#if anyone wonders why they didn't use the comms it's because a) panic response and b) chrome was outside looking for him for um. a minute

[lovinggreeniehours]

45 from the one word prompt? :0

45. panic

↳ renata × chrome

↳ i won't count but this is pretty small i think. 500 words or less. but don't take my word on that

↳ (hi avil :) ) okay originally this should've been longer and i plan to revise and fact-check this for proper posting in the future but the base idea was cool so here's the first draft i made a million years ago (and finished just now) ✨️ if the second half is kind of Lacking then it's bc it's 1am right now sorry hgdgjgdfhj

Chrome was a light sleeper. So he was especially worried to wake up in the middle of the night and find himself alone in his bed.

Half asleep, he grasped the blankets and pillows next to him, stomach churning unpleasantly as his waking awareness increased. In the space Arion should have been occupying were only wrinkled sheets and a scrunched up blanket. Surveying the room, Chrome could only confirm what he already knew. Arion wasn't there. He was alone with the ever so familiar, sinking feeling that everything was wrong.

Naturally, he bolted for the door.

Running through the empty hallways, his mind ran faster. Arion was there when he fell asleep last night. (Wasn't he?) And Arion wasn't one to get up from bed without good reason.

Chrome had to pause, realizing suddenly that he wasn't quite sure where he was going. The only thing he was certain of was that he hadn't passed by anyone thus far.

Did he get another anxiety attack? Chrome would've felt him leaving the bed then. Should have felt it. It didn't take a lot to wake him up, and Arion moved a lot when he was stressed. But it wasn't a completely unfounded assumption to say that Arion simply snuck out. He was always good at being undetected if he wanted to be.

But even then, why would he? Where would he go? Why didn't he just.. wake him up if he needed something?

As soon as he asked himself, Chrome already knew the answer. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

It was in one of the storage rooms where he lost momentum in his search. In the far back, he recognized a crates filled with ammunition. He'd found Arion in the crevices behind them a few months ago; He hadn't yet gotten his memories back, nor the carefully crafted self-assurance that came with them. A week into being a Strike Hawk and he was crying behind a stack of crates, overwhelmed by the faces and names and places he couldn't keep up with. Arion once shot himself on accident when they were cadets, and yet this was the first time Chrome ever saw him cry.

After the initial panic of being caught, Arion explained that the physical pressure made him feel more grounded. It was why Chrome bought weighted blankets.

Did he miss something? Why did he leave...?

But as he was closing the door behind him to continue his search, a voice cut through the silence.

"Chrome?"

He whirled around at the sound, his eyes meeting Arion's wide ones.

"Arion." Chrome exhaled, thoughts moving through his head faster than he could hear them. But still, it was as if a sack was dropped from his chest, propelling him forward until they were within arm's length. His hands gripped Arion's shoulders, as if to anchor him as he heaved out a sigh of relief. "You didn't leave base."

"Leave base?" Arion frowned. But as Chrome's hands reached him, he moved in kind, gently tracing fingers along his waist. "You're not sleepwalking, are you?"

He shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. I am perfectly awake."

"Did I wake you?"

"Not at all." He said, quieter. "..Why did you leave?"

Arion winced. "Oh.. See, Kamui knocked on your door, he needed help with something, and I didn't want to wake you up, so... I. I just helped him myself."

"Oh."

Arion leaned forward; close enough that all Chrome could focus on were the red of his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He murmured. "You look.."

Chrome tilted his head.

"..Intense."

Had he been that anxious? Now that Arion was right in front of him, the panic of a few minutes' past felt years away. And yet, what did he say earlier? Of course, he knew Arion wouldn't just up and disappear into thin air. They were past that. But waking up earlier felt as though the silence would consume him whole, even if they only have been sharing the room for weeks.

Logically speaking, Arion would not have left base.

As soon as he registered the thought, he let out another sigh. Arion wasn't going to disappear on him in the dead of the night. He knew that. What he didn't know was that his shoulders were still tense. His eyebrows were still knit together. His fingers twitched; tapping as if restless. As if itching to pull him closer.

Arion, though, saw all of it quite well. He raised his hand up to Chrome's hair, idly playing with the strands at the back of his hair as he pushed his head forward. Just until their foreheads pressed together.

"You sure you're okay, bud?"

Chrome nodded.

"You're sure?"

Chrome hummed in acknowledgement, a quiet smile slipping through the wall of worry.

"Mhm. I'm okay."

"Okay." Arion grinned back. A trill of panic returned to Chrome. He knew that look.

"What are you— AHH."

Before he could guess what had prompted the bout of mischief, hands had gripped the back of his knees, and he was pulled up from the ground into a bridal carry.

"Time to head back to the room then." Arion declared proudly.

Chrome's face burned furiously. But, as Arion had hoped, all signs of panic seemed long gone. Those things, they could discuss in the comfort of their room later. For now, he needed to focus on making Chrome feel a little better.

"You better be enjoying yourself." Arion winked playfully.

Chrome then covered his face with his hands, groaning. Cute.

"Must you do this out in the open? Where everyone can see?"

"They're all asleep anyway, it's fine!"

"They won't be sleeping for very long with how loudly you're talking.."

"Do you want me to put you down?"

A beat of silence passed.

"Just please hurry already."

"Okayyy."

If Arion held him a little tighter as he said that, he supposed Chrome wouldn't be able to notice.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord: Allies

Troy

Gar is about as native as a Pandoran can get, and has for years had a very soft spot for the bratty King.

He's old colonist, thinks his parents might have been with Atlas on one of the many failed corporate town setups that plagued Pandora 30-ish years ago. He was too young to remember who's banner they flew under when his family stepped out of the shuttle and onto the dust planes they’d been instructed to settle, just that things went wrong fast and anyone still alive 18 months later had needed to adapt quickly to what constitutes living on this planet.

He was drawn to the Holy City for the same reasons as most survivalists, it was an opportunity for safety and a roof over your head. Not needing to fight to eat or scrabble to stay alive is a blessing for most Pandorans, and he's one of the thousands who live within the walls who don't quite worship the twins as Gods, but praise them as holy... because the twins gave them a chance to have a home. Wether they are deities or not isn't a factor in the loyalty they've’ earned.

He's skilled with food. Knows how to spice spoiled flesh to hide the rot, pickle cactus root and delicate rock blossoms for long storage, or how long rakk wing needs to be slow roasted to turn from gamey string to meat that melts in the mouth.

Like most in the HC, he ended up where his skills have value and has ran the kitchens in the Grand Cathedral since its founding bricks were set.

It didn't take very long for him to find Troy in it one night - picking through ingredients and half finished dishes in the early AM.

While he'd expected to need to drop to his knees and grovel, the God King had seemed more embarrassed than anything, awkwardly explaining he hadn't eaten that day and asking if there was anything left from the after sermon banquet. 

His eager politeness had hit Gar hard, but his reaction to finding out the leftovers had been destroyed was what left a lasting impression.

Gar had thought the twins affluent spoiled little shits who'd hit things lucky on Pandora and been clever enough to know how to use their wealth to culture worship, so when Troy was genuinely upset to the point of disgust that food had been wasted like that? It changed his perception immediately.

This wasn't the reaction of some egotistical little shitbag from a wealthy background, this was the visceral panic and anger of someone who'd starved before, who understood the insult of food being destroyed when there were so many hungry... when he'd known hunger.

It took less than 24 hours for the kitchen policies to be changed and Gar's team to find out nothing was to be wasted. Uneaten and unused stock was to be transported at end of day to the Slums from now on, where it would "Bolster the flesh of the faithful."

Every time he finds Troy hunting through his kitchen at 4 am over the years, their chats grow a little longer.

By late COV, Gar's meals delivered to his sanctum are some of the only things God King Calypso still trusts enough to eat.

Tyreen

Xanshi Ur-Vendit is obsessed with the God Queen.

As her Saint of Marketing, he's got both her ear and a position of high authority within the organisation that he covets viciously, and takes great personal offense towards newer Saints he doesn't deem worthy of the title.

His pedigree speaks for itself, the man had quite a reputation on Promethea among the media departments of the high corporations. An expertly trained and cut-throat money maker that was the exact kind of egotistical, nasty piece of work that would be drawn to the God Queen's side.

Has direct tie in's with the esteemed Katagawa family, something he's used to his benefit throughout his career.

He fawns over her, she can do no wrong around him, and he spends as many hours of the day as he can trailing behind her heels like a lapdog, reaffirming her beauty and intelligence and infallibility with every breath he can manage between the underhanded threats he aims towards anyone possibly about to draw her attention away from him.

Hates Troy. Fucking hates him.

Too much of a hole-sucking little coward in his $60k three piece suit to actually do anything about it of course, but he takes plenty of his vitriol out on Troy's departments instead.

Marketing has such massive reach within the internal structure of the COV that he's able to throw his weight around far more than some of her other Saints, and regardless of if they actually like him, they tend to back Xan and his opinions automatically.

A huge amount of the conflict between departments and heads is driven by this imagined competitiveness, that Troy's people, Troy's chosen, must in some way be inferior to Tyreen's.

Xan is her right hand in his own mind, he's her holy knight. If she holds too much misplaced love for her brother to see how pathetic he is in comparison to her radiance, then it's up to Xan to keep Troy's people in place...

In reality? Tyreen isn't even invested in him enough to remember Xanshi's full name.

Seifa

Sei makes friends in low places far easier than higher ones, always has. People at the bottom of the ladder, folks who have struggled? They recognise each other. Doesn't matter where on the scales they currently stand, there's an unspoken nod, a side glance. You see your own - even if who you are has been lucky enough to change over time.

While she's never been in one place long enough to set up a friend network before that was tangible and not based on e-comms and data feeds, she's woven one since settling in the HC without really even noticing it was happening.

One-hand Jim in the King's Call, that high end rave bar near the cathedral grounds. Not so gruff now he's not drowning in debt, few more smiles while he's mixing cocktails.

Cleo in munitions stocks, breathing a bit easier since her son landed that underling role in the Mechanica, more food on the table with less worry.

Feliz and Irgo running deals in the western slum backstreets. Not competing against the HammerClaws for territory anymore since JK "got wind" of the shit they were cutting their gear with and had Vanguard waiting at their quarters for a polite discussion about unspoken laws. What Fe and Iggy are selling isn't exactly high quality but at least it won't rot your brain inside the skull.

Sei will tell you she's a lone wolf. She'll insist she’s a one woman show, runs shit on her own and doesn’t need others.

But watch closely when out with her in the city, check how often she buys a drink, how often it's not on an invisible tab the barstaff nod knowingly about as they hand her glass over with a smirk.

She's never asked to pay.

That should tell you plenty.

Seifa and Tyreen

- Early COV

"Ty, you ever wish you were born a guy?"

Of all the things Tyreen had expected to hear from Sei tonight, that... wasn’t it. She stopped reading the same piece of nonsensical math in the sheet she was holding to gawk at Seifa instead, staring at the other woman’s back as she continued to work on the data records they'd been passing between them all evening.

"No.. god. What, and look like Troy?" she snorted with a wince. "Nooooo thanks" Ty sighed as she leaned back and heard her stiff spine pop, waiting for a response that didn't come. She felt a pang of concern as Sei's shoulders sank a little lower in front of her, deflating.

This wasn’t normal, where was the bitchy retort, or joining in on insulting her brother? She shuffled together the files and stood, walking to her friend's side and sitting slowly next to her in the quiet of the twin's shared office. Sei still hadn’t responded, pretending to be completely absorbed by the notes she stared at. Ty cleared her throat with a cough.

"Uhhh.. why?"

Seifa silently reached to her side to take the offered files from Ty as she sat, pointedly not making eye contact, though the younger woman picked up on the redness in them easily enough.

"Sei, I need to have someone's hands cut off?" 

Ty pouted, hitting her mark as Seifa failed to completely hide a smirk in response.

"I need to have someone thrown into a pit? Huh? C'mon Sei, talk to me. You always tell me I need to talk more about things that me down, right?" she weedled, hands clasped over her heart as she faux whined, earning a quiet laugh from her companion.

"Oh god Tyreen SURE, if you'll shutup." Sei groaned, leaning back in her chair and running hands over her eyes. She was tired. Beyond tired, really. Always said she knew how to not outstay her welcome but had been wondering recently if that had ever been true. Day to day in the cult, managing people she’d never meet and holding the weight of more responsibility than she’d ever wanted was eating at her. Had been for some time. Nights like this helped, shooting shit with Tyreen, bitching, sometimes gently bullying Troy together if he’d decided to grace them with his janky presence, but still.. it was heavy, and Seifa was tired. 

"Ahh.. just the usual shit" she whispered, thumbing through the papers as Tyreen leaned a little closer, as much of a comforting presence as she could muster all things considered. An arm around the shoulder or gentle stroke of hair wasn’t an option. All Ty had was words and honestly, they weren’t exactly her forte.

“It's just like. Sometimes when I'm talking, and it's about something they think I shouldn't know shit about, like how Burgess is spending too much of your budget on expensive, low grade gear-assemblies when if we went off brand I can prove it would be better, they just zone out."

"It's like.. if they thought I had a cock, if I was 6'4, they'd be listening. " she added, eyes burning again.

She groaned, leaning over the table and resting her cheek across her folded arms.

"I got so angry. I'm used to dealing with it, it's always happened, but I just boiled over. This week has been.. long, I guess." she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose as Tyreen watched quietly. "I ate into him in front of like, 6 other people Ty, couple of heads were there. That doesn't help my reputation does it.. that's just making shit worse. I'm sabotaging myself. They think I'm a bitch already without me starting a fight and stirring the pot."

Tyreen shifted in her seat, eyes thoughtful as she rested her chin in her hands, elbow propped on the table edge.

"Nah. "

"Just sounds like they're dumb. I keep telling Troy we need people with actual brains leading this shit Sei, if you're getting ignored cause you have tits? Haha. Wait till they meet me in person. " she grinned, a genuine act peeking through her usual haughty persona as Seifa chuckled.

"I mean my rack is way bigger than yours, you're flat as a fuckin' plank in comparison."

Asks are Open!