into the streets of London. You noticed a sandwich shop across the street, next to a jet black door with a crooked knocker. How convenient but who puts their knocker on crooked? You looked over at the door next to the shop, squinting your eyes to try to make out the numbers above the infernal knocker. You could just barely make out the numbers.

“2...2...1B. So that’s where my aunt lives.” You say loud enough for Mrs.Turner to hear from the kitchen.

“Oh yes, and the very handsome and clever Sherlock Holmes.” You could practically hear the smile on her face as the words left her lips.

“Oh?” You quirked the corner of your mouth, looking over your shoulder at the older woman.

“You should see him dear! Very serious and so kind I’ve heard, at least from Martha.” You smiled at the thought of the two old friends gossiping about the man in the flat as you paced around your new apartment.

“It seems this Sherlock fellow is quite popular around here.” You said crossing your arms and leaning against the opening of the kitchen, watching Mrs. Turner finish preparing the cups of tea and a few cooki- biscuits. Biscuits. If I’m going to be invisible here I have to start using their language.

“I’m not surprised that you’ve heard of him so fast but yes, you could call him popular with the people he’s helped.” She said with a content smile.

“Helped?” Your eyebrow rose in question. “What do you mean helped?”

“He has helped many people around here. He is especially good with legal problems, he once helped your aunt with her husband’s murder charge in Florida two years ago.” She was turned towards you gesturing you to sit at the two person dining table. Florida two years ago? I wonder what part?

“He helped Mrs. Hudson’s husband out of a murder charge?”

“Oh no dear, he ensured it.” Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth gaped like that of a fish.

“So… so what, is he like a lawyer or a cop of something?” You asked before sitting at the table, sighing at being able to take the weight off your travel tired feet. Mrs. Turner had set the biscuits on a dainty little plate in reach of your hands and the lemon scented shortbread filled you with contentment as you took a bite from one of the sugary snacks. As you chewed, you couldn’t help but to ponder about the ever increasing mystery around Sherlock.

“Oh goodness no, he’s more of a Private Detective. He helps others with problems that need to be taken care of discreetly.” Mrs.Turner took the seat in front of you and sipped at the hot cuppa. So this Sherlock Holmes solves crimes and helps the locals with legal problems that need to taken care of discreetly... So a specialist. Interesting. “But he can be quite rude when he’s dealing with clients or people in general.” She added stopping your train of thought. Your brows furrowed at the comment.

“Well to put it simply, he’s a complete ass.” She said bluntly, looking over her cup before taking another sip. You couldn’t help go wide eyed at the women and nearly fall of your chair because of the sudden burst of laughter that came from your lungs. After all, you’ve never heard an older lady use such language, it took you by surprise. She giggled along beside you and when you had both calmed, she looked past you whimsically, a petite smile gracing her features. “But I will tell you dear, he’s a bit of a lady killer. With those cheekbones of his and his eyes… oh they’re going to be the death of me.” Your lips curled slowly, the gleam in your eyes akin to that of the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Is that a crush I hear in that voice of yours? Are you fond of this man, Mrs.Turner?” You asked with a sly grin. She seemed to come back from whatever daydream she was having, a rouge blush tainting her cheeks as she settled the teacup back onto the table. Your smirk only grew at this revelation and you just couldn’t believe it.

“Oh don’t give me that look, you will see what I’m talking about when you meet him.” She retorted with a light shake of her head.

“Well, I guess I’m gonna have to be the judge of that.” You said before sipping the now lukewarm beverage, feeling the cold outside wash away with the tea.

Relishing in the warmth of the moment, you relax further into the chair. You talked to Mrs.Turner for a good while about different things, like the rules of the flat and the rent, which weren’t a lot and manageable; don’t be loud, have your rent on time, don’t slam doors, and don’t block the walkway or foyer. Mrs.Turner, after a while, saw herself out to go take care of the paperwork on the flat. You took your suitcase up to your room and began to unpack, starting with making your bed.

However, the second you put the fitted sheet on the mattress, your phone went off, startling you and causing the sheet to flick up from the corners and tangle in the middle of the bed. You were scowling when you picked up the device, your face dropping as you looked at your phone to see ‘Unknown’ at the top of the screen, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn't push away the thought that came as a whisper in your mind. What if it’s him? You try to make your voice as steady as possible as you answer the call. “Hello?”

A husky, British voice came on the phone after a few seconds silence. “Is this Ava Bradford?”

“Yes… this is she.” You replied hesitantly, your grip on the phone turning your knuckles white as the tension grew.

“This is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. I’m calling about the case files I sent you earlier today.” The voice said and you physically relaxed at his words, the tension rolling off of your shoulders and falling to the floor as you sat on the unmade bed, letting a breath out of your lungs that you didn't know you had.

“Oh yes, sorry. Hi, um, yeah I got the files and have been over them. I was also told that I needed to come in soon. I can be there in a few hours after I unpack a bit if that’s okay.” You bit your nails out of habit and stared out of the window from the rickety bed. I need curtains.

“Yes well I was wondering if you could possibly come in sooner than that? It might be better if you got to meet the team before hand and see what evidence we have on the case so far, it might help you get a reading on it.” Greg said in an exasperated tone, like he just sat down after a run.

“Oh um… yes that shouldn't be a problem I just need to clean up and change. Send me the address and I should be there in no time.” You said trying to sound as content as possible when in reality you had begun to feel stretched thin.

“Alright I’ll text you the address and when you get here, come to my office and I will get you set up.” He said with a kind of excitement in his voice.

“Ok, thank you so much and I will see you soon. Goodbye.” You said, hanging up the phone without hearing a reply. Falling back and laying flat on the mattress, the still rumpled sheet under your head, you stared at the ceiling trying to calm your nerves. Calm down, you're not going to make it if you keep letting your fears and weaknesses show. It gets you nowhere and you’re not going to last. You can't break yet, not now.

Getting up from the bed and having a quick shower, you put on what you thought would be appropriate work attire. Your white “Boyfriend” fit T-shirt, a dark grey loose necked hoodie, and your pink winter coat, and your legs clad in a pair of basic, ripped, black jeans and you favorite converse you’ve had ever since you were a freshman in high school. A pair of black converse with little drawing you did in class AP Chemistry when you were bored. You remember when you got the generic sneaker like it was yesterday, your own quirks making them unique to only you. You had become apart of the family and the siblings wanted to give you something together, they settled on these converse because you had always wanted a pair. You remember the youngest, Nina, giving you the polka dot laces because she wanted them the be “pretty”.

As you laced up your peculiar shoes your phone alerted, notifying you of a message. Seeing that Greg had sent you the address of Scotland Yard with another message underneath.

It’s Greg. This is the address and when you get here just tell them your name and the receptionist should let you up.

You texted him back saying; Okay leaving now.

You grabbed your keys out of the little white bowl on the chipped, baby blue side table next to the door and left your new home, locking the door behind you. Mrs.Turner must have heard your footsteps coming down the stairs because she was coming out of her flat as you got to the bottom.

“Are you heading out so soon dear?” She asked as she saw you fixing your jacket to get ready for the bone chilling weather that awaited for you almost tauntingly

“Yes ma’am. The boss wants me there a little early so I will see too the paperwork later on. I don't know when I’ll be back so don't wait up.” You said over your shoulder getting ready to open the door but you paused and quickly stepped over to Mrs.Turner and engulfed her in a quick hug. “Thank you.” You whispered softly.

She was taken back by the sudden embrace but returned the gesture lovingly. “Anything you need love. Be safe and don’t be too late.” She said with a motherly smile.

“I will. Bye.” You said as you open the door and leave, immediately feeling the London air freeze your nose, making you hug your jacket closer to your body. Closing the door behind you and walking to the curb, you waved down a taxi.

“New Scotland Yard please.”

[babytuvok]

TWO YEARS TO THE DAY LATER and I am finally ready to share the story of when I fangirled hard enough to Edward James Olmos that he gave me a free autographed photo of him and Mary McDonnell

So this might get a tad longish, so I’ll be under a cut, but here is a brief summary: a Trump supporter pissed me off so much that despite me being high as heck on adderall, I had to go talk to EJO

In July 2015 I got my then romantic partner and his roommate to watch BSG with me so when I found out EJO was going to be at San Jose Comic Con in August, it only took a little bit of pestering to get them on board.

It was a 2-day convention and my always broke ass had to work late Friday night so we were only going to make it for half of the first day. Saturday morning rolls around and the boys are tripping out because our usual drug guy fell through. It was kind of a ritual for us to pick up some uppers anytime we went out of town, and tbh we were all heavily drug dependent back in those days SO you bet we took 2 extra hours to pop in and out of the city to pick up.

Finally dosed and got on our way, hit the usual weekend bay area traffic and arrived to the con at 3pm. We walked in and the line to meet this guy stretched wall to wall and I was immediately intimidated and tried to walk back out lmao. An announcement was made that they were ending for the day at 4, so I felt a lot less pressured to overcome my anxiety yet. Spent that hour in Star Trek collectors heaven though..

Rest of the eve/night we spent doing things GROWN ASS ADULTS shouldn’t be doing like sneaking into mini-golf and climbing trees with bottles of Jack and hot-boxing our hotel room while watching the series finale of Hannibal...

OK so Sunday. This was my day. We were having breakfast at the Red Robin in Morgan Hill with all the white families that just got done with church, the three of us doubled-down on 60 extended (okay this is a pretty big dose) and I’m starting to get anxious again (with or without the drugs it wouldn’t have mattered) like “I’m not/I can’t meet this guy, I don’t know how to approach him or even what to say blah blah blah” and the boys are getting mad at me because I talked about this for weeks (and planned what i wanted to say) and I’m being lame and I’ll be fine..

We show up to day 2, 12pm.. and literally no one is in line and now I am hella freaking the fuck out because literally it is only me that is stopping this from happening. My friend immediately walks up and shakes his hand and chats for a second and comes back and says the obvious that he is a nice dude, and I am like frozen, second hand embarrassment even though nothing bad happened. But my scared ass walks to the exact opposite corner of the building to slowly browse and psyche myself up for this.

so I got sucked in to this guy’s 90s scifi trading card collection, specifically the x-files binders lol and then he starts to make small talk and stuff, he asks what I study. OK I studied Political Science and Religious Studies, and it LITERALLY does not matter which answer I give it always starts something. but I choose the easier one and say politics.. and hooo boy

This fucker just goes off on me, saying shit like how stupid and lazy my generation is and that we don’t work hard, are entitled and have no idea how the real world works (the usual propaganda), and if we did we would be thinking about voting for Trump in the 2016 election (mind you this was VERY early on where Trump was still considered a joke even to the republicans)

Remember I am HIGH AS Shit. I am 2000% extra aware of and feeling the aggressive and hateful energy coursing through my veins from this interaction. Now Im sure he said other things I don’t remember because all I could do is focus on my breathing as to not get manipulated into whatever space this guy was trying to create but I heard a break in his rant, looked up, smiled and said “Thanks for sharing your collection with me” and dipped for the back exit to smoke 18 cigarettes.

Here is where I am letting myself get fucking pissed off, pacing and chain smoking. Neither of the boys are answering their phones. Then I realized how badass I was just then, and proud of myseelf for spiritually blocking out a nazi (again this is before they identified as such and punching them was a thing). I was like if I can handle this asshole, I can go meet Edward James Fucking Olmos no. problem.

I march back in and go straight to his table but then I took a detour to sit in a white folding chair about 20 feet away for 25 minutes first. Eventually one of his security dudes comes up to me and is like “Are you waiting for an autograph?” and I’m like “no, but I do want to talk to him for a minute if that is possible”

The guy asks for my name and we walk up to EJO together and he goes “This is Amy. She would like to talk with you.” And now I am realizing that everyone here is trying to gauge how severe my social handicap is.. but he puts out his hand to shake

“Hi, I am Ed.” I shook his hand!!

“I’m Amy. I just had the most awful interaction with a Trump supporter here so Im a little put off. He kept telling me how stupid me and my generation are and it makes me very grateful that you are a humanist and philanthropist. I’d recently watched the UN Panel and you talked about the invention of race as a tool for genocide and it means so much to me that you would use your voice and influence on that platform to address these kinds of things...”

and I trail off cuz Im about to ramble and shit and I noticed how he was just taking everything I said very seriously, like wasn’t expecting any of that at all. HE pauses and looks back up at me and says how special that panel was to him, that he’ll never do something as important again in his life. Then he asks me where I go to school and what I study, so I tell him and he is impressed with all the creds. Asks me if I am planning on going into politics.

“Not in the public sense. I want to do policy research targeting intersections of poverty, race, and education” And I swear to god his eyes snap up so fast to meet mine, like he is in admiral mode here and I am captivated. Straight in the eyes to me he goes

“We need you. All of us needs you up there doing that, fighting for that, for us. I have a feeling we are about to enter some tough times. I can tell you are special and it takes special people to make things happen”

I said thank you but I am about to burst into tears. I mean we all know this but let me reinforce it.. Ed is such an intense human and I had all 100% of this guy in my presence, overwhelmingly so, and I am mostly shook because he literally had no obligation to say anything. This guy fucking met me 5 minutes ago but he is ready to say that, and I sense he isn’t the kind of guy to just say shit. Also I AM STILL VERY HIGH lets not forget

So I change the subject because that other stuff is getting too intense for me, and I switch over to BSG lol and I ask him about Adama’s tendency to punish himself physically when he feels he has played some role in pain or negativity coming into his loved ones’ lives. He talks particularly about Adama’s alcoholism in season 4 and how he approached it as a combo of punishment and escapism (which let me tell you is..accurate). He finishes up his answer and all of a sudden I fucking blurt out for some ungodly fucking reason

“I love you and Mary, you are so cute together, I hope to meet her too”

Mortified. I am overstepping boundaries. I am dying inside and I can’t believe I got 3 thoughts out before I stopped.

He smiles and giggles and grabs this pic to sign for me for freeee and says “I hope you will too”

Amy- all of my love to you.

Like is that something he would normally sign for someone? Is that something anyone would sign to a random fan?

Anyways he gave it to me, I said thanks and I literally ran out of the convention clutching this picture to my chest and sat down against the building and started crying of the ultimate level embarrassment I could personally possibly be on. My boys find me and laugh at me and I cried the whole way home.

I still get major embarrassment even today just thinking about this interaction, no matter how well it turned out and how much of an impact EJO had on me.

Feels good to finally share my story in its entirety!! Thanks for reading

[galucy-blog]

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  The Pros

Great price for a GTX 1060 GPU; Strong performance; Relatively long battery life; two-year warranty; Easy to upgrade

The Cons

Display is on the dim side

Verdict

The Acer Predator Helios 300 is a great deal for a gaming machine with a GTX 1060 GPU.

Lots of laptop companies claim that their systems are great deals, but Acer is actually putting its money where its mouth is — and with a gaming laptop, no less. The Acer Predator Helios 300 ($1,099.99 to start) offers a powerful, VR-ready Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU for a lower price than competitors and runs circles around the GTX 1050 Ti cards that competing laptops use at that price. It’s upgradable, should you want to spend more to improve it later, but the display is dimmer than I’d like. But if you don’t mind that, you’ll get a powerful gaming notebook for a steal.

Design

The Predator’s aluminum-and-plastic design doesn’t stray far from the look of Acer’s other budget gaming notebooks; its black, metal lid has two red stripes flanking the Predator logo. There’s a small plastic bumper on the top of the lid that feels far cheaper than the aluminum that surrounds it.

When you lift the lid, you’ll find the 15.6-inch, 1080p display, surrounded by a bezel that has the Predator logo on the bottom and the Acer logo on the top-left corner. That second logo is distracting, and I wish Acer had the confidence to let the Predator brand stand on its own, the way Dell does with Alienware and Asus does with its Republic of Gamers line. There’s also a full keyboard with a number pad utilizing red backlighting and red WASD keys, as well as a black, metal deck.

At 5.5 pounds and 15.4 x 10.5 x 1.5 inches, the Predator Helios 300 is a little larger than other mainstream gaming notebooks but also just a tad lighter. The Asus ROG Strix GL553VD (15.1 x 10 x 1.2 inches, 5.6 pounds) and the Lenovo Legion Y520 (15 x 10.4 x 1 inches, 5.6 pounds) are slightly smaller. The 17-inch MSI GP72VR 7RFX Leopard Pro is, unsurprisingly, bigger and heavier (16.5 x 10.6 x 1.5 inches, 6.4 pounds).

As any good gaming notebook should, the Predator has plenty of ports. On the left side are an Ethernet jack, a USB Type-C port, HDMI output, a USB 3.0 port and an SD card slot. A headphone jack and a pair of USB 2.0 ports are located on the right side of the laptop.

Display

The 15.6-inch, 1080p display on the Predator is sharp but otherwise lackluster. When I watched the trailer for Marvel’s Inhumans, Medusa’s red hair didn’t pop against her lavender dress, and bright lights overpowered both Black Bolt and Medusa in a scene together. It wasn’t as bright as I would have liked, but it was perfectly usable.

I had a similar experience in Mass Effect: Andromeda. In dark areas, I wished I could bump up the brightness, but in lighter parts of the game, I could see fine. Some fires during a space battle looked more orange than red, but it otherwise looked accurate.

The Predator’s display covers 81 percent of the sRGB color gamut, surpassing the Legion (68 percent) but falling below the 15-inch laptop average (94 percent), the Strix (122 percent) and the Leopard Pro (165 percent).

MORE: The Best Laptops for Every Need

The colors aren’t the most accurate, either. The Predator’s Delta-E score of 4.7 (0 is ideal) is worse than the average (2.2), as well as the scores for the Strix (1.6), the Leopard Pro (0.3) and the Legion (0.2)

The screen measured 226 nits of average brightness on our light meter, which is dimmer than the average (274 nits), the Strix (269 nits) and the Leopard Pro (245 nits), but brighter than the Legion (220 nits).

Keyboard and Touchpad

The Predator’s keyboard is comfortable, but I wish it felt more responsive. The keys have  1.6 millimeters of vertical travel, so I never felt as if I were bottoming out. But the keys require 79 grams of pressure to actuate, which kept them from feeling light and clicky. It didn’t take long to get used to the extra pressure, though, and I typed at 109 words per minute (within my usual 107-115-wpm range) with my standard 2 percent error rate).

There are a few oddities on the keyboard. The Shift key and the top arrow key are very close together — far closer than any other two keys on the keyboard — and the right arrow key takes up some space in the number pad. Unlike the keyboard on the similarly priced Strix, the Predator’s keyboard is backlit only in red; it doesn’t have full RGB lighting.

The 4.1 x 3-inch touchpad is spacious, accurate and responsive to Windows 10 gestures; I had no problem pinching to zoom or swiping my Windows away. I had to click a bit harder than I usually expect to, though for games, most players use a dedicated gaming mouse anyway.

Audio

Acer’s TrueHarmony speakers are nice and loud, just how I like them. When I listened to Zedd and Alessia Cara’s “Stay,” the computer pumped the song from wall to wall of our midsize meeting room, producing  clear vocals, synths and drums. The bass wasn’t as strong as I would have liked, though.

When I played Mass Effect: Andromeda, I could clearly hear the lasers in the middle of a space battle, and chatter with teammates was loud and clear.

Acer’s TrueHarmony speakers are nice and loud, just how I like them.

The preinstalled Dolby Audio app offers a series of profiles, including Music, Movie and Game modes. Movie mode made it slightly louder, and Game mode focused on the drums. I found that the default Music setting was a fine balance.

Gaming, Graphics and VR

The Predator’s Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM is a great value, and it showed its might in our performance testing. When I played Mass Effect: Andromeda on ultra settings at 1080p with FXAA anti-aliasing, the game ran between 70 and 80 frames per second during battle and occasionally dropped down to 64 fps during interactive cutscenes.

On the Rise of the Tomb Raider benchmark (1080p, very high settings), the Predator ran the game at 67 fps, surpassing the mainstream notebook average (36 fps), the Strix (18 fps, GTX 1050), the Leopard Pro (33 fps, GTX 1060) and the Legion (46 fps, GTX 1050 Ti).

MORE: The Best Gaming Laptops

The Hitman benchmark (1080p, very high settings) rendered at 67 fps on the Helios 300, falling behind the Leopard Pro (78 fps) but ahead of the average (44 fps), the Strix (30 fps) and the Legion (60 fps).

Grand Theft Auto V (1080p, ultra settings) played at 49 fps, which is slightly better than the average (47 fps) and the Leopard Pro (48 fps) and much smoother than the Strix (23 fps). We consider anything over 30 fps to be playable.

The Predator achieved a score of 7.1 on the SteamVR Performance Test, surpassing the average of 5.6 and tying the Leopard Pro.

Performance

The Predator is armed with a 2.8-GHz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU, 16GB of RAM and a 256GB solid-state drive, which is more than enough for some serious multitasking. I had 30 tabs open in Chrome while I watched a 1080p stream on Twitch, and didn’t see any lag.

On the Geekbench 4 overall performance test, the Predator notched a score of 13,587, overcoming the mainstream average (10,675) and the rest of the pack. The Legion earned a score of 13,037, the Strix reached 12,253 and the Leopard Pro achieved 12,147.

The Predator’s Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM is a great value, and it showed its might in our performance testing.

It took the Predator 27 seconds to copy 4.97GB of mixed media files, resulting in a rate of 188.5 megabytes per second. The average is 207.6 MBps, while the Legion (363.5 MBps) and the Leopard Pro (565.5 MBps) were both quicker. The Strix (94.2 MBps) came in a distant last place.

The Predator took 3 minutes and 22 seconds to pair 20,000 names and addresses in our OpenOffice Spreadsheet Macro, handily beating the average of 4:12. The Legion (3:19) was quicker, and the Strix (3:31) and the Leopard Pro (3:24) were a little slower.

Battery Life

This is a gaming laptop that lasted far longer than we expected. It ran for 6 hours and 48 minutes on the Laptop Mag Battery Test, which browses the web continuously over Wi-Fi. That’s lower than the mainstream average (7:00), but gaming notebooks tend to not even come close to that.

MORE: Laptops with the Longest Battery Life

The Leopard Pro, for instance, endured for only 2:32, while the Legion (3:39) and the Strix (3:41) also died out much sooner than the Predator.

Heat

When it’s not gaming, the Predator stays nice and cool under simple workloads. After we streamed HD video from YouTube for 15 minutes, the bottom of the notebook reached just 88 degrees Fahrenheit; the keyboard between the G and H keys measured 84.5 degrees; and the touchpad was 79.5 degrees. All of these temperatures are below our 95-degree comfort threshold.

But things heat up when you start to play: The bottom climbed to 113.5 degrees, and the keyboard reached 104.5 degrees. However, the touchpad stayed cool, at 83.5 degrees.

Webcam

The 720p webcam on the Predator is nice and sharp, but its colors aren’t accurate. While I could make out individual hairs and see the creases in a colleague’s jacket behind me, my navy-blue shirt appeared black.

Software and Warranty

Acer’s biggest addition to the Predator is its PredatorSense app, which lets you monitor CPU and GPU speeds and fine-tune fan control for optimal performance.

You’ll also find all the bloat usually packed into Windows 10, including Sling, Facebook, Twitter, Candy Crush Soda Saga and Royal Revolt 2.

Acer sells the Predator Helios 300 with a two-year warranty. See how the company did on our Tech Support Showdown and Best and Worst Brands report.

Configurations and Value

The Predator Helios 300 we reviewed was the $1,099.99 base model, which has a 2.8-GHz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU, an Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM, 16GB of RAM and a 256GB SSD.

It’s remarkably easy to upgrade. On the bottom are two doors — each secured by a single screw — to access the memory and the drive bay.

MORE: Best Acer Laptops

If you prefer to buy it with more storage, you can get an identical model that throws in a 1TB HDD alongside a 128GB SSD, for $1,399.99. Models coming later this year will include a metal fan and an overclockable GPU. Acer also sells a series of 17-inch Predator Helios 300 configurations with otherwise identical specs (except a bump up to a 512GB SSD) starting at $1,399.99.

Any laptop with a GTX 1060 GPU at that starting price is a great value. Many laptops in this price range use lesser cards. At $1,249, the Legion has a GTX 1050 Ti, and the Leopard Pro costs at least $200 more with the same GPU.

Bottom Line

The Acer Predator Helios 300 is a powerful, VR-ready gaming machine that costs several hundred dollars less than you might expect. Acer cut some corners with the display to get there, but its easy upgradability makes it a laptop you can keep gaming on for the long term. The battery life also impressed us.

If you want a better display and faster storage, the MSI GP72VR 7RFX Leopard Pro is the way to go, but you’ll have to pay at least another $200, and it gets only 2 hours and 32 minutes of battery life. Lots of companies tout laptops that are strong values. Acer’s Predator Helios 300 is the real deal.

  TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS

CPU 2.8-Ghz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU Operating System Windows 10 Home RAM 16GB RAM Upgradable to 32GB Hard Drive Size 256GB SSD Hard Drive Speed Hard Drive Type M.2 SATA SSD Secondary Hard Drive Size Secondary Hard Drive Speed Secondary Hard Drive Type Display Size 15.6 Highest Available Resolution 1920 x 1080 Native Resolution 1920×1080 Optical Drive Optical Drive Speed Graphics Card Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 / 6GB Video Memory 6 GB Wi-Fi 802.11ac Wi-Fi Model 2×2 MIMO Bluetooth Bluetooth 4.0 Mobile Broadband Touchpad Size 4.1 x 3.0 inches Ports (excluding USB) Kensington Lock Ports (excluding USB) USB 2.0 Ports (excluding USB) USB 3.0 Ports (excluding USB) USB 3.1 with Type-C Ports (excluding USB) Ethernet Ports (excluding USB) HDMI Ports (excluding USB) Headphone USB Ports 4 Card Slots SD memory reader Warranty/Support 2-year warranty Size 15.4 x 10.5 x 1.5 inches Weight 5.47 pounds Company Website acer.com

Acer Predator Helios 300 (15-Inch) Review

The Pros Great price for a GTX 1060 GPU; Strong performance; Relatively long battery life; two-year warranty; Easy to upgrade…

Acer Predator Helios 300 (15-Inch) Review The Pros Great price for a GTX 1060 GPU; Strong performance; Relatively long battery life; two-year warranty; Easy to upgrade…

[koristore-blog]

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  The Pros

Great price for a GTX 1060 GPU; Strong performance; Relatively long battery life; two-year warranty; Easy to upgrade

The Cons

Display is on the dim side

Verdict

The Acer Predator Helios 300 is a great deal for a gaming machine with a GTX 1060 GPU.

Lots of laptop companies claim that their systems are great deals, but Acer is actually putting its money where its mouth is — and with a gaming laptop, no less. The Acer Predator Helios 300 ($1,099.99 to start) offers a powerful, VR-ready Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU for a lower price than competitors and runs circles around the GTX 1050 Ti cards that competing laptops use at that price. It’s upgradable, should you want to spend more to improve it later, but the display is dimmer than I’d like. But if you don’t mind that, you’ll get a powerful gaming notebook for a steal.

Design

The Predator’s aluminum-and-plastic design doesn’t stray far from the look of Acer’s other budget gaming notebooks; its black, metal lid has two red stripes flanking the Predator logo. There’s a small plastic bumper on the top of the lid that feels far cheaper than the aluminum that surrounds it.

When you lift the lid, you’ll find the 15.6-inch, 1080p display, surrounded by a bezel that has the Predator logo on the bottom and the Acer logo on the top-left corner. That second logo is distracting, and I wish Acer had the confidence to let the Predator brand stand on its own, the way Dell does with Alienware and Asus does with its Republic of Gamers line. There’s also a full keyboard with a number pad utilizing red backlighting and red WASD keys, as well as a black, metal deck.

At 5.5 pounds and 15.4 x 10.5 x 1.5 inches, the Predator Helios 300 is a little larger than other mainstream gaming notebooks but also just a tad lighter. The Asus ROG Strix GL553VD (15.1 x 10 x 1.2 inches, 5.6 pounds) and the Lenovo Legion Y520 (15 x 10.4 x 1 inches, 5.6 pounds) are slightly smaller. The 17-inch MSI GP72VR 7RFX Leopard Pro is, unsurprisingly, bigger and heavier (16.5 x 10.6 x 1.5 inches, 6.4 pounds).

As any good gaming notebook should, the Predator has plenty of ports. On the left side are an Ethernet jack, a USB Type-C port, HDMI output, a USB 3.0 port and an SD card slot. A headphone jack and a pair of USB 2.0 ports are located on the right side of the laptop.

Display

The 15.6-inch, 1080p display on the Predator is sharp but otherwise lackluster. When I watched the trailer for Marvel’s Inhumans, Medusa’s red hair didn’t pop against her lavender dress, and bright lights overpowered both Black Bolt and Medusa in a scene together. It wasn’t as bright as I would have liked, but it was perfectly usable.

I had a similar experience in Mass Effect: Andromeda. In dark areas, I wished I could bump up the brightness, but in lighter parts of the game, I could see fine. Some fires during a space battle looked more orange than red, but it otherwise looked accurate.

The Predator’s display covers 81 percent of the sRGB color gamut, surpassing the Legion (68 percent) but falling below the 15-inch laptop average (94 percent), the Strix (122 percent) and the Leopard Pro (165 percent).

MORE: The Best Laptops for Every Need

The colors aren’t the most accurate, either. The Predator’s Delta-E score of 4.7 (0 is ideal) is worse than the average (2.2), as well as the scores for the Strix (1.6), the Leopard Pro (0.3) and the Legion (0.2)

The screen measured 226 nits of average brightness on our light meter, which is dimmer than the average (274 nits), the Strix (269 nits) and the Leopard Pro (245 nits), but brighter than the Legion (220 nits).

Keyboard and Touchpad

The Predator’s keyboard is comfortable, but I wish it felt more responsive. The keys have  1.6 millimeters of vertical travel, so I never felt as if I were bottoming out. But the keys require 79 grams of pressure to actuate, which kept them from feeling light and clicky. It didn’t take long to get used to the extra pressure, though, and I typed at 109 words per minute (within my usual 107-115-wpm range) with my standard 2 percent error rate).

There are a few oddities on the keyboard. The Shift key and the top arrow key are very close together — far closer than any other two keys on the keyboard — and the right arrow key takes up some space in the number pad. Unlike the keyboard on the similarly priced Strix, the Predator’s keyboard is backlit only in red; it doesn’t have full RGB lighting.

The 4.1 x 3-inch touchpad is spacious, accurate and responsive to Windows 10 gestures; I had no problem pinching to zoom or swiping my Windows away. I had to click a bit harder than I usually expect to, though for games, most players use a dedicated gaming mouse anyway.

Audio

Acer’s TrueHarmony speakers are nice and loud, just how I like them. When I listened to Zedd and Alessia Cara’s “Stay,” the computer pumped the song from wall to wall of our midsize meeting room, producing  clear vocals, synths and drums. The bass wasn’t as strong as I would have liked, though.

When I played Mass Effect: Andromeda, I could clearly hear the lasers in the middle of a space battle, and chatter with teammates was loud and clear.

Acer’s TrueHarmony speakers are nice and loud, just how I like them.

The preinstalled Dolby Audio app offers a series of profiles, including Music, Movie and Game modes. Movie mode made it slightly louder, and Game mode focused on the drums. I found that the default Music setting was a fine balance.

Gaming, Graphics and VR

The Predator’s Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM is a great value, and it showed its might in our performance testing. When I played Mass Effect: Andromeda on ultra settings at 1080p with FXAA anti-aliasing, the game ran between 70 and 80 frames per second during battle and occasionally dropped down to 64 fps during interactive cutscenes.

On the Rise of the Tomb Raider benchmark (1080p, very high settings), the Predator ran the game at 67 fps, surpassing the mainstream notebook average (36 fps), the Strix (18 fps, GTX 1050), the Leopard Pro (33 fps, GTX 1060) and the Legion (46 fps, GTX 1050 Ti).

MORE: The Best Gaming Laptops

The Hitman benchmark (1080p, very high settings) rendered at 67 fps on the Helios 300, falling behind the Leopard Pro (78 fps) but ahead of the average (44 fps), the Strix (30 fps) and the Legion (60 fps).

Grand Theft Auto V (1080p, ultra settings) played at 49 fps, which is slightly better than the average (47 fps) and the Leopard Pro (48 fps) and much smoother than the Strix (23 fps). We consider anything over 30 fps to be playable.

The Predator achieved a score of 7.1 on the SteamVR Performance Test, surpassing the average of 5.6 and tying the Leopard Pro.

Performance

The Predator is armed with a 2.8-GHz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU, 16GB of RAM and a 256GB solid-state drive, which is more than enough for some serious multitasking. I had 30 tabs open in Chrome while I watched a 1080p stream on Twitch, and didn’t see any lag.

On the Geekbench 4 overall performance test, the Predator notched a score of 13,587, overcoming the mainstream average (10,675) and the rest of the pack. The Legion earned a score of 13,037, the Strix reached 12,253 and the Leopard Pro achieved 12,147.

The Predator’s Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM is a great value, and it showed its might in our performance testing.

It took the Predator 27 seconds to copy 4.97GB of mixed media files, resulting in a rate of 188.5 megabytes per second. The average is 207.6 MBps, while the Legion (363.5 MBps) and the Leopard Pro (565.5 MBps) were both quicker. The Strix (94.2 MBps) came in a distant last place.

The Predator took 3 minutes and 22 seconds to pair 20,000 names and addresses in our OpenOffice Spreadsheet Macro, handily beating the average of 4:12. The Legion (3:19) was quicker, and the Strix (3:31) and the Leopard Pro (3:24) were a little slower.

Battery Life

This is a gaming laptop that lasted far longer than we expected. It ran for 6 hours and 48 minutes on the Laptop Mag Battery Test, which browses the web continuously over Wi-Fi. That’s lower than the mainstream average (7:00), but gaming notebooks tend to not even come close to that.

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The Leopard Pro, for instance, endured for only 2:32, while the Legion (3:39) and the Strix (3:41) also died out much sooner than the Predator.

Heat

When it’s not gaming, the Predator stays nice and cool under simple workloads. After we streamed HD video from YouTube for 15 minutes, the bottom of the notebook reached just 88 degrees Fahrenheit; the keyboard between the G and H keys measured 84.5 degrees; and the touchpad was 79.5 degrees. All of these temperatures are below our 95-degree comfort threshold.

But things heat up when you start to play: The bottom climbed to 113.5 degrees, and the keyboard reached 104.5 degrees. However, the touchpad stayed cool, at 83.5 degrees.

Webcam

The 720p webcam on the Predator is nice and sharp, but its colors aren’t accurate. While I could make out individual hairs and see the creases in a colleague’s jacket behind me, my navy-blue shirt appeared black.

Software and Warranty

Acer’s biggest addition to the Predator is its PredatorSense app, which lets you monitor CPU and GPU speeds and fine-tune fan control for optimal performance.

You’ll also find all the bloat usually packed into Windows 10, including Sling, Facebook, Twitter, Candy Crush Soda Saga and Royal Revolt 2.

Acer sells the Predator Helios 300 with a two-year warranty. See how the company did on our Tech Support Showdown and Best and Worst Brands report.

Configurations and Value

The Predator Helios 300 we reviewed was the $1,099.99 base model, which has a 2.8-GHz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU, an Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU with 6GB of VRAM, 16GB of RAM and a 256GB SSD.

It’s remarkably easy to upgrade. On the bottom are two doors — each secured by a single screw — to access the memory and the drive bay.

MORE: Best Acer Laptops

If you prefer to buy it with more storage, you can get an identical model that throws in a 1TB HDD alongside a 128GB SSD, for $1,399.99. Models coming later this year will include a metal fan and an overclockable GPU. Acer also sells a series of 17-inch Predator Helios 300 configurations with otherwise identical specs (except a bump up to a 512GB SSD) starting at $1,399.99.

Any laptop with a GTX 1060 GPU at that starting price is a great value. Many laptops in this price range use lesser cards. At $1,249, the Legion has a GTX 1050 Ti, and the Leopard Pro costs at least $200 more with the same GPU.

Bottom Line

The Acer Predator Helios 300 is a powerful, VR-ready gaming machine that costs several hundred dollars less than you might expect. Acer cut some corners with the display to get there, but its easy upgradability makes it a laptop you can keep gaming on for the long term. The battery life also impressed us.

If you want a better display and faster storage, the MSI GP72VR 7RFX Leopard Pro is the way to go, but you’ll have to pay at least another $200, and it gets only 2 hours and 32 minutes of battery life. Lots of companies tout laptops that are strong values. Acer’s Predator Helios 300 is the real deal.

  TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS

CPU 2.8-Ghz Intel Core i7-7700HQ CPU Operating System Windows 10 Home RAM 16GB RAM Upgradable to 32GB Hard Drive Size 256GB SSD Hard Drive Speed Hard Drive Type M.2 SATA SSD Secondary Hard Drive Size Secondary Hard Drive Speed Secondary Hard Drive Type Display Size 15.6 Highest Available Resolution 1920 x 1080 Native Resolution 1920×1080 Optical Drive Optical Drive Speed Graphics Card Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 / 6GB Video Memory 6 GB Wi-Fi 802.11ac Wi-Fi Model 2×2 MIMO Bluetooth Bluetooth 4.0 Mobile Broadband Touchpad Size 4.1 x 3.0 inches Ports (excluding USB) Kensington Lock Ports (excluding USB) USB 2.0 Ports (excluding USB) USB 3.0 Ports (excluding USB) USB 3.1 with Type-C Ports (excluding USB) Ethernet Ports (excluding USB) HDMI Ports (excluding USB) Headphone USB Ports 4 Card Slots SD memory reader Warranty/Support 2-year warranty Size 15.4 x 10.5 x 1.5 inches Weight 5.47 pounds Company Website acer.com

Acer Predator Helios 300 (15-Inch) Review The Pros Great price for a GTX 1060 GPU; Strong performance; Relatively long battery life; two-year warranty; Easy to upgrade…