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autistic-girl-academic · 4 years ago

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Cookie Run OCs

gdi apparently one of the cookies in cr kingdom is named licorice cookie so screw it i’m biting the bullet and posting my half-baked (ha) oc ideas now even if some of them have already been taken anyway. sorry there’s no art bc i’m terrible with digital stuff and can’t access a scanner to upload my drawings. there are almost certainly going to be more to come later because this game refuses to leave my brain.

Black Licorice Cookie: The powerfully astringent flavor of black licorice certainly isn’t to everyone’s taste - and that’s just the way Black Licorice Cookie likes it! This daredevil of a Cookie loves nothing more than testing her limits, so she’s always on the lookout for something to get her adrenaline pumping. That doesn’t mean she isn’t without her sweet side, however, which comes out most strongly when protecting her precious little sister. Get between them at your own risk!

Red Licorice Cookie (Sibling): Don’t mess with my little sis if you know what’s good for you!

Mustard Cookie (Trust): Nobody else gets me like Mustard Cookie does!

Kiwi Cookie (Friendly): Hey, I’ve got an idea for some cool bike tricks!

Roll Cake Cookie (Friendly): Going for a ride in that road roller and smashing things is such a rush! WHOO!

Initially I had the mental image of her as a Cookie with a web design and a spider pet, but then Truffle Cookie came out, so now I pretty much picture her skill being that she runs a Ninja-Warrior-style obstacle course or something. Maybe her pet could be a black cat instead?

Red Licorice Cookie: Between the fruity fragrance of her signature red hair and her sweet, outgoing personality, it’s no surprise that this Cookie is so popular! Red Licorice Cookie is a champion at gymnastics with plenty of fans, and performing with the ribbon is where she shines the most. She and her older twin sister might be as different as night and day, but their bond is as strong as a thousand strands of licorice twisted together!

Black Licorice Cookie (Sibling): I’ve got the coolest big sis in the world!

Cheerleader Cookie (Trust): Cheerleader Cooke is my BFF!

Yoga Cookie (Friendly): She’s helped me train to be much more flexible for my routines.

Skating Queen Cookie (Admiration): I can’t believe I actually got her autograph!

At first I imagined her as being a sort of epic version of Cheerleader Cookie, performing double dutch with a few friends much like the cheer team. Her pet would be a charm bracelet.

Oatmeal Cookie: Every day at the crack of dawn, this dutiful cowgirl is already hard at work, keeping a watchful eye over her herd with the help of her trusty steed, Raisin. If even a single cow goes missing, Oatmeal Cookie won’t rest until she’s got them home safe and sound. The tricks she can perform with a lasso will certainly knock your socks off! And when the sun starts to set, you can hear the sound of her yodeling from far across the plains.

Peanut Butter Cookie (Family): I’m the luckiest Cookie alive to have such a beautiful gal as you...

Knight Cookie (Friendly): You sure know how to burn the breeze!

Adventurer Cookie (Friendly): Nice hat ya got there, pardner!

Space Doughnut (Tension): Hey, stop spookin’ my herd!

Her skill would probably involve dodging obstacles on her horse while catching some runaway cows, and her pet would be a cowbell.

Peanut Butter Cookie: There’s nothing better for a boost of energy than some delicious, nutritious peanut butter! And forest ranger Peanut Butter Cookie definitely needs that energy, as she spends every day traversing the woods to keep them safe. Whether she’s helping Cookies who have gotten lost find their way home or rescuing woodland critters from danger, you can always depend on Peanut Butter Cookie. She’s especially fond of younger Cookies and enjoys teaching them wilderness survival skills.

Oatmeal Cookie (Family): She and I pack each others’ lunches every day.

Pancake Cookie (Friendly): Be careful climbing trees for those Acorn Jellies, dear!

Cream Puff Cookie (Friendly): I’m sure you’ll get that spell right next time, hun.

Fig Cookie (Trust): They’re always eager for me to tell them stories.

Fire Spirit Cookie (Tension): You keep those flames away from the forest, you hear?

You can probably tell by now that I’ve put like 0 thought into any of my Cookie OC’s skills. Anyway, her pet would be a bear that she helped when it was a cub, who shows up to help her by smashing obstacles.

Coconut Cookie: The Tropical Soda Archipelago has a long history of telling stories through traditional dance. Coconut Cookie comes from a long line of those dancers, and Cookies will flock from every island to watch her perform. Crowned with a garland of bright yellow coconut blossoms, she moves with the utmost rhythm and grace. It’s said that she practices every day so that she can bring peace and good fortune to the islands.

Mango Cookie (Trust): My best friend since we were little - I remember his very first boat!

Ananas Dragon Cookie (Admiration): The Dragon honored my ancestors by praising their dances.

Soda Cookie (Friendly): Going for a ride on the waves is the best, isn’t it?

Squid Ink Cookie (Friendly): Poor little thing, there’s no need to be shy.

My first thought was for her to make a sort of bubble shield out of coconut oil, like Lemonade Cookie but without the magnetic effect (maybe slower energy drain instead?) - I’m still undecided about it though. Her pet would be a bunch of coconuts who make coconut milk potions. Also, I picture her being related to Artichoke Cookie, but he’s not in Ovenbreak...YET? (pls devsis)

Honeycomb Cookie: Out in a charming little cottage atop a hill lives Honeycomb Cookie - and her many hives of Jelly Bees. Years upon years of working with the bees has allowed her to understand them so well, it’s almost as if she talks to them! If you happen to arrive on her doorstep, you can be sure that she’ll treat you to some delicious tea sweetened with honey and send you on your way with a basket of homemade treats.

Herb Cookie (Family): My cute little grandson certainly inherited the family green thumb.

Spinach Cookie (Trust): Oh, how sweet of you to bring me a basket of vegetables, dearie!

Fairy Cookie (Friendly): Ah, you’re so small I mistook you for another bee.

Matcha Cookie (Friendly): A bit of a strange one, but it’s nice to have some laughter over tea.

Not sure what her skill would be, but I think her pet would be a queen Jelly Bee that grows from a baby to an adult as you collect more jellies.

Souffle Cookie: A chef famous for turning simple Jellies into extravagant and delicious meals. Though he can come off as strict and a bit intimidating, he truly does care about creating good food for every Cookie who comes to his restaurant. Souffle Cookie is quite the perfectionist, so if a recipe doesn’t come out as planned, he tends to sulk so badly that even his fluffy chef’s hat deflates! But it never lasts long before he throws himself back into his work with renewed passion.

Sparkling Cookie (Trust): My cooking and your juice is the ultimate combination!

Sandwich Cookie (Admiration): To create such simple but delicious meals...C’est magnifique!

Mala Sauce Cookie (Friendly): Just watch, I’ll create a meal more than spicy enough to satisfy you!

Dr. Wasabi Cookie (Tension): I am NEVER using your syrup as a ‘secret ingredient’ EVER again!

Again, not sure what his skill would be, but maybe his pet could be a spoon. Sous-chef Spoon?

Rainbow Sugar Cookie: Sugar Cookie was always painfully shy and never considered herself all that important. However, everything changed when she met Rainbow Puff, a creature who begged for her help in protecting the happiness of Cookies everywhere from the wicked Dark Puffs. Bestowed with a magical wand, she becomes Rainbow Sugar Cookie, chasing away darkness with prisms of joyous light! RAINBOW...BEAM!

Pink Choco Cookie (Trust): The two of us would make a perfect team!

Wind Archer Cookie (Admiration): Wow...what an amazing warrior...

Sandwich Cookie (Friendly): She makes the best toast as a snack on the way to school!

Dark Enchantress Cookie (Rival): I won’t let a villain like you make other Cookies suffer!

Pomegranate Cookie (Tension): Why are you helping the Darkness?

Originally her name was Glitter Cookie, but then Shining Glitter Cookie got announced. In any case, she’d pretty much be an epic version of Wind Archer Cookie, fighting a big ‘boss’ monster once enough little ones were defeated with her magic.

Jack-o-Lantern Cookie: Trick or treat! Wait, is it Halloween already? The answer doesn’t really matter to this young Cookie, who loves trick-or-treating so much that they never take their costume off! If you don’t have Jellies to give, then get ready for a mischievous trick! But if there’s one thing they love more than getting treats, it’s sharing them with friends, so don’t be shy and join in the fun!

Candy Corn Cookie (Trust): My bestest trick-or-treating buddy!

Devil Cookie (Admiration): WOW! What a great costume!

Apple Cookie (Friendly): Here, candy apples!

Onion Cookie (Friendly): Trick o- um, please don’t cry...

Vampire Cookie (Tension): Hey, don’t fall asleep when I’m trying to trick you!

I thought I was in the clear with this OC when we got Truffle Cookie for Halloween...but then Pumpkin Cookie was an NPC later, lol. At least the name was an easy change. Their skill would basically be like a slower version of Chestnut’s, where you go up to houses and trick-or-treat.

Candy Corn Cookie: This Cookie used to be a scarecrow who stood in the middle of a big field of candy corn. However, they wanted to travel the world, so one night they wished upon a star...and miraculously, their wish was granted! Bursting with curiosity, Candy Corn Cookie is full of questions about everything they see. They still have a habit of chasing birds wherever they go, though.

Jack-o-Lantern Cookie (Trust): This ‘trick-or-treat’ thing is really fun!

Alchemist Cookie (Admiration): Wow, this Cookie knows lots of things!

Blueberry Pie Cookie (Friendly): Ooh, what’s in all these ‘book’ things?

Mocha Ray Cookie (Friendly): Cookies can really live under the sea? WOW!

Carrot Cookie (Tension): Aw, I don’t wanna go back to the farm yet!

Candy corn apparently used to be called ‘chicken feed’, so their pet would probably be a chicken. Again, not sure about the skill.

#cookie run #cookie run oc #cookie run ocs

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border-spam · 5 years ago

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Twins Prompt 8: Wolf in sheep’s clothing

Note - I am SUSTAINED by comments. If you like any of these prompts, or want to see more of a specific one, hit up the replies. That’s my motivational juice right there

You could feel Tyreen Calypso in the air before you saw or heard her, storming down the corridor towards the COV media department at 3AM, vile mood warping the atmosphere around her as she marched.

She rolled her eyes at the few acolytes up at this time as they scurried out of her way and down dimly lit side aisles as soon as they caught sight of her, wide eyed and terrified of finding out why exactly she was so pissed.

Another terrible night’s sleep, another handful of wasted hours sitting in the decadence of her personal ship, massive solid gold bed surrounded on all sides by statues and stained glass of her own image. Alone. Completely alone. Like always.

Tyreen could deal with it, she’d dealt with it her entire life so far, it was the norm, and it’s not like she needed the affection anyway right? She had literally billions of people in love with her. There was no one else in the universe as wanted as God Queen Calypso, she reminded herself, tired eyes squinting past the makeup that was smeared under them as her focus stayed unmoving on the door she rapidly approached.

The red “EDITING” sign above it flashed on, off, on off, confirming her target was inside.

There wasn’t a huge amount Tyreen found worked when this mood hit. She could sit and brood on her own, face the reality of her crippling loneliness and deal with some extremely uncomfortable truths, OR she could go find her twin. Troy always helped, one way or another.

Crying her eyes out in his tight hug? That helped.

Taking out her frustration and anger on the only other person in the galaxy who mattered? That.. helped too.

She stopped at the door and quickly ran her hands through her messy bed-hair, straightening up her mantle and hastily dressed belts. Deep breath in, deep breath out, then she rolled her shoulders, stood tall and regal, opened the door with a press of the wall mounted button, and stepped confidently into the dark room.

…. to find Troy asleep instead of working.

He was out cold, quietly snoring into the crook of his flesh arm as he hunched over the massive desk he usually edited from, his array of flickering screens laid out above and around him lighting his shape in the dark.

The small editing team who worked directly with the God King paused in silence at their desks as she entered, eyes flicking nervously from each other, to their sleeping lord, to the clearly enraged Queen standing in the doorway.

He was asleep. He was meant to be editing that last stream for release in the morning. She felt her jaw tighten as she stomped towards him, seething. He was asleep while she was having such a shitty night and needed his help, the lazy, good for nothing asshole.

She raised a leg and stomped violently at the side of his chair with a studded boot, jolting him awake with a shock as he lurched to the side and fumbled with the headphones that had slipped across an eye, tripping a little over the chair legs as he clambered to his full height and towered over his furious twin.

“Ty- Tyreen.. what are you doing here?” he muttered, side eyeing his team who were doing their best to not make eye contact, typing furiously now in an attempt to not be paying attention to what was about to be a total scene.

She felt her anger begin to bubble over. He looked embarrassed, he looked like he didn’t want this to happen in front of his team, and somehow that made it all the better to do it, made it feel so much better to let her mouth start running.

“Ohhh just checking up on you, Holy Father. How’s the editing coming along? Very important release due tomorrow morning riiight?” She mocked, picking at her nails like this was the most mundane thing in the world, as her twin fidgeted awkwardly in front of her.

“Interesting to see you take your duties this seriously, while I work my ass off creating the content for you to butcher. Or not even bother to work on at all it seems?” she singsonged loudly at him, patronising grin widening as she caught the concerned glance from one of his editors from the corner of her eye.

His expression darkened, blush fading to pale skin, and she knew this was a bad idea now. She knew she should stop… but it felt too good to see him squirm like this, be berated and vulnerable in front of the others. She had had a terrible night and he’d been laying here enjoying himself, he deserved to be embarrassed by her like this. He deserved it.

“..Ty, can we not do this here. I’m sorry, I was exhausted, I couldn’t keep awa-”

“HAH!”

She barked, interrupting his quiet, calm tone.

“Allllways sorry Troy. Not good enough, get this shit done.” She hissed, pointing a finger into the solid line of his sternum, ignoring the ice in his eyes as she squinted up into them, ignoring the tight line of his mouth. His slow, controlled breathing.

“This was meant to be uploaded and queued an hour ago and you’ve fucked it up as usual haven’t you. Do I have to do everything little brother??” She shrieked up into his face, slamming her hand down on his desk and causing his crew to jump in their seats.

“Fucking pathetic, you have one job Troy. One, and you can’t even do it. You’re a joke.” She finished with a scowl. Spinning on her heel with a self satisfied smirk, Tyreen turned and began to strut out of the room, completely aware of the other God’s cold blue eyes burning into her back, knowing that she had gone too far, that she had pushed that way past where she should have in front of staff, but it had helped. It had helped her so much, and her Twin’s embarrassment felt more than worth it.

Troy stood in silence, still staring at the door she had left through, eyes narrowed in controlled rage. His editing team continued to work, refusing to acknowledge that their God had just been shamed in front of them, brought low and mocked by his sister.

They’d seen this happen before, saw what had happened after. A newer member of the team, some cocky Promethean kid, had laughed under his breath when Tyreen was done and had left Troy glaring at his monitors in silence.

Troy had turned, locked eyes with the kid, beckoned him over with a curl of a long finger, and crushed every bone in both of the little shit’s hands in the grip of his prosthetic fist. They’d never seen that idiot again, but they knew for all his snapping fury, God King Troy was not cruel like his sister. He’d not take his rage out on them as long as they didn’t prompt him to, and a shaking sigh of relief echoed through the room as he stalked towards the doorway like a predatory animal and left to track after his sister.

As Tyreen reached her private Sanctum and waited for the scanner to grant her entry, the burning anger and sadness in her stomach slowly faded, only to be replaced with gnawing worry as she entered.

It.. wasn’t the first time this had happened. He’d warned her before, he’d warned her very seriously to not make a scene in front of followers again, that it damaged the reputation he carefully cultivated for them..

And sure enough, she heard the door open behind her, and the heavy footfalls of his boots as he entered.

“Hey, Tyreen.”

She turned to face him, clearing her expression of guilt and facing her twin with an air of relaxation, only to second guess how this was about to go down as she took him in.

He stood calmly, massive frame held loose, flesh palm held gently in the cup of his mechanical fist, looking down his nose at his much smaller sister.

“..Troy.” She greeted. Voice betraying her in a nervous crack.

“.. Look I’m so-”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” he whispered, cutting her off with only the barest of effort, controlled tone emphasising each word.

Completely in control of what was about to happen, exactly like she knew he would be. He was so much better at this than she was.

She dropped her eyes to his boots and waited for him to continue. God she shouldn’t have gone as far as she had.

“Tell me Ty-die, what’s your business strat for this upcoming financial quarter?”

She winced. Here we go. He was always better with words, ever since they were kids. Never needed to raise a hand to you to flay you to the bone.

Could do that effortlessly with a silver tongue and gold capped fangs.

“Who’ve you got in line for the next group of sponsorship deals? Give me the rundown of the numbers. What profit margins are you expecting, what losses, sis?” He piqued, leaning his weight to one hip, tilting his head to glare down at her.

“Troy.. look, point made, I’m sorry I shouldn’t ha-”

“Excuse me, did I say I was FINISHED?“ He bellowed, causing her to jump as he took another step towards her, slowly leaning down to lower that vicious mouth closer to her ear.

“Hows that legal dispute over the DeLeon copyright claim goin? That one I’ve been spearheading for 7 years now under your nose, you know, that one? Oh..you don’t? Hmmm…”

Slowly beginning to circle her, still hissing questions she could barely even understand the terminology of at her.

“Hows our growth targeting going, God Queen? What you got for the shareholders this month end? What you got planned for that? How’s the SnV-merger going, Tyreen?“

She shook her head and raised a hand to her temple, rubbing it delicately as she sighed. “I don’t.. know, Troy, I’m sorry! I get it, I get it, I shouldn’t have done that in front of your team.”

He stopped at her left, sneering down at her in disgust.

“No, you shouldn’t have. But you love acting big around me don’t you Ty, love making it seem like you’re in charge when you’re feeling down and want to shit on me for a while, huh.”

He was right. It had made her feel so much better for a short while, but she should have just come to him privately. She should have put her arms around his waist and cried, and he would have been there for her, but she had lashed out instead, and he was right to be pissed now.

“Maybe I’ll do your job for a while and take a break from mine, hmm? Maybe I’ll go on camera and squeeze my lil tits together and drone braindead bullshit at morons while you run the entire fucking cult, huh? Would you like that Ty?”

“… Would you like everyone to see how fucking stupid the God Queen is when you don’t have me playing you like a puppet and getting none of the credit?”

She just stayed silent now, waiting for him to be done, no real way to defend herself against his knife blade truths, watching him turn and begin to stalk slowly towards her doorway before pausing at it, resting his monstrous arm on the frame and looking over his shoulder to consider his defeated sister.

“You’d do well to remember who made you Tyreen. Who runs this entire shit-show so you can play at being a God. I don’t get anything out of this bullshit.. lie.. bar easy access to a warm hole when I want a good fuck. Sorry you don’t have that option.. I really am…”

She felt her stomach cramp as he turned to open the door and step through it.

“.. Just remember who I’m exhausting myself for next time you find me asleep.”

The door shut behind him.

#troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my hcs #my writing #borderlands 3 #borderlands #bl3

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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years ago

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Agents of Shield- The Asset

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: An old man is kidnapped, Skye struggles with her training, Grant, Skye, and Coulson go in head-first, Violet is worried about everything

Warnings: cursing, fighting, an explosion, uh maybe some blood?

Word Count: 8786

“Is she coming?” I held the punching bag steady for Grant, trying to put equal weight on both my legs.

“She’s supposed to be. Hey, ease up on your leg if you need to.” He pointed, stopping his punches, noticing how I shifted from one leg to the other.

“It’s fine.” I shook my head.

“No, it is not. Listen to him.” Fitz scolded from the lab.

“Shut up, Leo.”

“I’m sorry, love, but the boys are right. Don’t put too much stress on it, or you’ll be back to square one with fingers through your stitches.” Jemma gave me a kind smile, hinting to a few nights ago when our bus had been attacked.

“Haha.” Grant taunted, sticking his tongue out.

I took a jab at him, only for him to step to the side and catch me in a headlock. He laughed as I shook loose, eyes squinted.

“That was uncalled for.” I stuck my nose up in the air, turning my head to the side and ignoring him.

He cleared his throat and I looked to see Skye coming down the steps. Grant put his serious face on and went back to punching the bag.

“You know you’re late.” He eyed her.

“I’m tired from this morning’s workout. I thought I was joining S.H.I.E.L.D., not 24 hour fitness.” She sighed, giving him her hands so he could check over her wrappings.

“It’s called relative strength training. Starting with the basics. And next time, you do fifteen push-ups for every minute you’re late.” He readjusted one.

“Fine, Mr. Fun Machine. Better than pull ups. I don’t ever wanna do another pull up again.” She stated.

“You find yourself hanging off the edge of a building twenty stories up, you’re gonna wanna do at least one.” He gave her a face before turning to instruct her.

I turned to watch Fitz-Simmons in the lab, working on some sort of laser or whatever it was. Fitz caught me staring and winked at me with a goofy smile before going back to his work.

“I’m sure Fitz-Simmon’s supervising officer didn’t make them do this muscle stuff.” She hit the bag with both hands.

“You said you wanted to be a field agent, like Coulson.” Grant shrugged. “But, if you’d like to switch disciplines…” He nodded toward Fitz-Simmons, still hard at work in the lab, then looked at me.

Is she being serious?

I gave her a once-over and smiled at Grant.

Let me take care of it.

“Vi, what did your SO make you do when you were in training for psych?” Grant looked at me with eyebrows raised and a smile on his face.

“Psychoanalytics, fill-ins for the DSM-5, brain parts, ethics… I can keep going. Hey Simmons. What did your SO give you guys for morning drills?” I called out to her from my spot against the wall.

“Oh! Atomistic attribute drills. Yeah, we’d name the mechanical, chemical, thermal-” She spouted.

Skye rolled her eyes at me and threw a lazy punch.

“The electrical properties of materials.” Fitz finished.

“Okay, okay, they made your point.”

“There will come a moment where you have to commit to this or bail.” Grant moved around the bag to hold it for her. “Every field agent has a defining moment. Ask Coulson. When you have to make the hard call to either dedicate yourself to this or to curl up in a ball and run.”

“How can you run if you’re curled up in a ball?” Skye gestured before going back to throwing punches.

“It’s my job as your SO to make sure you don’t die before then. Come on.” He fixed her hands and patted the bag again.

“So what was yours, Agent Ward?” She asked him.

“Ten minutes.” He dodged the question.

“Your defining moment?”

He ignored her.

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know. I could get Coulson to give you some of that truth serum. You could spill your little heart to me all over again.” She smiled.

“You mean my level one overshare that miraculously got you to cooperate? I hate to tell you this, rookie, but we don’t have a truth serum.”

“Changing course, briefing in three. Shield 6-1-6 with new orders, set for Colorado air field north.” May came over the comms.

“Ah, looks like we’re on the move.” Fitz pulled his lab coat off and hung it in the corner before coming to my side and taking my hand, leading the way up the stairs.

We settled on the couches in the main room, sprawled out as Coulson came through the hallway. Fitz pulled me into his side and I swung my leg over his, comfortable in his grip.

“A few minutes ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport was attacked while carrying a priority red protected asset off route 76 near Sterling.”

“Priority red?” Jemma asked, and Grant let out a low whistle as he sat on the armchair next to Fitz and I.

“The asset was Canadian physicist Dr. Franklin Hall, known for his work-”

“Oh no! Not Frank!” Jemma gasped.

Fitz leaned forward, a sad expression on his face, “Dr. Hall? He was our chemical kinetics advisor our second year.”

“Yeah, he’s so enthusiastic about science, we just adored him!” Jemma sighed. “We can rescue him, can’t we?”

“He’s one of ours. We’re gonna try.” Coulson nodded.

“And the attackers?” Grant asked.

“Invisible.” Coulson walked off.

“Wait. Invisible? Cool!” Skye laughed, and Grant shot her a look. “But terrible.” She cleared her throat.

***

“Dr. Hall was an asset?” Skye questioned as we walked down the road, squinting in the dark.

“One of a few select scientists S.H.I.E.L.D. has been protecting, people our enemies would love to get their hands on. We keep them hidden, we keep them on the move.” Coulson explained.

“Which is why Fitz and I were so lucky to have him.” Jemma spoke from the other end of the line, next to Fitz.

May, in the middle, stayed silent as usual. Grant and I exchanged a few looks, but he was soon focused on observing the street we were walking along for any potential threats.

“We don’t have him anymore.” Coulson grunted out.

“And what does priority red mean?” Skye asked again.

“It means security should have been…” he trailed off as we saw an SUV flipped over onto the side of the road. “Heavy.”

A fox scurried out from the bushes and to the road. Fitz jumped and Grant’s hand flew to his gun. I looked over to see the fox with blood stains on its white snout. I looked up to Grant again. His grimace matched mine.

Well, that’s just wonderful.

***

“It was pretty damn scary, and I don’t spook easily, boss.” Agent Mack was the only one left alive, and even he was pretty banged up.

May had gone with him to ask questions while Fitz-Simmons did their usual rounds of inspection with Skye tagging along. Grant was surveying lord knows what and I stood off to May’s side, picking up cues from Agent Mack that he didn’t even realize he was giving off.

“Nothing in the air from above?” May asked.

“Nothing over our shoulder.” He shook his head, “But what’s scary is they knew our route. They were waiting for us.”

“Are you saying they were working with somebody inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?” I took a step closer to the van he was sitting in.

“Sorry to say.” He shrugged. “It had to be.”

“Fitz, what am I seeing here?” Jemma shouted, causing the turning of heads.

“Well, I’m not wearing the full-spectrum goggles I designed, so no clue.” He chuckled, walking over to her with his tablet in his hands.

Coulson gave me a nod of his head and I followed them, rolling my eyes with a smile at Fitz’s nerd speak.

“Let me have a look. Come on.” He held his hand out for the goggles.

“Whoa, whoa, wait! Wait, no! Don’t move.” She ordered, holding her hands out to stop him.

Skye stopped immediately, but Fitz, as always, was clumsy and almost took another step forward. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him backward.

“Wait a second.” Jemma whispered, kneeling to throw a fistful of dirt and gravel into the air.

It swirled, like a mini tornado.

“What the hell?” Skye took a step back.

“I think the electro-static field scanner activated some… thing.” She smiled.

A rock flew loose from the air pattern, flinging itself at us. I felt a hand on my head and I was forced to go down faster than I could duck myself. Fitz let out a yelp and Grant shoved me half behind him, staring at the thing with squinted eyes.

“Okay, can we deactivate it?” Coulson asked. “Now?”

She hit a few buttons on her tablet, and the swirl only seemed to gain an angry conscious, throwing more things at us. I ducked behind my brother, pulling Skye down with me. Fitz let out a second yelp before barking something about density at Jemma.

“I tried, Fitz!” She shouted, handing him the control.

I pushed out from behind my brother and tugged Fitz away from the swirl as he fumbled with the remote. I felt a thunk against my head and winced.

“Fitz!” May raised her voice.

He hit another two buttons before the remote shorted out and the swirling pieces dropped to the floor. Jemma bent down to pick up a twisted looking piece of metal and glass with a pair of tweezers, dropping it in Coulson’s outstretched hand.

“That did all this.”

“What is that?” Skye asked.

Coulson stared at it, rolling it in his hand. “Something big.”

***

We stood in a ring around the lab table, with the exception of Grant, who had told me what he was off to do, but I hadn’t listened. Fitz had the object in some sort of a microscope, with lit up goggles on his head.

“Either someone cracked our comm system, or Dr. Hall’s movements leaked from inside S.H.I.E.L.D..” Coulson was quiet.

“You really think we have a mole?” May asked him.

Jemma and I stood at the side of the table, watching as Fitz worked.

“I think you should go through the communication logs, rule it out.” He said with his hands crossed neatly. “We’ll work the tractor tread that we found on the scene.”

“I can do that.” Skye popped up. “Instead of pull-ups. I can upload an image of the tread pattern, check to see if there’s any sort of-”

“Already done.” Grant popped back in.

Right, he had gone to do that.

“Matched it to a 2010 model. Found a list of purchases within a 500-mile radius, narrowed it down to those with priors, financial troubles, or propensity for risk-taking.” He set it up to show on the computer.

“Three suspects.” He pointed as the pictures appeared.

“Who may have sold their construction equipment to the kidnappers.” Coulson’s arms were now crossed. “We’ll ask.”

Grant nodded and pulled the images off the screen. He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and I followed him out of the lab.

“You feeling any better? How’s your leg?” He looked down, slowing his step.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to slow down for me.” I scoffed, secretly grateful that he hadn’t forced me to trot up the stairs.

“I know. There’s a lot of things I don’t have to do.” He sat down at the bar. “So. Give me a runthrough. Why would someone kidnap a physicist?”

I hoisted myself to sit on the counter and grinned. “Maybe their kid needed tutoring?”

Grant rolled his eyes and pushed at my knee with his foot, essentially kicking me. “I don’t remember you being this joke-y before.”

I laughed. “I use humor to mask my emotions now. Ya know, like an adult.”

“Okay, okay. But for real. Why would someone kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. protected physicist? What good does a physicist even do?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Physics is actually pretty cool, you people just don’t think it is. Physics covers a lot. My best guess within reason? Some evil rich person has a half-hacked plan to take over the world but needs a professional to help him seal the deal.” I shrugged.

Grant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate the fact that that sounds like a valid, logical, reason.”

I laughed. “Well, we do work for S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Yeah, okay. But I’ll bet you fifty dollars it’s some weird organization and not someone rich.” Grant snorted.

“You sure you wanna bet on that?” I grinned again.

***

“I just wanna know who paid you.” Coulson asked calmly as Grant and I crept around Lola, crouched.

The man paused, then yanked a gun out. “Paid me enough not to answer questions like that.” He aimed at Coulson.

Grant gave me a glance over my shoulder before moving, pulling the gun from the man’s hand and him along with it. I ran to grab the horse by the reigns, trying to calm it. The man landed on his back with a grunt, hands up as Grant pointed the gun at his head.

“Feels like the old west.” He turned to me with a faint smile as Coulson stepped closer to speak to the man again.

“They gave me money for my equipment, that’s all. I never saw a face. I never heard a name.” He had his hands up, eyes darting between Coulson and Grant.

“And how did you receive this money? They write you a check?”

The man sighed and pointed to the side pouch on the horse’s saddle. Grant looked at me and jerked his head in that direction. I patted the horse’s neck before moving over to open the bag, which was filled with gold bars.

“Paid you in gold?” Coulson picked a bar up.

I looked at Grant. “Now it really feels like the old west.”

***

“It looks like this because it’s a doré bar. It means it was made in a mine rather than a refinery. It’s only about 92% pure, the cowboy got cheated a bit.” Jemma explained.

“Can you determine a mine based off the impurities?” Coulson asked.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve done that already.” Fitz went to the computer. “It’s from the dacey mine in Tanzania, which is owned by-”

“Quinn Worldwide.” I came to his side as I cut him off, glancing at Coulson.

“I’m sure you’ve studied the CEO in your chemical engineering classes or saw him on the cover of Forbes. Ian Quinn.” Coulson sighed and walked out of the lab, up to the steps.

“He’s a sociopath.” I scoffed.

“I mean…” Jemma tried to put her positive twist on it, but to no avail.

“Who is?” Grant came into the lab, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Ian Quinn.” I said as Fitz pulled up a picture and turned his monitor so Grant could see. “Spoiled, bratty, millionaire evil genius.” I quirked an eyebrow.

Grant sighed deeply and pulled out his wallet, handing me two twenties and a ten. I pocketed them with a smile, giving him a half-hug as a thanks before going upstairs with Coulson.

***

“Darlin’, come downstairs. I’ve got a feeling you might wanna hear this.” Fitz came over the comms in our room and I rolled over in the bed, dropping my book onto my nightstand as I hit the button to answer.

“Are you sure I’m gonna wanna hear about it? I’m reading.”

“Well…” He paused and I could hear him clear his throat. “It’s a scientific breakthrough, darlin’.”

He knew he had me then. Any breakthrough was amazing, whether it was scientific or psychological or whatever else. I pulled one a pair of fuzzy socks and all but bolted down the stairs to the lab.

“Jeez, what’s the rush?” Skye asked, coming down the steps after me.

“Scientific breakthrough, come on.” I grabbed her hand and tugged.

“What is it, you guys?” I popped up to sit on the counter in front of the holotable, resting my chin on Fitz’s shoulder.

“Gravitonium.” He put his hands on his hips.

“What?” Skye asked, unimpressed.

“Holy shit.” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around one of his and leaning forward.

“It’s an extremely rare high-atomic numbered element.” He explained.

“It powers the device.” Jemma continued. “It’s so extremely rare that most people didn’t believe it existed, much less the theory that an isolated positive charge-”

“Yeah, would turn the flow from isotropic-” Fitz continued.

“Guys.” Skye interrupted them. “High school dropout here.”

Fitz looked at me, his hand frozen and his face confused. He didn’t know how to put many things into simple terms. I patted his back and tried to give him a guideline.

“How does the device work again?”

“Well, gravitonium distorts gravity fields within itself, causing an undulating, amorphous shape.” Jemma tried to explain, as Fitz was still stuck.

“Which causes these, um…” He pointed, trying to find an easy word. “Wiggly bits here! But when an electric current is applied,” he motioned with his fingers and I felt a goofy smile grow on my face. “The gravitonium solidifies. And those gravity fields erupt,” he continued to mime it and I held back my laughs. “Randomly changing the rules of gravity around it.”

Skye looked at me and I felt myself turn pink, trying again not to burst out laughing. Fitz gave my leg a squeeze before running over to the other side of the lab, now completely invested in his explanation.

“Well, so now you can imagine what would happen to a big rig at 100 kilometers per hour.” He rushed to sit at his computer, and then froze up a bit. “Or, well, you could just remember, ‘cause we saw it already, didn’t we?”

I walked over as he picked at his lips and then bit his nails as Jemma began to speak. I gently pulled his hand away from his mouth, linking his fingers through mine. He smiled at me softly and pulled our hands back to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

“Come here.” He tugged me up to sit on his thighs with my side to his chest as he brought his arms around my middle and started to type.

I looked over to Skye, who winked at me.

“Guess which genius published every theory about gravitonium and possible applications years ago?” Jemma asked.

“Dr. Franklin Hall.” Skye answered.

“Correct.” Fitz-Simmons nodded.

“And Dr. Hall attended the University of Cambridge at the same time as Ian Quinn.” I looked at the files Fitz had pulled up on the computer.

“Violet, I think you might be off on this. Quinn’s a notoriously good guy.” Skye shook her head. “His charity endowment’s something like eight billion dollars.”

“Yeah, with money made from leeching the Earth of its resources. Looks like he’s dug up another.” Jemma scoffed.

“He’s textbook, Skye. Tries to give himself a good public image when in reality, dude’s only watching his own back.” I called without turning back to her.

“That’s my girl.” Fitz mumbled under his breath, still focused on the screen as one hand pulled mine up and he kissed it again.

***

“The man’s a prisoner, and it’s up to us to get him out!” Coulson was growing more frustrated by the minute.

“We’ve checked the specs. There’s no way into Quinn’s compound without a large S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force, or a man inside. He’s got neodymium laser fencing surrounding the property.” Grant scoffed.

“They’ll never allow a strike force into Malta.” I shook my head. “Plus, this weekend, Quinn Worldwide’s got its annual shareholders gathering. We’d risk global outrage. But…” I trailed off, looking to Grant.

Not if we go it by ourselves.

He sighed, but nobody else seemed to understand the nonverbality. Coulson picked up the slack for them.

“If we go in alone, S.H.I.E.L.D. can disavow us, claim ignorance.”

“Without a man inside, it’s impossible, unless you’re immune to pulse laser emissions.” May leaned against the table.

Fitz sighed from next to me and Jemma held her hands against her neck, her nervous tic. Fitz stood straight, and I already knew what was coming, but the amusement it would provide outweighed my desire to stop him in his tracks.

“If we had a monkey, we could get in.”

“Ah, Fitz!” Jemma seemed annoyed.

“If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence’s power source with his adorable little hands.” Fitz put his hands up.

I bit back a smile as Grant looked at me with a face. I grabbed Fitz’s arm and pulled him tight against my side, smiling up at him.

“Now’s not the time, angel face.” I whispered.

“I could go in.” Skye had walked in at some point, and was now leaning nonchalantly against the wall, phone in hand.

“Drop me in the hills outside of Valletta. I’ll spend a few weeks establishing a cover, gathering intel-”

“We don’t have the time, Grant.” I cut him off, shaking my head.

“And to restate, any agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. caught on Maltese soil can be shot to death with bullets- legally.” Jemma gestured.

“Not me.” Skye spoke again. “I could go in.” She now took a step forward.

“Skye, this is serious.” Grant brushed her off.

“No.” I stopped him. “She’s right. She’s not an agent.” I looked to Coulson, who seemed to agree.

“This isn’t something the Rising Tide can hack, Skye.” Grant said with a layer of disgust in his tone.

“Did you hear the deadly lasers part?” Fitz looked from her to me, hands on his head. “Without a brave monkey-” I clapped a hand over his mouth and looked to Skye, a signal for her to explain.

“You said you could go in with a man inside.” She shrugged.

“And you wanna be that man?” May’s eyebrows were raised.

“Fitz-Simmons loved the guy, and he needs help. They could be torturing him. Or worse, making him do strength-training.” She glared at Grant.

“She’s a hacker, she can easily apply that to playing a role.” I rolled my eyes at him, sensing his upcoming protests.

“But she doesn’t have the background or clearance or experience with any of this.” He turned away from me and walked toward her, growing increasingly agitated.

“I know.” She put her phone up. “But I’ve got an invitation. Well, technically, it’s an evite.” She looked to me with a smile.

I didn’t bother to hold back my grin. She was something, that was for sure. I trusted she could do it, and if anything went wrong, Grant and I would figure out a way to pull her out if necessary. Grant looked at me with a sigh.

This is a bad idea.

I shrugged.

It’s the only one we have.

And although I wouldn’t admit it, I much preferred this to him going undercover.

***

“Grant!” I caught him coming out of Coulson’s office, fuming.

He turned to me. “It’s a bad idea. Actually, no” he began to gesture wildly, “it’s not just a bad idea, it’s the worst idea! She’s gonna get herself killed! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! And then what? We’re back at square one with one of our people down?”

“Hey.” I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his arm down. “First of all, breathe. It’s gonna be fine. And secondly, we have a few days. You’re her SO.”

“Again. First on paper, but you’re on there too.”

I ignored him. “Keep training her. Get her ready physically, I’ll worry about getting her mind in the right state. We’ve tag-teamed before, let’s just do it again.” I looked up, eyebrows raised in the way Jemma always said was my ‘mom face’.

“Yeah, we’ve tag-teamed against a group of rebels shooting at us. Are you sure we can tag-team her?” He crossed his arms across his chest.

I threw my head back with an exaggerated groan and rolled my eyes. “Grant. We’ve tag-teamed Christian before. I think we can handle a hacker.”

I knew mentioning our older brother would be a risk, and I watched as his face changed and he became a few shades lighter. But it worked, because he was soon nodding and meeting my eyes.

“Let’s do it. I’ll head downstairs to do muscle memories. Come with, sit and watch. Let your little psych brain work some stuff out.” He held his hand out for mine and I stared for a second.

I couldn’t remember the last time Grant had held my hand. I knew that we always did when we were younger, because our family spent all our time out of the house and on trips, and Grant was the only one who had seemed to care that I didn’t get split up.

“Hey.” He whispered, leaning down to meet my eyes. “You’re okay.” He nodded, flexing his fingers.

I snapped out of it with a nod, slipping my hand into his and letting him lead the way down to the garage.

***

“Now, again, slowly, what’s first?” Grant held the unloaded gun level with Skye’s chest as they went over the maneuver once more.

She gripped his wrist and pushed it up, twirling under his arm and pressing herself into his chest, the gun still in his hand but under her control.

“And then?” Grant followed up.

She paused and I shifted on the metal steps, trying to find some sense of comfort. This had been going on for an hour, and I was surprised that Grant hadn’t snapped by now. My neck ached, my hips were burning, and my leg was throbbing. This was the last day we had to train her. Mentally, she was ready. But that was worth nothing if she couldn’t evade getting shot.

“Then things are moving too quickly. I’m a proper Southern girl-”

I watched Grant throw his head back with an eye roll that looked like it hurt as she pulled on an accent.

“You’ll make me untidy.”

“Twist the thumb, palm the barrel.” He moved his hands over hers to repeat the motions, a bit harshly.

“Ow.” She winced, taking her hand back and shaking it.

“You’re gonna die and leave us hanging out to dry, you know that?” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “You’re going in with no self-defense skills-”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She cut him off, crossing her arms.

“That isn’t enough. You need muscle memory, fundamentals, the tools to turn yourself-”

“Into a whole bag of tools?” She cut him off.

“Okay Skye, how did you learn computer science if you didn’t fully commit to it?” I asked, trying to find a better approach on teaching her.

“C.S. comes naturally to me. I’m sorry I’m not naturally whatever he is.” She pointed at Grant with a grunt.

He looked at me, neck snapping like it was broken.

What the fucking hell?

I returned the look, trying to ease his tension.

It’s okay. Calm down, and explain it. Don’t lose your head.

The air tensed, and I watched Grant’s fist curl. One mention of our childhood was enough to last a few months. Twice in one week was a major overload.

“You think this came naturally?” He stood straighter, shoulders squared as he took a predatory step toward her. “I had a brother who beat the crap out of me- and Violet. For nothing, for eating a piece of his birthday cake. I had to learn to protect us. The way I am trying to protect you. That was my moment. You asked.” He was towering over her now, and I could feel what he was feeling.

Anger, contempt, sadness, fear, every other negative emotion that you could possibly name. I watched as Skye slouched a little, looking from him to me and then at the floor.

“Sorry.” She looked up again. “Didn’t mean to push. But… I did manage to take this.” She pulled the gun up with a smile.

Grant took it back, his emotions gone and the heartless soldier back at play. “Getting the gun is one thing. Pulling the trigger- that is another.” He put the gun back to her chest. “Now, again, slowly, what’s first?”

***

“Skye will walk in the front door.” Coulson paced, trying to keep awake.

It was six in the morning, and none of us had gotten nearly enough sleep. I was leaning back against Fitz, who had his arm around me as he breathed deeply. May and Jemma seemed wide-awake, and Grant was taking a mental nap in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“The only external access point to Quinn’s underground facility is from a beach cove. A two-man extraction team could slip in there, but it’s not easy. Fitz-Simmons.” He handed it over to them and Fitz begrudgingly kissed my cheek before leaving my side and joining Jemma at the screen.

“The perimeter is surrounded by a twenty foot high neodymium laser grid. Touch it, and you’re toast.” He looked at me as he spoke, as if he were also struggling to stay awake.

“Dead toast. The only way to disable the grid is to crack the system and trigger a reboot. This would give the team three seconds to cross. Of course, Quinn’s too smart to allow any wireless access on his property.” Coulson walked through it.

“That’s where I come in.” Skye nodded.

“Yes.” Jemma opened the black case on the table.

I couldn’t see with everyone standing around it, but Fitz grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him, squeezing my shoulders after I padded over.

“Working compact- holds up under X-ray.”

“Desert rose. To match your complexion.” Fitz pointed at the small mirror. “But oh, what’s this?” He picked it up, slinging his arms over my shoulders so I wouldn’t have to switch spots again. “A readout, okay? Turns green if you’re in close enough proximity to a computer to gain wireless access.”

“When it does, you just drop this nearby and walk out. We’ll do the rest. Easy as pie.” Jemma smiled as Fitz closed the mirror.

“Or it will be. If you stick to the plan.” Grant spoke for the first time since we had gathered in the conference room to review the plan.

“Got it. Plan, green, drop, walk… pie.” Skye smiled.

Fitz handed her the mirror and she took it with a small thank you, flipping it around in her hands as Jemma explained something to her. Fitz turned me around and pulled me to lean against him, arms over my shoulders as I let my head fall into its spot against his neck.

“Alright team. Suit up.”

�� ***

“Wife’s name is Nadrah.” May filled in the gap for Skye, swiping around on the holotable.

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want me to go in? Grant and I work really well together, and that way you don’t have to go out into the field.” I tried to reason with Coulson, who was gathering his gear.

“I’m sure, Violet. You stay here, keep Fitz-Simmons calm. You know they panic in intense situations. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your brother safe.” He patted my shoulder with a smile before brushing past me.

I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. Fitz walked in, handing me a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle. He gave me puppy eyes and I followed him to the holotable, where May was still directing Skye.

“How’s she doing?” Fitz whispered before shoving popcorn into his mouth.

“She’s good.” Both Jemma and May whispered back.

“I could get used to this, people. It’s like Siri if it worked.” Skye spoke. “Skipper to Bravo. I’ve got eyes on Top Dog. The Eagle is landing on it.”

We all looked at each other, and May let a small smile twitch past her lips despite her eye roll. I giggled and hopped up to sit on the table.

“What are you doing?” Jemma asked.

“Uh, sorry, I-I dunno. I see Quinn, I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Jemma smiled hopefully and May remained stoic. Fitz offered me popcorn. I only opened my mouth, letting him throw the pieces in and laughing when he missed horribly.

We heard Skye laugh over her comm. “Yeah, right? Ian Quinn. I’m your last-minute party crasher. Skye.”

“Oh. Wow.” We could hear Quinn too, albeit faintly. “Great to meet you. Um, this is Skye, a member of the Rising Tide. They’re a group of hackers. They’ve gotten some pretty big secrets out to the public.”

“I prefer hacktivist. I’m glad you’ve heard of our site.”

“I read it. We think very much alike. More freedom of information, less government infringing on everyone’s rights. I’m a fan.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed at Fitz’s tie, pulling him to stand between my legs so I could lean against him.

“That explains the invite. This is a tough party to get into.”

“Not as hard to get into as the encrypted back channel you contacted us through to request the invite.” His tone was annoying, and he was trying to flirt with her.

“That’s sort of where I live.” I heard Skye force a laugh.

“You’ve got to show me how you did that- I mean, if you sign on.”

She paused. “Sign what, now?”

“I’ve been known to turn a few black hats into white hats, not just for vulnerability analysis, but for very creative thinking.”

Skye hesitated and I rolled my eyes again, thumping my head against Fitz’s shoulder. He only rubbed my back.

“A-are you offering me a job?”

“Well I didn’t invite you here for your pretty face. I didn’t know you had a pretty face.”

I looked over my shoulder at May, who only shook her head and mirrored my eye roll. Fitz caught my look and tutted at me, pulling me back against him and kissing the top of my head.

“Yes, I wanna hire you, before someone else snatches you up.”

“That seemed to go well.” May noted.

“Yeah. It did.” She breathed out, and her tone seemed different, but I was tired beyond belief.

Grant and I had spent the entire night awake, sparring to try and blow off steam. The mention of our older brother twice in three nights had shaken us both to our cores, and then we were awake and angry. We had gone until three in the morning, at which point I realized the time and sent him to bed because he had to be alert to be the extraction tomorrow. I had spent another two hours on the punching bag. At that point, Fitz came downstairs with pajamas and sleepy eyes, looking for me. We hopped in the shower together because he was scared I’d pass out and drown if I were by myself, and I fell asleep afterward, with only half an hour left until we had to be up to start our day all over again.

The comm stuck in my ear crackled to life, and I was relieved to hear Grant on the other end.

“Hey Vi. We’re here. Keep you updated.”

“Sounds good, bubs.” I mumbled back.

I could hear Coulson over the comms, saying something about Grant’s personality setting Dr. Hall on edge. I scoffed a laugh and turned my head into Fitz’s shoulder.

“It’s locked, but there’s no lock.” I heard Skye.

Fitz grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Eh, check for a keypad.”

“Nothing. What, you can hack a keypad?”

“No, not over the phone.” He mumbled, bringing the bowl of popcorn over my shoulder and placing it in my lap.

“Is there a reception desk?” May asked.

“Okay, yeah. Well now what do I do?”

“What are you trying to do?” Quinn’s voice came over her comm and we froze.

“Just… looking for a pen,” she laughed nervously. “Here we go. Gotta write down all those good ideas, you know what I mean? Of course you know what I mean, you probably have like ten pens for all your ideas…”

“What are you really doing?” His tone escalated.

Skye took a long pause. We stared at each other and I pressed the comm in my ear.

“Grant? She might’ve just been made.”

“Noted.” He grunted back and then was gone as quickly as he had come.

“Alright. I’m busted. I was trying to get a glimpse behind your office doors, see how things really operate.”

“I invite you here as a guest, you treat me like another corrupt institution, looking for trade secrets to leak online. Security-”

“No, no, no, wait. It’s just… with all these la-di-da people, you have to be so guarded, so … careful. What you say. What secrets you reveal. And … I was hoping that you and I… could be honest with one another. If you know what I mean.”

There was another long pause, and then there was a creaking of doors and Skye was back to normal. Fitz had climbed onto the table to sit behind me, forcing me to swing my legs to the other edge of the table. The popcorn was still in my lap, and I was grateful, because that way the warmth of his arms never left my sides.

“My office had less space, more wheels. Wow. A view of the ocean and the pool.”

“Not a bad place to do business.” Quinn flirted back.

“Got the dispatch leaking Hall’s location. User’s an alias.”

“Oh, can you trace the DHCP server-”

May cut Fitz off. “Trace is running, but it’ll take time. How’s our girl?” She asked, referring to Skye.

“I thought she was done for, but she just sweet-talked her way into Quinn’s office.” Jemma exclaimed.

“Grant. She’s good. She’s in.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, idiot.” I scoffed.

The line clicked off without a response.

“How’d she manage that?” May asked.

I sputtered, shaking my head. Fitz squirmed behind me, using his hands as he spoke.

“She probably just used her, um, uhh…” He stumbled as Jemma and May shot him glares.

I turned to see his hands cupping his chest.

“Uh, her uh… boobs.” He spat out.

I rolled my eyes and got off the table, leaving the bowl in his lap and standing at his side.

“Ugh! That’s the only explana-” Jemma was cut off by static.

I looked down to see Skye’s comm gone. “Shit, the signal’s dead.”

“Fitz, what did you do?” Jemma hit his arm.

“What- I didn’t do anything! She must’ve- oh lord.” He sighed.

May looked at me. “She’s double crossing us.”

I shook my head. “No, no, no, no, no. Stop. We’re not gonna jump to conclusions here, alright? She’s probably just got an idea.” I defended her.

“She’s supposed to stick to the plan!” I forgot my comm was on.

“She’s just offline. We lost audio and vitals.”

“Abort is not an option. But if she’s compromising-”

“She’s still your only way in to get to Dr. Hall. And you’re the only way out. Sit tight.” I rolled my eyes and clicked the comm off.

“Violet. Just think about it. Why else would she turn off her comm?” Fitz asked me, eyes kind.

“She’s got a plan. Just trust me. She’s gotta have a plan.” I clicked my comm back on. “Grant, just keep moving. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll keep you updated.”

He scoffed on the other end. “Since when are you so soft?”

“Can you put aside the bitch-fit for when you come back? Right now you have to focus on getting in and out, okay?” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. Keep me updated.”

“I told you I would.” I rolled my eyes again, clicking my line off.

I looked around to see Fitz-Simmons and May blinking at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“I just, uh…” Fitz trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

“We haven’t ever really seen you like that is all, love.” Jemma offered a sweet smile.

“Your brother’s back and you’re acting different. It’s sort of amusing.” May shrugged, the most truthful.

“Hey, Vi?” Grant’s voice was calm and quiet.

“What’s wrong?” I perked up.

“We’re gonna have to take on this next patrol. Skye better hurry it the hell up or we’re dead. Just thought you should know.” He whispered.

I sighed. “Be careful.”

“Always.” It was followed by a grunt, and then the sounds of an unfair fight.

I sighed and watched as May eyed the holotable nervously. Skye was still offline. A few grunts later, Grant sighed.

“Guys, clocks ticking. Where’s Skye?” Coulson came on.

The holotable clicked, and her compact connected.

“We’re in!” May shouted.

“She’s done it!” Jemma squealed.

“Leo, you’re up.” I took the bowl from him.

“Oh, Mother of all things. Move, move! Move!” He all but shoved May aside, tie flying as he ran.

His fingers danced over the holotable, and his eyes darted around as he licked his lips. He was scared to screw it up.

“Vi, tell Fitz to hurry. They’re onto us.” Grant growled.

“Fitz is going as fast as he can!” I shouted back.

“Fitz!” Coulson called.

“Saying his name repeatedly does not increase productivity!” Jemma yelled, getting them to back off.

“Okay, go!” Fitz jumped.

“Or maybe it does.” Jemma tilted her head.

“Grant! Move, now!” I watched the three second timer on the screen.

“System rebooting in two, one, now!” Fitz counted it off.

There was a grunt and then silence.

“Grant?” The rise and fall of my chest became frantic.

I really hoped my brother hadn’t gotten cut in half by a twenty foot laser fence.

“We’re in.”

I sighed, letting out a breath. May had gone back to her computer, following the trace of the dispatch that had leaked Hall’s location. Fitz pulled me into a hug. I hooked my arms around his middle and buried my face into his shoulder, ignoring the itching of his cardigan against my nose.

“Oh no.” May was louder than usual. “Coulson. The leak came from-”

“Dr. Hall. Yeah, I’m getting that.”

There was a yelp and a grunt, and then Coulson’s comm cut out.

“Grant?”

“I’m here.”

“Coulson’s out. We don’t know what happened. Keep moving, get Skye. We’ll keep you updated. Be careful.”

“Always.”

***

“Guys, we need to talk.” Coulson’s voice came over the comms.

“Lost you for a minute.” May sighed. “We’re aware of the problem, sir. Hall wanted Quinn to kidnap him?” She asked as we walked into the lab, where Fitz-Simmons were scrambling about.

“Yeah, why would he do that?” Fitz was disgruntled.

“What is wrong with him?” Jemma was distraught.

“Quinn built a gravity generator. Like the one we found but bigger. Hall knew Quinn would need him to control its raw power, but Hall just wanted to unleash it.”

“The one we found was only two point five centimeters in diameter. It stopped a semi.” Jemma shrugged.

“How big are we talking?” I asked.

“Twelve feet. It’ll definitely take down the entire compound.”

My heart clenched in my chest once more. Skye and Coulson were on there. And more importantly to me, Grant was on there. I had just gotten him back after eleven years. I couldn’t lose him to an element on the periodic table.

“It’ll sink the place!” Jemma was agitated.

“No, it’ll do more than that.” Fitz shook his head, working at something, tucking a screwdriver behind his ear.

“Work a solution. I’ll disconnect the power before things get … crazy.”

He was gone again.

“Vi.”

“What is it?” I asked, relief at hearing my brother’s voice.

“I don’t know where I’m going. I need you to pull up a map and talk me through this. Please.”

I only nodded. “Just a second.” I hit a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up the blueprint of Quinn’s mansion.

I took my comm out and tossed it to Fitz, who set the connection to the same as Coulson’s. Now we could all hear him, and he could hear all of us.

“Alright. This place is massive. Where am I heading?”

“Southwest corner.” May guided him. “Ward. Tell me you’ve got things covered on the ground. I can’t do a damn thing from out here.”

I caught a small gasp and perked up. It had come from Grant. I pulled up his vitals on the tablet next to me and saw that his heart rate went up. Something had happened that made him nervous.

“I’m working on it.” He replied.

We sat in silence, watching as the dot on the map that was Grant moved faster. Coulson’s comm clicked back on, and we could hear a loud whirring and a rumbling.

“... future generations ruined in his wake!” Hall’s voice was agitated.

“Like agents Fitz and Simmons, your former students? I’ve got them in my ear right now, telling me you’re not a bad guy. We could’ve worked with you on this.”

There was a crashing noise, and Fitz tensed in his seat.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? S.H.I.E.L.D. is just as guilty of the same thing! Experimentation without a thought of consequence! Your search for an unlimited power source brought an alien invasion!”

“Fair point.” Coulson only sighed.

There was another crashing noise, and Coulson’s comm finally gave out. May cursed loudly, and Jemma put her hands back to her neck.

“She’s not here!” Grant screamed.

We paused.

“Grant, the pool.”

“What?”

“There’s a pool by the window. She must’ve jumped. She’s probably out in the front!”

“Are you sure?”

“Grant! We tag-teamed! Stop doubting me and listen!” I groaned, balling my hands in frustration.

He muttered a reply that I ignored. His dot was beelining down the steps and out into the main lot. He must’ve been sprinting. He reached the spot and took a deep breath. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. There were grunts and shouts, and the cracking of bones. Grant winced, but was quick to regain another breath and keep fighting.

When he finished, I could hear his breathing, along with Skye’s, which was even more frantic.

“You hurt? Follow my orders. I’ll get us out of here.” He was gone again.

Coulson’s line came back on, staticky. “Nothing. Fitz-Simmons? I tried to cut the power. It’s still going.”

Fitz-Simmons blurted out too many words at the same time, and the only thing I understood was ‘catalyst’.

“Something to create a chemical reaction in the core.” Jemma explained.

“It’s not too late to do the right thing! Help me find a catalyst-”

“I am doing the right thing. A completely selfless act. I know that history never celebrates what didn’t happen. They’ll call this a-a tragedy. They won’t understand the good I did here.”

“Vi?” Grant came on. “We’ve almost got Coulson.”

“Can you get him out?”

“Not yet. We need another minute or two.”

“You don’t have that long.” Fitz jumped in, looking at me with concern.

“Killing innocent people?”

“Saving millions. We have to live with the choices we make, but sometimes we have to die with them too.”

“I understand. You made a hard call… and now I have to make mine.” Coulson clicked his comm off, but we still heard the gunshots through Grant’s.

“Alright, we’re in.”

***

Fitz-Simmons hadn’t taken the news well. Coulson had been the one to explain what happened. He shot the glass, and Dr. Hall got sucked into the gravitonium. He was gone. They were devastated, frustrated, and overall upset. Jemma had made a tea and fallen asleep on the couch, where Grant wordlessly draped a blanket over her and shot me a look when I smiled at him.

Fitz was in the bathroom, showering. He had left the door cracked open, and I got the feeling it was to reassure me that he was okay. The water shut off, and he got dressed rather quickly, coming out of the bathroom in boxers and nothing else. His hair had obviously been towel-dried, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it. He gave me a soft smile as he sat next to me.

“Hi angel face.” I whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” He mumbled, wrapping me in his arms and dropping his head against my shoulder.

He was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame him. I ran my fingers through his damp hair and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, tracing shapes onto his bare skin.

“I love you too. Why don’t you try to sleep, Leo?” I asked once he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“Stay with me?” He gave me puppy eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or not.

I smiled and leaned forward, grabbing him by the cheeks and pulling him to me so I could kiss his pouty lips. “Always.”

He slid down under the covers and let me get settled against the headboard. I sat with my legs crossed. He rolled over and dropped his head into my lap, laying on his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin. I threaded my hand in his hair, tugging gently at the curls to untangle them. He sighed, content. My hand started to work by itself, long after his hair was close to dry and he was breathing steadily, asleep.

Skye had gone downstairs to work on her punches, and Grant had gone straight for the shower. I sat in the bed, fingers still mindlessly combing through Fitz’s hair. I hadn’t been the one to lose a mentor, and I hadn’t been the one with a gun up to my face, but I was still tired, and now emotionally drained. There was a knock on my door.

“Come in.” I mumbled, eyes focused on a spot on the wall.

“Hey, ducky. How ya doing?”

I shrugged, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve had better days.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna go check on Skye. Wanna come?”

I nodded, working Fitz’s head off my lap and onto a pillow. I took Grant’s hand the moment he outstretched it. We walked in silence, and it was peaceful. We didn’t have to verbalize what we wanted to say to each other, we just knew what the other was thinking. It was all I’m sorry’s and I love you to death, please don’t forget that’s and I’m glad you’re alive’s. He went down the stairs first, sitting down and letting me lean onto him.

“Where’d you guys grow up?” Skye asked through a grunt.

“Massachusetts, mostly.” I answered.

“A house?” She asked again.

“You didn’t?” Grant cocked his head.

She stopped the bag, holding it steady as she panted. “One house.” She grabbed a water bottle and walked to our side. “The Brody’s. I was nine. Sent me back to St. Agnes after a month. Said I wasn’t a good fit.”

“Foster parents.” Grant deduced. “Your first?”

She scoffed. “My third. I had heard it before, but… this one was different.”

“‘Cause you wanted them to like you.” I spoke in a hushed tone.

She looked up and nodded. “Bad.”

Grant sighed and she looked back down, sniffling. I looked down to my brother. He gave my knee a squeeze.

“I called her mom once… tried it out.” She shrugged and sighed. “Guess it wasn’t a good fit.”

She shook herself off and returned to the bag. “Hoping for something and losing it? Hurts more than never hoping for anything.”

Grant and I exchanged looks.

She needs reassurance that we won’t leave her. She’s got trust issues.

Grant nodded and we got up wordlessly, each putting weight against the bag so she could have a more solid stance.

“We won’t turn our backs.” He spoke first.

“Doesn’t matter.” She took another punch. “I made my choice. I want this.” Another three punches. “Bad.”

“Well, good. Because you fit in. We like you. You’re a buffer, and a smart one.” I smiled, letting Grant put his full weight against the bag so I could take the pressure off my leg.

She looked at me with a grin. “And I know there’s a truth serum.”

Grant and I only looked at each other once again, each laughing.

“Whatever you say, rookie.”

#leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

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vegetacide · 5 years ago

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Whump●tober - Unconscious

Veg-notables: For whumptober. I’m doing this out of order and I don’t know how much I am going to be able to produce for this but I am going to give it a go.. Thanks to @gumnut-logic for all her help. She beta read this for me and enlightened me about my subject matter. You rock!

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: Just a heads up for migraine sufferers this post deals with them.

Characters: K/V, Scott

Whumptober - TaG universe

10. Unconscious

Enjoy...

oOo

The silence in the cockpit of Two was a drastic contrast to the days events. It was almost numbing in its entirety and the muteness in comparison to the past forty-eight hours sent a shiver of discomfort down Virgil’s spine.

As the adrenaline ebbed and drained away a twitchy feeling settled over his tired frame. He scrubbed angrily at his face and roughly sank his hands into his jet black hair, leaving it in complete disarray.

Slumping back in his seat, tired brown eyes glanced over the displays and absently took note of the post flight checks. Just a few more minutes and the data would be uploaded to the island servers leaving him free to debrief, shower and hopefully fall into the much needed oblivion of sleep that his body seriously craved.

Watching the information continue to scroll across the screen as the program verified each of Two’s systems, Virgil felt an even deeper lethargy settle over him and he allowed his head to fall back on the padded rest.

Call outs had been on an uptick lately and Virgil was having a hard time remembering when he’d last managed to a solid eight hours of rack time or even when he’d had a full meal. Trying to recollect the last thing he’d consumed; other than coffee and stim’ tabs, had a sudden stab of pain flare in his temple.

Clenching his lids tight against the agony as the overhead control panel blurred out, he flung his arm across his face and buried his head in the crook of his elbow. Effectively blocking out and hiding from the glare of the panels around him that seemed to be lighting the place up brighter than the sun.

Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it out his nose, he waited for the discomfort that had started to throb through his head to subside to a manageable level. In. Out. In. Out, repeat. The pain didn’t abate in the slightest but grew in intensity.

Rubbing at the growing ache, he hissed out a curse as his comms pinged with an incoming transmission. Forcing his posture upright, he plastered an acceptable expression on his face and flicked the line open, praying that it wasn’t another mission.

“Hey Scott, what up?”

The holo of his eldest brother floating blue and transparent above the control console frowned at him. “You coming up?” Virgil blinked a couple times as the image before him doubled and shifted back again.

Virgil gave a nod and held back a wince as the movement of his skull drove a railroad spike through his cerebral cortex. Quickly schooling his features and hoping the eagle eyes of his brother hadn’t noticed, he flicked a few random switches. “Ya, just finishing up the post flight. Had an odd reading from the aft thruster and had to run additional diagnostics. Be up in five.”

“Okay,” His brother replied back but didn’t sign off. He hung there, arms crossed a moment and the intake a breath told Virgil that the commander of iR was suspicious. “V, you okay?”

Virgil cursed to himself as an aura flared in the corner of his eye, “Ya, I’m good. Long day” He added a casual shrug before continuing. “Almost done, meet you in the lounge in a few.” He forced a smile he hoped would reassure his brother that he was just busy and closed the line down.

As the muted light of the holo dissipated Virgil all but folded in half, head dropping into his hands with a groan. Biting back the nausea that started rolling his stomach and swallowing as his mouth started to salivate, Virgil fought his gag reflex and gruffly ordered the sun shade down over the view screen, plunging the cabin into darkness. “Fuck..” He moaned out, pressing his fingers into his eyes as the world went sideways.

8-8-8

Scott sat back in his father’s desk chair and frowned as he watched the time tick by on the open data screen that was scrolling stock market details in front of him. Something felt off, he knew his brothers were tired and worn from yet another rescue. They’d been busier than normal lately and it was started to wear but his big brother senses were tingling.

Fingers steepled, his frown grew as another minute past and still there was no sign of his Second. Sitting up, he flicked the statistical data away and brought up an overhead blueprint image of the island. With another quick flick, coloured numbers appeared and overlaid the island villa floor plan.

A couple of the numbers were moving about the island, going about their business of relaxing and enjoying the down time. Alan; Scott could hear from where he was sitting, was down in the kitchen searching for something edible and singing horribly off key. The red number three on the screen blipped merrily on the map before him in correlation.

The next closest numbers were his own and the submarine yellow four that indicated Gordon in the pool but the verdant number two was what drew Scott’s eye. It blipped slowly and unmoving in the bowels of their island home, right where his brother’s ‘bird was berthed.

Narrowing his eyes, Scott took only a moment of contemplation before double tapping the motionless number. The screen shifted, flipping the island to a side view and zoomed in on the hanger. The side profiles shrank as the screen split and tabled, moving to the top, left corner. Mission data along with Thunderbird Two’s status flashed below, all scans showing green. The opposite half of the screen filling with the audio channel info and flight suit bio readings.

On a whim, Scott blew the bio readings up for closer inspection and drew in a concerned breath. The numbers were way off base line. O2 levels were crap, pulse was quick and thready and body temp readings wonky. "Shit…"

"What's up?" Came the lilting voice of their security expert from the base of the landing stairs, her eyes zeroing in on the screen as she stalked across the room.

Scott spared her only a brief glance as he flicked back over to the house schematics and punched in a series of commands. Instantly the storm shutters started trundling down over the villa windows and the over head lighting reduced.

There was a yelp from Alan downstairs followed by something shattering, Scott ignored it as he turned his attention back to Kayo. “Down in Two.” It was all that needed to be said.

“Another one?” She asked even though Scott knew she really didn’t need the answer.

“Looks like it.”

She mirrored his earlier expletive.

8-8-8

They found Virgil in a shivering heap on Two’s flight deck fading in and out of consciousness and Kayo held back her panic as she sank down on her haunches beside him.

Gently brushing his hair back from his forehead, she sighed at the sight. His skin was sallow and damp with perspiration and he quaked as his body temp kicked up a notch. “You idiot, what have you done to yourself?” She questioned softly as Scott settled down at her elbow and passed a med-scanner over his sibling.

“This is a bad one.” He whispered as he finished and pressed an IV kit into her hands. He pushed to his feet and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m gonna go grab a stretcher. We gotta get him up to his room and it doesn’t look like he’s gonna move otherwise.”

Kayo nodded in reply and Scott disappeared through the access hatch.

Sighing as she looked at the pained expression on Virgil’s face she set to work unbuckling his baldric, relieving him of the top half of his flight suit and went in search of a viable vein.

Swabbing the inside of his forearm clean she tried not to let how unresponsive he was to her prodding bother her but she was having a hard time of it. She knew the corded muscle under her hand intimately and seeing it so slack was more disturbing than she cared to admit.

She gave her head a shake and shut the thought process down, now was not the time and cursed as she failed yet again to breach a vein. Damn it, his veins were a mess and she was having a hell of a time trying to find one that wouldn’t collapse as soon as she touched it.

Squaring her shoulders, Kayo tried again with a smaller gauge and the sting of the needle fishing around roused Virgil from the darkness. His foggy eyes flickered open. Unseeing and blood shot they scanned around blindly. “..Tin..?” His voice was rough and barely audible through the clattering of his teeth.

Kayo shushed him softly and comber a hand gently through his sweat soaked hair. “It’s ok, I got you.” She whispered, bending down to skim a kiss over his brow before returning her attention to his shot circulatory system.

“..S..s’rry..” He groaned out as a wave of pain pulsed through him.

She couldn’t help the confused chuckle and a soft, worried smile tilted her lips. “What for?” She questioned nearly pumping her fist when she finally hit pay dirt. Catheter in place, she grabbed a line and with little fuss set up a saline drip to replenish his depleted system.

“Worrying..you. Can see...see it in your..”He stopped abruptly, the colour bleeding out of his face as he took on a decidedly green cast. ..”oh god...”

Kayo swore and steady him as he lurched to one side and proceeded to lose the contents of his stomach all over the decking. Grabbing an emesis bowl she held it out for him before too much damage could be done. Not that Virgil had much to bring up.

As he dry heaved, all Kayo could do was rub a gentle hand on his back in slow, steady circles and try him couch him through the retching. By the time he was done, Virgil was a weak, quivering mess and needed help to settle back down on the cool, diamond plating.

“That sounded like fun.” Came a voice from behind her as Scott returned from the medbay and crouched down beside them, his eyes glancing over the IV bag hanging off the back of a seat, “Hey Virg, how ya doing?”

Virgil just grunted by way of reply, not even bothering to open his eyes and rolled over onto his back, his chest heaving with the movement.

“That good, huh?” he turned to Kayo and pulled out a veil, speaking softly “I’ve got Alan just outside to help get him upstairs but if he is at the yacking phase of the ride we gotta get this into him first or the trip is going to be rough.”

Kayo took it from him and read the label. It was a fast acting cocktail of painkillers and anti-nauseants that she knew Virgil hated with a passion but options were limited. He was too far gone and they couldn’t very well leave him here on the deck of Two while they waited for the migraine to pass.

Grabbing a sterile syringe she handed the lot back to Scott to deal with and lent down to Virgil’s ear. “We’re giving you the cocktail, I know you hate it but we don’t have much of a choice and you need it.”

Virgil sank the heel of his palms into his sockets and with bared teeth clenching down as a new wave of torture attempted to make his brain explode.

With tender fingers, Kayo wiped an errant tear from his cheek and waited for his nod of approval. He was lucid at the moment and due to that they couldn’t just pump him full of drugs unless he agreed to it.

“Virgil?” She questioned again, laying a hand on his heaving chest. “Let us help..”

A small, brief nod from him spoke loudly of how much he was suffering.

She looked to Scott who was already sliding the syringe into the IV injection port. His eyes meeting hers, he depressed the plunger and Virgil was lost to the black void of drug induced oblivion and she was thankful for it.

8-8-8

TBC

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbird fanfic #Virgil Tracy #kayo kyrano #Scott Tracy #virgil/kayo #thunderbird two #thunderbird one #thunderbird shadow #migraine #ouch #prompt #the prompt made me do it #whumptober2019 #no.10 #unconscious

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fanficwriter013 · 7 years ago

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The Tower - Chapter 27

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 27

Chapters: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Word Count: 2179

Warnings: Drama, mentions of human experimentation, and child abuse, mentions of injuries, emotional conversations (sappy y’all)

Synopsis: Elly starts her work for HYDRA, until things get a little out of hand.

Author’s Note: Written with @emilyevanston because I’m with you till the end of the line.

Chapter 27 - The Rescue Mission

The others didn’t come at all that night. I started to panic and I noticed that Clint started pacing in the middle of the night. The cells were too dark to see each other to be able to sign to each other. Thankfully, at some point, Scott showed up and whispered to me that it had taken longer than he’d expected to backup their data. It had meant by the time it was done most of the people in the building had gone home for the night. So they were waiting until morning to raid the building with other federal backup.

After that, I slept. Not well, I woke up panicked a few times but I did sleep. I was woken early by a male guard. He was polite but made it clear I had no choice about going with him. I looked back at Clint who signed to me that I’d be okay.

The guard took me to some showers and gave me toiletries and a change of clothes. Thankfully he left me alone to shower, choosing to stand guard on the door outside. While I was in the bathroom I drank as much water as I could. I had not touched any food or drink since I got there and I was very, very dehydrated. After I washed I was taken to a cafeteria to eat. I was really hungry so I watched what the handful of other people that were there were getting and copied them. I went extra safe, opting for prepackaged yogurt, a banana, a sealed bottle of orange juice and a bottle of water in case I needed it later.

I was then taken up to the lab where Alexa was waiting for me. “Elise,” She said greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. Like we were friends despite the fact she’d locked me in a prison cell overnight. “You look terrible. Didn’t you sleep?”

“You locked me in a cell opposite Clint,” I said, my voice monotone.

“Mmm…” She hummed looking quite pleased with herself. “I heard you two were fighting. I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s best to have a clean break.” She took me into a lab that had a biometric scanner on the door. “This is where you’ll be working. Your data is uploaded onto the system. Right now your project is fixing my genome but whatever other side projects you want to run is up to you.”

There were three people in the room, two women, and one man. “This is Claire, Rachel, and Ben. They will be working directly for you. Whatever you want them to do they will do it.”

The three scientists nodded to me. “The door will be locked to you. There’s a bathroom over there and lunch will be brought in.”

I nodded to her without making eye contact. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Just show us we can trust you and you can have your life back. That’s all.”

I nodded again and she left. The other three looked at me awaiting instruction. I looked around not really sure what to do. I didn’t actually want to do any work. “I’ll uhh… need blood samples from… from the… the assets put through the centrifuge.” I stuttered. “I’m going to need a full DNA analysis.”

They nodded and turned to start work. I went and sat at a bench and just started opening up files on what Alexa had done to herself. It was quite horrific really. Justin had gotten it into his head that along with the manned flight suits he wanted to try getting into the Super Soldier arena too. He’d started experimenting on Alexa. I’d thought my dad was bad. He was a positive saint compared to Justin Hammer. Alexa had basically joined HYDRA bringing all the money from Hammer Industries just to fix her father's mistakes because all he’d left her with was terminal cancer.

I’d be sympathetic if she wasn’t torturing my family.

I was starting to get an idea of what she’d done to herself. She’d created a serum, made from her own genetically modified cells and then used Bruce’s gamma radiation technique hoping they’d take over from her cells. It had worked except her modifications weren’t enough. I was just wondering if I could modify her technique to actually create these mutations in people when an alarm went off and the three other scientists all stood suddenly.

“What’s going on?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

“It’s a code zero. There’s going to be a raid.” Ben said as the three started moving to different stations. “We have to start destroying everything.”

I grabbed a heavy piece of equipment and just slammed it down on the door lock. It fizzed and went out. The other three turned and looked at me shocked. “I’m going to need you to move to the wall and not move,” I said, cracking my knuckles and hoping they didn’t call my bluff.

The women moved to the wall while Ben stood and looked me up and down. “Knew it was a mistake trusting you.” He hissed.

“That was smart, now go stand by the wall or I’ll show you how the Avengers train their scientists,” I said taking a step toward him.

He backed off quickly going to stand with the two women.

“Sit down, push your phones to me and then hands where I can see them.” I barked at them.

The women complied quickly but once again Ben seemed to think twice about it. He stared at me for a few beats trying to work out if he could take me or not. His shoulders sagged and he slumped to the ground tossing the phones over to me.

“Thank you for your co-operation,” I said looking down at them.

“You might still have the specimens but the data is getting destroyed as we speak. You’ve got nothing.” Ben snarled at me.

“Shut up,” Claire whispered.

I laughed. “Thank you for worrying about me. Don’t worry. I’ve been here a full day now. It’s already been backed up.”

“Alexa is not going to be happy about this,” Ben said, scowling.

I shrugged. “I’d say you’re right about that. Now, keep your fingers crossed it’s not the Hulk that finds us. I can convince the others to go easy on you. He might be harder.”

We waited for a while. Someone tried the door before moving on. It sounded like chaos outside. Gunfire and people running around. My head was suddenly filled with Wanda. ‘Elly, where are you?’ Even in my head, she sounded sick. I was relieved to feel her though.

‘Floor 45. There’s a lab. I broke the door so they couldn’t get in.’ I sent back. I guess I was a little emotional too because it was also sent with a random mixture of relief and love. ‘Oh god, are you okay?’ ‘Wanda, I was so scared.’ ‘I love you.’ Among a lot of other things.

‘Calm down, El. I can’t keep up.’ She sent me. I think it must have made her laugh or something though because I felt happier too. ‘45?’

I sent back ‘Yes.’

There was a brief wait where there was nothing and then Wanda sent me, ‘Take cover.’

“Take cover,” I yelled and dropped to the ground covering my head with my hands.

There was an almighty crash and Hulk burst through the door, sending it flying along with part of the wall. He stepped into the room with a roar. Ben started crying. I jumped to my feet and ran to the Hulk. His face softened when he saw me and when I slammed into his leg and started hugging him one giant hand gently stroked my back. “Elly okay. Hulk here.” He said in a gentle rumble.

“Thank you, big guy,” I said. A bunch of police in SWAT gear came through the door arking wide around Hulk and giving me a strange look. I looked up to see Steve standing behind them. I wanted to run to him too but given I’d just hugged the Hulk I was worried about the whole public image thing.

Steve smiled and made a ‘come here’ gesture with his hand. I rushed over and crashed into him. He closed his arms around me. “You did great, El.” He whispered in my ear.

“Bucky and Wanda… She was… they were…” I felt myself close to tears and he rubbed his hands in soothing circles on my back.

“I know. Do you know where they’re keeping him? We still haven’t found him.” Steve said.

“He was down in the basement with Wanda and Clint,” I said, my stomach sinking. Steve let me go and stepped into the Lab.

“We still need to find Searant Barnes. Three of you go with the Hulk. Two of you get these three out of here. The rest start bagging up this stuff as evidence.” He said. Everyone took action. Hulk and three of the braver officers took off towards the stairs.

“I’ll take you to the Jet. Wanda and Clint are there with Hill and Coulson.” Steve said. I followed him to the stairwell. We started walking down, but I had trouble keeping up with him.

He turned to me. “Come on, El. Get on.” He said. I jumped on his back and he started carrying me down much, much faster. On floor thirteen he stopped dead, his head tilted to the side. He lifted his hand to his ear. “Is anyone on 13?” He said into comms.

I don’t know what the reply was but he patted my legs and I climbed off. “Stay here. There’s someone in there and there shouldn’t be.”

He went through the door silently and I waited in the stairs. It was still noisy but mostly much higher up as the police and the Avengers cleared the building. Police kept running up and down the stairs and I moved up a little to get out of the way more.

The door opened again and I turned expecting to see Steve coming through the door. It was not Steve. Bucky moved silently, seeming to almost be made of the shadows himself. He turned to look at me and for one brief second my heart stopped. I was sure they had gotten through to him.

“El?” He said, and his face broke out into a huge smile.

I rushed to him wrapping my arms around his waist and that was when I started crying. “Oh god. What they did to you.”

He pressed his lips to the top of my head. “It’s over. It’s… it’s gonna take some therapy, not gonna lie. But it’s over.” He whispered. “I love you, Elly. I’m so sorry I never said it before. I do though. I love you. I was scared because I thought I’d just end up losing you.”

“It’s okay, Buck. I knew. I love you too.” I said, my tears flowing.

He tilted my chin up to face him and kissed me. It wasn’t long, but I needed it so badly. “Why are you standing out in the stairwell by yourself?” He asked when he pulled apart.

“Steve was…” I didn’t get to say what Steve was doing because he stepped through the door, said my name and then just slammed into my back wrapping his arms around Bucky and burying his face into his neck.

“Oh god, Buck, I thought they’d triggered you.” He murmured.

“They tried,” Bucky replied.

I wriggled in between them. “You’re crushing me.”

Steve laughed and stepped back. “Sorry, El.” He said, ruffling my hair. “Come on you two, we’re getting you to the jet.”

Steve carried me the rest of the way downstairs with Bucky next to him. In the lobby, he let me to my feet again and we followed him to the Quinjet. When I saw Wanda in the stretcher I started crying again. Wanda held her hands out to me and I crouched on the floor beside her and rested my head on her chest as she ran her hands along my hair.

“You shouldn’t be comforting me, I should be comforting you.” I sobbed, as I held onto her.

“You are El. Don’t worry.” Wanda said, resting her cheek on the top of my head.

Slowly the rest of the group returned. Scott was first, followed by Tony and Rhodey. Sam came next with Bruce. Bruce was back to himself, small, pale and wrapped in a blanket as he often was after the Hulk had taken over for a while. Coulson left to join the rest of the SHIELD members in their jet. Finally, Natasha and Steve climbed in. “Shall we go back to the tower then?” Natasha asked surveying the group.

“Please, can we?” Clint said. I think he was trying to make it sound like a joke but he mostly just sounded relieved.

Natasha smiled and got into the cockpit. “Buckle in, moya semya.” She said. “I’m taking us home.”

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djinmer4 · 6 years ago

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Badlands (Demon General AU)

Timeline? The author needs no stinkin’ timeline! Ahahahahahaha!

“Alright here’s the plan. Seir, our job is to get Shadowcat in and out of the facility. If something goes wrong, don’t bother waiting for me, just get her out. Cat, you’re job is to download as much information as you can on this Master Mold project. You don’t have to get everything, so if you need to cut and run, just do it. Everybody got it?”

Two raised eyebrows were his response. Seir cleared his throat, “Excuse me for being forward, but wouldn’t it be better if she went in alone? Shadowcat’s much more stealthy than either of us. She could sneak inside then sneak out with no one being the wiser.”

“And if she gets caught?”

“That’s what signal flares and panic buttons are for. We’re close enough that nothing short of a fatal shot will prevent me from teleporting in and rescuing her.”

“That fatal shot is what I’m worried about bub.” Wolverine extended one central claw to poke Seir in his breastplate. “And I ain’t trustin’ you with Half-Pint’s safety until we’ve spent a lot more time together. So the plan stays as it is.” The blue mutant just shrugged, unconcerned with the Canadian’s posturing.

Now it was Kitty’s turn. “That being said, if we’re discovered, even if we get out they may move the facility. Wouldn’t it be better if I uploaded a virus or something to destroy the mainframe completely?”

“No, we’re just here for information. We don’t know if this is really where they’re developing things or just a production facility. Once we’ve confirmed that, then we can destroy everything.”

“Your mission,” Kitty conceded, but the slight downturn of her lips indicated she really wasn’t happy with the plan.

Kitty phased them through the chain-linked fence then the wall. They did encounter a couple of guards, but they were easily killed by surprise and their bodies stashed away. Wolverine kept their communicators though, just to give them a heads up if something unusual happened. They got to the central area and found a terminal with a USB port. The X-Woman plugged in her tablet and started downloading the database.

After maybe ten minutes their luck ran out. A guard came up on patrol and spotted them. Wolverine stabbed him in the throat, but his cry of alarm had attracted the attention of the rest of the guards and now the facility was on full alert. “Seir, Shadowcat go! I’ll hold ‘em off!”

Seir grabbed Kitty, Kitty grabbed her tablet and cable and they disappeared in a puff of smoke. When they reappeared outside, Kitty took a moment to cough her lungs clear of the brimstone and regain her senses. “Now what?” asked Seir, rubbing her back to help ease the spasms.

“Wolverine said to leave him there, but honestly I don’t think that’s a good idea. That Trask clearly takes inspiration from the mutants the MRD locks up, let’s not give him more ammo.” She folded her hands together and pressed her fingers to her lips for a few moments. “I’ve got an idea, but it will depend on you rescuing me later. Are you alright with that?”

“Na sicher. I do like you after all, and even if I didn’t you’re carrying this missions payload.”

“Alright then. See that MRD van, with the two guys at the front? I’m going to cause a distraction. You sneak in and rescue Wolverine. I think I saw some cells near the front so come and get me after.” The General gave her a brief nod and then they split up.

The two drivers heard banging from the trunk of the van. “There’s no one in there, right?” asked the blonde to the black one.

“There shouldn’t be.” They both turned around. In the viewing window was a young girl, with amber pigtails and grey eyes. “Hi!” She waved at them.

Seir found it ridiculously easy to sneak back in. He simply teleported to the abandoned room then crawled around on the ceiling and through the plenum space. Occasionally when he encountered a dead end he simply teleported away. “These people need to look up more often.” he muttered to himself.

Finally getting fed up with not finding the team leader, he stopped in a darkened office and summoned a bamf. “Do you remember Logan? You steal his whiskey all the time.”

“Whiskey! Whiskey!”

“Yes, him. Go find him for me.” The bamf disappeared. After a few minutes, an image of Logan bolted to a dissecting table and under a scanner appeared in his mind. Seir picked up one of the automatics the guards had been carrying and teleported in. Hanging from the ceiling he opened fire, hitting the guards, Wolverine and most of the equipment. To his disgust though, he missed the scientist who scuttled under cover, set off the alarm and made it out the door.

Seir dropped down, grabbed Logan and teleported straight out to the van. “Didja have to hit me too?”

“You’ll heal. Now I’ve got to get back and-”

“Turns out I didn’t need a rescue after all.” Kitty walked up to them, cool as a cucumber. When the alarms went off the guards all ran to help, so I just walked through the cell door and out the main gate.

“And here I thought I’d have a chance to play knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress.” teased Seir.

They all climbed into the van and drove away unimpeded. Kitty turned back to look at the older mutant. “I’ve had a knight in shining armor before. They’re overrated.”

#demon general au #i have not timeline for this universe #seir #Kitty Pryde #Shadowcat #logan #wolverine #that mission was badly planned #that episode was badly written

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olgagarmash · 4 years ago

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Pharmacies face extra audit burdens that threaten their existence

The clock was about to strike midnight, and Scott Newman was desperately feeding pages into a scanner, trying to prevent thousands of dollars in prescription payments from turning into a pumpkin.

As the owner of Newman Family Pharmacy, an independent drugstore in Chesapeake, Virginia, he was responding to an audit ordered by a pharmacy benefit manager, an intermediary company that handles pharmacy payments for health insurance companies. The audit notice had come in January as he was scrambling to become certified to provide covid-19 vaccines, and it had slipped his mind. Then, a month later, a final notice reminded him he needed to get 120 pages of documents supporting some 30 prescription claims scanned and uploaded by the end of the day.

“I was sure I’d be missing pages,” he recalled. “So I was rescanning stuff for the damn file.”

Every page mattered. Pharmacy benefit managers, or PBMs, suspended in-person audits because of covid last year, shifting to virtual audits, much as in-person doctor visits shifted to telehealth. Amid added pandemic pressure, that means pharmacists such as Newman are bearing significantly more workload for the audits. It also has allowed benefit managers to review — and potentially deny — more pharmacy claims than ever before.

According to data from PAAS National, a pharmacy audit assistance service, while the number of pharmacy audits in 2020 declined nearly 14% from the year before, the overall number of prescriptions reviewed went up 40%. That meant pharmacies had to provide more documentation and stood to lose much more money if auditors could find any reason — even minor clerical errors — to deny payments.

The average audit in 2020 cost pharmacies $23,978, 35% more than the annual average over the previous five years, the PAAS data shows. And the number of prescriptions reviewed in September and October was fourfold over what PAAS members had seen in previous years.

Pharmacists have long complained that audits seem to have little to do with rooting out fraud, waste and abuse, but have become a way for these intermediary companies to enrich themselves. According to business analysts at IbisWorld, the pharmacy benefit manager market in the U.S. has grown to nearly $458 billion this year, up from less than $300 billion eight years ago.

Even before the pandemic, independent pharmacies were struggling financially with reimbursement rates they say are too low, the loss of customers to mail-order services or chain pharmacies, and a variety of measures by the benefit managers, including charging pharmacies fees and keeping manufacturer rebates for themselves.

Adding insult to injury: Many independent pharmacies report having received buyout offers from the large drugstore chains that own the PBMs, which pharmacists see as the primary reason for their financial struggles.

At a minimum, pharmacists say, virtual audits increase wait times and drive up costs for customers. At worst, the audits cost pharmacies thousands of dollars in payments for drugs already dispensed to customers, and may ultimately drive them out of business.

“It’s definitely pulling pharmacy staff away from their duties, and it’s become an administrative burden, which does have a direct impact on patient safety,” said Garth Reynolds, executive director of the Illinois Pharmacists Association. “They have to be the de facto audit team for the pharmacy benefit managers.”

Trent Thiede, president of PAAS National, said many of the more than 5,000 pharmacies he works with stepped up to offer covid testing and shots and to become an even bigger resource for customers during this health crisis. “With vaccinations in full swing, priorities should be focused on serving patients and our communities, not responding to audit requests,” Thiede said.

When auditors come in person, they primarily do the review themselves, occasionally asking pharmacists to pull additional documentation.

“In these virtual audits, you have to pull the prescription, put it through a copier of some kind, get everything aggregated, get all the signature logs. They want your license off the wall. They want all the employee licenses faxed,” Thiede said. “It’s a lot more laborious for these pharmacies.”

Express Scripts, one of the nation’s largest benefit managers, moved to virtual audits as a safety measure, said spokesperson Justine Sessions. “The virtual experience is very similar to the in-person audits in both scope and scale, and are conducted with the same frequency,” she wrote in an email. “When it is safe to do so, we intend to resume on-site audits.”

CVS Caremark, a benefit manager affiliated with the CVS pharmacy chain, and OptumRx did not respond to requests for an interview.

Dave Falk, who owns 15 Illinois pharmacies, said the largest audit he had ever seen before the pandemic was for 60 to 70 prescriptions, valued at $30,000 to $40,000. Then, last fall, his pharmacy in Robinson had to defend $200,000 in prescriptions in a virtual audit.

“None of these prescriptions were below $450,” he said. “These audits are not random. It’s a money grab by PBMs.”

He was appalled when the auditor asked his pharmacist to report the temperature of the refrigerator for perishable medications. The information has no bearing on whether prescriptions filled months earlier were appropriate.

“They’re looking for any reason to recoup funds,” Falk said.

After Falk and his pharmacist spent hours providing the documentation, the auditor initially denied $36,000 in drug payments, mostly because of missing patient signatures. Like most pharmacies during the pandemic, Falk’s had stopped collecting patient signatures last year for safety reasons. Major trade associations representing the PBM companies and pharmacies had come to an agreement last year that patients wouldn’t need to sign for medications provided through mail order, delivery or curbside pickup.

Nonetheless, Falk’s staff had to track down dozens of patients to have them sign affidavits that they had received the prescriptions, reducing the auditor’s denial to $12,000.

“That’s $12,000 for ridiculous reasons,” Falk said.

In Newman’s eight years as a pharmacist, he said, he has undergone six audits, all but the most recent done in person. In the virtual one, conducted on behalf of the health insurer Humana, Newman uploaded his documentation before the deadline. But he, too, was flagged for missing signatures.

Dan Strause, president and CEO of Hometown Pharmacy in Madison, Wisconsin, said his pharmacies received more than 1,000 pages of audit requests last year, covering more than $3 million in prescription claims. That represented 1.5% of his company’s total annual revenue. He said pharmacists saw a surge last year of what they call predatory audits, which look for ways to deny legitimate payments for prescriptions.

“What they did in 2020 was reprehensible,” Strause said. “While we were taking care of patients, they’re sitting back in their comfy offices figuring out ‘How can we make money off this? Can we find a loophole? Can we find a missing document? Can we find a reason to take back stuff?’”

Lisa Dimond, a spokesperson for Humana, said the company is required by the government to perform audits to see if pharmacies are adhering to regulations, but conducted fewer audits and reviewed fewer prescriptions in 2020 than in 2019.

“We have worked to reduce as much administrative burden as possible on our network pharmacies, offering extensions, when needed, while still working to ensure pharmacies are filling prescriptions appropriately for the safety of our members,” she said in a statement.

Pharmacists bristle when large pharmacy chains that operate their own benefit managers offer to buy their stores, acknowledging that times are tough. Joe Craft owns the Happy Druggist chain of pharmacies in central Ohio. He said he regularly receives letters seeking to buy his business from the same companies that cause him to lose an average of $6,000 in payments with every audit, about a week’s worth of revenue for a single drugstore.

“When you read that letter, you’re thinking to yourself, ‘Hell, yeah, times are tough,’” he said. “Of all people, they should know.”

And oftentimes, when independents are sold to bigger chains, those drugstores are shut down, and the chain pharmacy directs customers to one of its locations miles away.

Thiede and many pharmacists believe that, while in-person audits may resume after the pandemic, virtual audits may be here to stay as well.

“They can do more because they don’t have to travel and fly across the country and sit in your pharmacy all day long,” Thiede said. “They can just do it from their home and accomplish more.”

Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Photo: Ridofranz, Getty Images

source https://wealthch.com/pharmacies-face-extra-audit-burdens-that-threaten-their-existence/

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uosexplorationbmc · 4 years ago

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Preparing Final Presentation

Preparing the Presentation:

We got together on Teams to start putting together the presentation. A week or so prior I started to put together a presentation with a slide for every possibility. I transferred these slides onto Google Slides so that we could all see and work on the presentation together. We also picked back up an earlier discussion on whether the demo should be at the start or at the end of the video. After some discussion on both sides of the argument, we came to the consensus that as this was a pitch, we should have the demo at the start. We are selling this project to the client, so the sooner we can wow them the better.

After deciding this, Will and I proposed an idea we had been discussing over FaceTime the night before, should we present just talking over the video as standard, or should we present from in AltSpace? At first I was apprehensive, having seen Manuel try and take a group session in AltSpace I was very aware of how much could go wrong. In addition to this from a production perspective, I suggested that we needed to think of an alternative to recording audio if we did want to present in AltSpace. Audio in AltSpace can become heavily pitch shifted downwards when somebody's internet is struggling, and in Teams a small lag over a few words is far from uncommon. Audio imbalance was one of our criticisms from the first Presentation so I was keen not to repeat this. I tried to think of solutions to this while we discussed. We decided in the end to present in AltSpace, using the Media Player feature to display our presentation. We decided on this in the end because we wanted to show off the power and capability of AltSpace from the get go, and the fact that we are presenting from our chosen software pragmatically shows the client that we are confident in our chosen solution, giving them confidence in it. From here we decided that we would present from Wills shared space, before showcasing the portals as a means to go from room to room. As we enter each room, the group member who developed that space explains their thought process on their development, in very much an MTV cribs style. We would pre-record these demonstrations before recording the rest of the presentation to avoid repeating ourselves. We worked over a few hours adding in the content for the presentation, I will run over some of the main slides and our reasoning for them briefly.

- Slides transferred to Google Slides

- Transferring Keynote Slides to Google Slides

We had a slide just after the demonstration where we state what softwares we have used. We go on to discuss one individually and how they work with one another, so we thought it best to outline what we were using from the start.

- included pros + cons for transparency

Once again we included a pro’s and con’s section in this presentation. Before we had used this to compare A-Frame to AltSpace, but now we had chosen AltSpace solely, we used the pro’s and con’s section purely for transparency. We are exploring practicality on behalf of the client, so they should be informed of negatives as well as positives.

- refined user journey

We refined our user journey visual to show the simple, cyclical setup of our spaces. The portals made it really easy to do this, with the main room acting as a directory, and student spaces simply having a next or back option. We wanted to keep this as simple as possible as the audience attending could fall in any demographic.

- Means of implementation

We also had a slide which I would like to present discussing the implementation options. We have managed to dissolve this down to four possibilities. More than likely, more than one of these options will have to be used at the same time. But cross course collaboration is a possibility, partnering 3D modelling courses to help produce the spaces. Then we could give students lessons, this could be as broad as 3D modelling or as simple as adding the images to materials in Unity. Lessons is one such example of an option that would work best alongside another, like cross course collaboration example. As I have stated prior, I think the most realistic means is by producing a variety of templates, students could then choose the space which fits their needs most closely, adapting the space if they need to. This would also probably work best with students having lessons on how to add content to a Unity space. The final option is a 3D scanner, whereby students could scan 3D work into a space, or even produce a small model of their space, which they could scan and scale up digitally. I want to present this slide as I think it needs a clear, concise explanation and I think out of the group I can be the most selective with my word choice.

Of course we looked at a number of other slides including the branding, how we followed a user-centred approach as well as what would we liked to have done next, where I will discuss problems with the transparency in AltSpace and elements of my space. I think we are all really happy with the slides in the presentation, we should be able to cover a good range of content and use up the full 20 minutes without waffling. Visually also I think using the same gradient we used for the branding brings a nice consistency to it. Next, we had to record the demos before recording our voice-over of the slides. Recording the Demonstrations: So we decided we would be recording the demo’s and presentation in AltSpace. As I mentioned I was worried about the production quality we could achieve through this means. To avoid any inconsistencies in audio, I suggested that we all record our own audio from our iPhones. Synchronising the recordings didn't matter for our individual demo’s, as these would be recorded separately and then edited in, so all we had to do was press record and stop on iPhone voice memos. But for the slide portion of the presentation, to synchronise the audio I just followed the movies. I got everyone to press record then, ensuring I was playing out of everyones speakers, I clapped loudly so that it could be heard across all of the recordings. Then it was simply a case of matching the clap across the different audio files in post, once that was done we could easily cut different peoples audio in and out for their sections. This avoided any laggy audio and as we were all using Iphones, the audio was pretty consistent aside from any acoustic differences in our rooms. To record the Demo’s in our personal spaces, one person used Quicktime screen record, using their screen as though it were the camera, following round the hosts while they discussed their space. Anyone who wasn't talking or recording just interacted with the exhibits to add some realism. An example of this can be found below where I am recording Matty talking about his space. I think the outcome of these demo’s had a really laid back feeling which lent itself really well to the atmosphere we could feel in the showcase. Once we had recorded each others demo’s we uploaded them to our shared Google Drive so we could access all of the video and audio files easily in post.

- Demo Recording Example

Recording the Slides: When recording the voice over for the slides, as I have mentioned we used a clap and iPhone voice memos to produce synchronised audio. As we were presenting in AltSpace, as we wanted to have our avatars visible for that humanistic aspect, we needed to get the slides to work on the Media Player in Wills Shared Space. To do so, we had to paste a link from our google slides into AltSpaces Web Extension for its media player. In AltSpace I was able to click through the slides with a HUD connected to the Media Player. This all went a lot smoother for us than it did for Manuel thankfully. We had sectioned up the presentation in our last call and gone away and made some notes on what each of us would say. Will logged in to AltSpace on a second pc to set up as a still camera to record the presentation. From there, we stepped into view when it was our turn to talk.

- Still Camera View

Editing the Presentation: When it came to editing the presentation I suggested that me and Will both produce a version. My computer has been having a lot of trouble with rendering throughout this project, so I didn't want to put all of our eggs in one basket. So we worked together to produce our own versions. I was thankful I did suggest this as, when I rendered my version, one of the clips had audio but no video, thankfully Wills export was fine so we decided to use that one. As soon as this was done there was a strange aura in the call. We had spent hours together almost everyday for the past few weeks working on this project, and now all we had to do was upload it to YouTube and wait for the clients feedback. Honestly though, now I could see all of our work in one place in the presentation, I was really excited to hear what people had to say. It might have taken us a while to get going with this project but I think we have produced a really great response to the problem and in doing so, we have all delved deeper into our own 3D experiences than ever before.

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hiraethlion · 7 years ago

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Voltron Protocol

AIS (Altean Intelligence Service) agents Blue, Yellow and Green are members of Team Voltron, an elite team of the youngest agents to be out in the field in AIS history and with a perfect missions record. But when tragedy strikes the team at its core and a new leader comes into their close knit team, they must relearn how to work together against the Galra criminal empire who is poised on the brink of global nuclear war. Alone, without support and with secrets deep within the team that could tear them apart, Team Voltron must face the most dangerous mission of their lives.

Read the full prologue here

Prologue:

“We are out of time, Pink!”

A bearded man paced frantically along the platform as the approaching train slowed to a halt. The doors of the carriages hissed open and the occupants began spilling out like syrup, seeping around pillars and newsstands. Everyone was focused on getting to their own destination and relatively ignorant of the man with the white beard stressfully pressing his ear.

“Anytime now, Pink,” another, younger voice was heard over the com-link, “I can’t search for the currier until I have that name.”

“And you will have it, Green.” A female voice sounded, the tone otherwise occupied. “Just give me a tick.”

The bearded man pressed his lips. He was confident in his team. Faithfully so. Proudly so. Unwaveringly so. He checked his watch again. Quiznack. He was confident in his team. He was confident in his team. He was-

There were indistinct sounds of smashing and crunching with a few dull thuds. Pink’s voice spoke again, though not to the others joined in the com-link. It must have not turned off.

“ Who is carrying the files?” Her voice was clear and fearless. She expected to be answered. The man’s anxiety lessened a squeeze. Finally, things were getting underway.

There was a silence that was obviously unacceptable, then a cracking thud and a gasp.

“Who is the currier?”

The bearded man could hear the urgency in her words, but he also knew that, to the unfortunate victim she was interrogating, it would sound as hard as steel and twice as dangerous.

Though he had stopped his pacing, the bearded man lifted his cap and ran his fingers through his white hair, a visual image of the female’s veiled apprehension.

There was an agonizing half-second pause, and then –

“V-varkon!” a strained voice sputtered, “for the love of God!”

“Did you get that Green?” Pink asked, “I can ask him to spell it for you.” A slight lilt in her voice made her sound almost eager.

“White, you should have his face on your phone now.” Green’s voice was immediately responsive, almost cutting Pink off, much to the fortune of her victim.

A profile of a middle aged, potbellied man appeared on White’s phone. With a touch, the face was uploaded to a facial recognition scanner in his contact lens. The profiles of passers-by were scanned as quickly as White’s eyes took in their faces. After a few tense moments, where everyone on the coms held their breath, a profile lit up a match. Only his years of training kept White’s body from appearing anything but normal. Without another glance, he was on the move.

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charlesjohnson-mct · 5 years ago

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Early piloting

My thesis is exploring how my own blood can be analysed and interrogated through technology to produce artifact(s) that challenge people’s humanist understandings of their own materiality. While I find this exciting and cannot wait to get starting, I need ethics approval to work with my own blood. Itching to start piloting (experiments that will not be used in the thesis), I had the thought to use pigs blood, a material that you can buy from some butchers to use in food.

I went out to a butcher in Henderson to purchase a frozen tub for $6. These tubs were small and about the size of an ice hockey puck (I will refer to the sample as “the puck” from here). Being at home and not having ethics approval to work with such a material at university I had to use what I had on hand, which was my scanner on my home printer. I purchased some gloves and a LOT of disinfectant. There was no point in waiting around, so I placed the puck on the scanner and got to scanning.

Below are some of the results from the scans.

#002

#005

#008

These scans come out so much more incredible than I thought they would’ve. With 002 and 005 having been conducted with the lid of the scanner open and finally 008 pressing the lid down on the residue left over from the puck melting. You can see my hand on 002 & 005, since the puck’s surface was uneven, it kept sliding on the glass, so I had to hold it in place. However unpredictable, it doesn’t look bad and in my subsequent experiments, the shadow of my hand produced some interesting results.

These scans were heartwarming (pun intended) as this was the first confirmation that I was along an interesting and ‘correct’ path. It’s taken all of six months to come up with a concept, but now I could start to see my thoughts coming to fruition. The texture that was revealed in these scans is exciting, I can now work with this and continue to evolve the samples, to produce some (if I do say) amazingly fascinating results.

While in my thesis I plan to evolve the digital material alongside the physical material, this was the only product I had and did not (at this stage) have a separate fridge to keep the liquid samples in, so I put the puck back into the freezer.

I wanted to work specifically with scan 002, the texture is the highest quality among any of the scans conducted so far, which I thought would produce the most interesting results. I decided to convert the image into sound using an online tool I found which (I think) converts the luminosity values into a spectogram to produce a sound.

Here you can see how the tool takes the image (I chose to only sample the blood texture during the screenshot) and produces a 20kHz spectogram (this can be changed). The density (I think) refers to the “accuracy” that the scan conducts the analysis at. The default value for this is 4, but I experimented and my computer can handle 1, I haven’t tried decimal values yet. The sound once produced could be re-uploaded to visualize it. Below are some experiments with 002 using this tool, the frequencies and the densities provided in the description.

All sound is hosted on Soundcloud with links provided.

Full Image 4 density, 20kHz:

https://soundcloud.com/charles-johnson-84694751/002-full-image-4-density-20khz

Full Image 1 density, 20kHz:

https://soundcloud.com/charles-johnson-84694751/002-full-image-1-density-20khz

Cropped Image 1 density, 20kHz:

https://soundcloud.com/charles-johnson-84694751/002-close-up-1-density-20khz

Cropped Image 1 density, 30kHz:

https://soundcloud.com/charles-johnson-84694751/002-close-up-1-density-30khz

Each experiment was unique and what I found through doing such an experiment was that where the blood had melted (highlighted in the below image) formed a downward curve in the center of the image, making a pseudo flange, which if you listen closely you can hear in all of the samples.

The highlighted artifact that produced the effect

[The image’s levels have been adjusted to see it clearer]

I also attempted to use the spectogram image generated in the tool and produce a sound from that image to see what would happen, this yielded some pretty interesting results and what I found was that there was quite a lot of lost data.

Re-uploaded Full Image 1 density, 20kHz:

https://soundcloud.com/charles-johnson-84694751/002-full-image-re-uploaded-1-density-20khz

What I found from this, like I said was a lot of lost data, you can see in the visualization, the data seems to be repeated, but at a much lower quality, the texture is almost invisible. I talked with Clinton about this and he suggested I look at a Macintosh program called Sapling, which explodes sound into tiny fragments and then repeats the process with those fragments. I don’t currently have access to a Mac, but will try this program as soon as I get the chance to as this has parallels with what I just attempted with the re-upload.

This is where my piloting has stopped for now, but I do plan on uploading the sounds either into rhino or processing to produce a 3D model from the sound. Then I plan to cast the form and use the same blood I analysed and put it into the mold maybe using resin. If I can get this done and present it to the ethics board, I think I’ll have a pretty strong conceptual footing to go forward with my own blood.

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healthyworthyofficial · 5 years ago

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Bizarre ‘surgical masks’ that look like your face aimed at coronavirus-fearing iPhone owners

DESIGNS for a breathing mask that apparently allows wearers to unlock their mobiles while shielding themselves from deadly viruses have surfaced online. The bizarre gear will strap over your nose and mouth and feature an image of the lower half of your face so it can "work with facial recognition software".

Designs for a medical mask that apparently works with facial recognition software have surfaced onlineCredit: faceidmasks Sales of medical masks have gone through the roof in recent weeks is response to the coronavirus outbreak, which has so far killed more than 1,700 people with 71,000 cases globally. The masks supposedly protect users by blocking infectious particles but there are doubts over how effective they are. One issue facing mask wearers is that they render facial recognition software on smartphones – such as Apple's Face ID – useless. The technology typically scans minute details of your face, including the measurements of your mouth or nose, to verify your identity before unlocking your phone.

Designer Danielle Baskin said her service will slap an images of your mug onto masks with an N95 filtration rating – those typically used by hospital doctorsCredit: Twitter Now a San Francisco-based designer claims to have found a way around the issue with a new mask that "looks just like you". Danielle Baskin, a "product designer and visual artist", according to her website, said her service slaps the images onto masks with an "N95" filtration rating – kit typically worn by hospital staff. "Made this service that prints your face on an N95 mask," she wrote on Twitter on Saturday. "You can protect people from viral epidemics while still being able to unlock your phone."

One issue facing mask wearers is that they render facial recognition software on smartphones – such as Apple's Face ID – uselessCredit: faceidmasks Danielle included a link to a website that explains more about the product, which isn't available to buy yet. Customers are encouraged to upload a pictures of their face to the site before the process begins. "After uploading your face, we use computational mapping to convert your facial features into an image printed onto the surface of N95 surgical masks," the website states. "You can use your mask for everyday life as a barrier for airborne particle droplets."

Danielle claims to have fixed issues mask wearers have with facial recognition techCredit: faceidmasks It's not yet clear if the website is a stunt. A section on the page addresses whether or not the whole thing is a jokes, stating: "Yes. No. We're not sure. Viruses are not a joke." Danielle's masks will apparently cost $40 (£30) when they go on sale. It's not clear when, or where, they'll hit shelves. The website states they won't go on sale "while there's still a global mask shortage".

On Twitter, Danielle said: "To all those inquiring: No, I don't have plans to produce these *during* the global mask shortage. There's a waitlist and no launch date." Recent demand for medical masks has sparked nationwide shortages in China and beyond as panicked residents flock to pharmacies. There are also doubts over whether the masks would even fool your phone's facial recognition scanners. Technology like Apple's Face ID scans the depth of your facial features, which the flat material of a mask cannot replicate. Where did coronavirus start? From bats to snakes - the theories on deadly virus' origins The killer coronavirus was spread from bats to snakes to humans, experts have claimed. An outbreak of the virus is understood to have started at an open air fish market in the Chinese city of Wuhan - which has since been put in lockdown after 25 people died and more than 600 people were infected globally. A new study published in the China Science Bulletin this week claimed that the new coronavirus shared a strain of virus found in bats. Previous deadly outbreaks of SARS and Ebola were also believed to have originated in the flying mammal. Experts had thought the new virus wasn't capable of causing an epidemic as serious as those outbreaks because its genes were different. But this latest research appeared to prove otherwise - as scientists scrabble to produce a vaccine. In a statement, the researchers said: “The Wuhan coronavirus’ natural host could be bats … but between bats and humans there may be an unknown intermediate." Meanwhile, scientists at Peking University also claim that the deadly virus was passed to humans from bats - but say it was through a mutation in snakes. The researchers said that the new strain is made up of a combination of one that affects bats and another unknown coronavirus. They believe that combined genetic material from both bats and this unknown strain picked up a protein that allows viruses bind to certain host cells - including those of humans. After analysing the genes of the strains the team found that snakes were susceptible to the most similar version of the coronavirus. It meant that they likely provided a "reservoir" for the viral strain to grow stronger and replicate. Snakes are sold at the Huanan Seafood Market in central Wuhan and may have jumped to other animals before passing to humans, they claim. But a senior researcher at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, who asked not to be named, said the findings should be treated with caution. He told the South China Morning Post: “It is based on calculation by a computer model. “Whether it will match what happens in real life is inconclusive. “The binding protein is important, but it is just one of the many things under investigation. There may be other proteins involved.” The expert believes that the new strain was an RNA virus, meaning that its mutation speed was 100 times faster than that of a DNA virus such as smallpox. On Twitter, Danielle added: "I'm testing the facial recognition reliability across devices. But what if you just want to be recognised by your friends?" Described by the World Health Organisation (WHO) as "public enemy number one", Coronavirus, now known as 2019-nCoV, is rapidly spreading across the globe. If you are healthy, you only need to wear a mask if you are taking care of a person with suspected coronavirus infection, according to WHO. Masks are only effective when used in combination with frequent hand-cleaning with alcohol-based hand rub or soap and water. Read the full article

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eldritchland · 5 years ago

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Spark One - A short sci-fi horror/thriller

“Prepare for landing.” The capsule’s automated system said in a sterile mechanical tone.

John tightened his grip on the harness holding him in place. The Spark One, the pod launched from the Promethean to carry two pilots to the surface of Mars, was state of the art. Boasting more protective gear than any other man-made lander, there was very little to fear. But the jostling still made his stomach turn. Wearing the fifteen layers of his space suit helped a little, though he knew that nothing would save them if anything truly disastrous were to occur.

Cassie, his partner, looked to be having about the same trouble. The fingers of her suit were locked in a death grip to her harness and from the visor he saw that her eyes were clamped shut. They had traveled over one hundred and ninety miles from Earth just to orbit the red planet in the Promethean. With the rest of the crew, twenty in total, they were the first humans to gaze upon the great red monster with their own eyes. And winning the luck of the draw meant that Cassie and John would be the first humans to set foot on what might be the first step for mankind to inhabit a new world.

With the completion of the hibernation pods and the ionic engines, the trip seemed to only take a year, though much longer than that had passed on Earth. Those that had to bid farewell to their children did so knowing that, if their mission was a success, then their grandchildren might one day experience what life is on an entirely new planet. A new home.

With a jolt, the shaking came to an abrupt halt. “Landing successful. Welcome to Mars.” The robotic voice said from the speaker on the console.

“You did it!” Was the enthusiastic cheer over the comms.

“We did it!” Cassie agreed cheerfully, throwing her arms up.

“Systems are good. Landing gear secured. How do we look from up there?” John said, checking the monitors. The Spark One, built for safety and functionality, had no windows. Instead half a dozen monitors, and hundreds of sensors, showed the outside world.

“Like a grain of sand at a beach.” Evans, one of the engineers, said in a lighthearted tone. His laughter was cut short as his mic was disconnected.

“One mile off from initial LZ, systems and weather conditions perfect. You look like a ray of sunshine from up here.” The more serious tone of Captain Dane cut in. The most senior of the crew, she was truly the driving force behind the operation. With the famous Captain Dane in charge of the mission, funding came pouring in to get the Promethean to go beyond the moon.

“Releasing harness now.” John said, unbuckling himself and letting the cage-like to apparatus rise. Cassie followed suit after checking her own suit’s systems.

The bulky spacesuits had not changed too much, being only slightly thinner with a powered exoskeleton to aid in carrying the weight of the electronics and cannisters of oxygen. Though the variation that was currently being worn had only one tank, allowing only four hours away from the ship. Moving towards the rear of the capsule, John and Cassie stepped into a separate chamber, sealing the door behind them.

“Entering standby.” The robotic voice said from the speakers in the containment area. The capsule was designed to run at full power only when at least one astronaut was present in the main cabin. The advanced sensors would pick up the device attached inside the arm of the suit and quickly begin booting all operations. Except for a few life support systems, all other major systems were put on hold to conserve power.

“Spark One to Promethean, this is John Roan with Cassandra Moore, we are preparing to step onto the surface of Mars.” John’s heart began to beat rapidly. The excitement crept into his voice as he nodded to Cassie, who gripped the outer door’s locking mechanism. Unlatching a container bolted to the wall, he retrieved a bag, checking the plastic-coated clasps before rejoining his companion.

“Promethean to Spark One, we read you loud and clear.” Captain Dane said through the intercom built into the helmet. “Weather conditions are optimal, with a small storm located fifty miles to the East.” There was a brief silence. “Our communications will be cut out as we reposition ourselves for extraction on the return course and the Spark One is put into hibernation. You will have two hours to return to the Promethean before the window to return home closes.”

Taking a moment to set a timer for an hour and a half on the pad attached to his wrist, John nodded to Cassie. “Bring me back a Martian.” The voice of Evans crackled in once again.

“If all goes well, we’ll all be Martians on our next trip home.” Cassie said, unlocking the last of the seals on the door.

“Good luck down there.” Captain Dane said. “We will see you in two hours. Promethean out.”

The silence that followed allowed John to hear the pounding of his heart. Making sure to activate the camera in his helmet, he gave a nod to Cassie. With a strain, she pressed hard against the door.

There was a pop as the air seal was broken. The bright natural light flooded the airlock and overtook the artificial bulbs. With an audible gasp, Cassie carefully began to descend the steps. The automated system had extended them outward and dug into the dirt to act as an additional anchor.

As they stepped onto the surface, the first humans to stand on Mars, John and Cassie looked about in wonder. A vast red waste stretching far into every direction, with giant mountains reaching into the horizon.

The contrasting image of the Spark One, an angular gray beast bringing an alien visage to the beauty of the world, was almost shocking. With no windows and matte coloring, and the engines hidden below, it resembled a monolith from one of the older sci-fi movies that John used to watch as a child.

“It’s awe-inspiring.” Cassie said, looking out towards a range of mountains touching the base of the sun. Her voice came over the short-range comms and jostled John out of his own stupor.

Looking down at his wrist, John began to walk. “We have one hour and twenty minutes. Let’s get the samples before the sightseeing.”

“Half a mile North, retrieve data, check rover.” Cassie said, beginning her own trek.

“Yes. When you find the rover, report in.”

Prior to departing the Promethean, there were two clear objectives from the United Nations Space Exploration council, or UNSE. Retrieve a sample from a survey site that was studied prior to the Spark One’s departure and find the malfunctioning rover. After discovering an outcropping of what looked to be a type of metal, the rover’s circuits overloaded in transit, and all communications were cut during upload. The final transmission was a ping of the last known location.

The Spark One’s guidance systems had managed to land the craft as close to both sites as possible. Cassie would reach the rover location first and begin the data extraction, while John would attempt to chip away at the metal outcropping it had discovered and bring a piece back for further analysis.

The various sensors stitched into the suit’s layers monitored everything from oxygen and water levels to heart rate and body temperature. The crunch of the dirt and rocks beneath his heavy boots filled the space between gusts of wind. The microphones were the most expensive and well-crafted that the United Governments could craft and made this desolate world sound more alive than the scanners could have ever done.

Though the long-range communications to the Promethean were down in an effort to conserve power, the short burst communication devices mounted inside the suits were fully functional. The low power Spark operated as a radio tower between the two, allowing for communication for miles as well as through storms in case of emergencies.

“It’s just so beautiful.” Cassie’s voice came from the speaker in John’s helmet.

Taking a moment to look around, he sighed. The vast red-brown waste stretched on forever in every direction, with giant mountains dominating the horizon in many places. The sky, too, was a dull brown in color. Visually it was the furthest thing that John would ever call beautiful. Though symbolically, the first step on an entirely new world for the human race, and what may be the salvation of many, he did agree that the monumental achievement was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in his lifetime.

“It is.” John agreed stoically. “We are the first step on the way to a new home.”

“Always so serious.” Cassie chided. Always optimistic and happy, her personality did not seem like one that would have been a fit for this mission. Though she was unmatched when it came to the electronics on board the Promethean and Spark.

John, a mineralogist, preferred to keep to himself mostly. Always an introvert, he liked his small collection of metals and notes more than joining the others for social hours on their voyage. Though he was more than willing to admit that upon arrival in orbit around Mars, he had begun to open up more. The excitement of their milestone was too much to not affect him as it did the others.

Walking in silence for a time, John took another look around. The slight crater that they landed in was blocking the worst of the winds. If one of the storms that was wreaking havoc across the surface were to change directions, their only option would be to seek shelter in the Spark One. With the Promethean turning to prepare for the return to Earth, the window of opportunity to collect the data and samples was limited for several years. Even with the new drive engine, the dangers of space travel and commitment needed were massive.

“I think I see the rover in the distance.” Cassie’s voice cut through his daze suddenly. “Tracks look like they’ve been swept by a storm. Approaching now.”

“Understood. Continuing towards mineral outcropping.” John responded, picking up his pace a bit. With the exoskeleton hugging his body, he was capable of moving faster across the foreign landscape. The fear of falling and breaching his suit kept his pace more controlled.

One hour should be long enough to collect the data and sample and return to the Spark One for extraction. John wanted to make sure that they were ready to leave when the time came. The Spark’s startup did not take long, though the window for error, however small, was still present in his mind. The years of science fiction movies and all the things that can go wrong always seemed to come to the forefront of his mind during times like these.

A sudden metallic clink caught his attention. Looking down, John noticed what appeared to be a small lump of metal at the tow of his boot. Small enough to blend into the rocks around it, he had not seen it on his approach.

“I think I found something.” He said, reaching down to pick up the lump. Turning it over in his hand, he furrowed his brow. “It…it looks…melted.” John’s voice quavered slightly as he spoke.

“Melted?” Cassie asked, her own voice sounding strained. “Like from a storm?”

Holding the metal up to his visor, John shook his head. After a second, he remembered that Cassie was not actually with him. “No. The air is too thin to produce lightning capable of this.” Placing the object into a small bag and sealing it, John noticed that his hands were trembling. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. “It might be a piece from a probe that burned through the atmosphere. We did send dozens of them before the Promethean entered range of the planet.”

“Probably. That would make sense. I see the rover clearly now.” There was a moment of silence. “It looks like it may have fallen over.”

“Copy that. I will continue to the mineral site. Keep me updated.” Patting the pouch that held the small melted sphere, John began walking again. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Out of the three dozen probes that were mapping the planet, they had lost a few. The odds that they had come down near the landing zone of the Spark One and the rover however…

Putting the thought from his head, John kept walking. It was not long before he came across a strange sight. Sticking out of the dirt was an off-color intrusion. It was sharp and irregular and almost resembled a mockery of a tree. Brushing away a layer of dust, John attempted to discern more about the metal before removing a cutting tool from the bag he carried.

“I found the outcropping. Taking a sample now.” He said, removing a titanium saw. He had several tools and sample bags with him, unsure of how much effort it would take to secure a piece.

“Something is wrong.” Cassie said over the sound of metal grinding against metal. “The rover is…” her voice cut out. Causing John to cease sawing. “…most claw marks…” before he could respond her voice cut in again.

“Say again, Cassie.” John said, looking around.

Glancing at his wrist, the timer read 55:25 as the seconds ticked down. Over thirty minutes had passed since they left the Spark One.

“The rover is destroyed. Almost ripped ope—” her voice cut out.

Placing the saw against the metal once more, John began to saw frantically. “We have an issue with the communications systems. Cassandra, if you can hear me, we have a comms issue.” The panic rising in his chest was a tightening feeling. A comms issue would mean either a system malfunction in the Spark One, or a storm had turned on them. Not to mention what he managed to hear from Cassie.

Luckily his saw was making progress and he did not have to attempt the plasma torch

It was several minutes of sawing before his radio crackled again. “John, is that you?”

Stopping to look around, he saw only the rocks and the mountains about. “Negative. I am at the outcropping.” He responded.

“I see you—” Static cut out Cassie’s voice. John kept looking back at the direction he had come from, squinting his eyes in an attempt to see further. But he did not see Cassie anywhere. “…moving so fast!” The voice through the speaker had an edge to it. Almost panicked.

“What are you seeing, Cassandra?” John went back to sawing, constantly looking over his shoulder. Paranoia was digging at him now. Ever since he found the small metal ball, something had not felt right. And hearing Cassie’s voice was no comfort.

That was until there was silence. The frantic motion of his sawing took his mind momentarily from the passing time. The increasing desperation to collect the sample overtaking him. Soon enough, the saw passed through and a small chunk was free. Placing the sample into a bag and securing it tightly, he placed it and the saw in the bag before shouldering it.

“Cassie?” He asked, realizing that she had been silent. Starting to move towards the Spark One again, he scanned the distance. “Cassandra do you copy?”

Nothing.

Moving faster, John picked up his pace. The pad on his wrist read 45:10. He did not notice how quickly time had passed. Almost an hour since leaving the Spark. Two abnormalities on his end, counting the metal crop. And whatever Cassandra was experiencing.

A sudden burst of static through his helmet caused him to stumble. The sound was horrid, like thousands of empty channels assaulting his ears at once. Hitting the buttons on the pad attached to his arm in an attempt to silence the radio proved fruitless. Just as suddenly as it came, the noise disappeared. The sudden silence causing his ears to ring.

Taking a moment to shake his head and wanting to rub his head, John looked about. It seemed that he had turned himself around somehow. In the stumbling and attempts to shut off the communications, he was facing the metallic outcropping again. Looking upwards in the sun’s light, no longer distracted by the small metal ball, he noticed what seemed like a small shimmer. From atop one of the mountains looked to be a structure. Ripped open on the peak and spilling its contents down the mountain. A giant leviathan like thing, all metal, yet organic looking. Something that was reaching out towards him. Its maw gaping wide.

Turning quickly, John began to run. His helmet camera would have recorded the sight, and there was time to review it later. The position would be saved abord the Spark One and Promethean. For now, he wanted to leave. He wanted to be in the comfort of the walls of the capsule.

Before he knew it, he was running. The vitals on the side of his visor were lighting up orange as his heart rate climbed. The monstrous structure behind him loomed heavy in his mind. Each possibility made him try to pick up his pace even more. By the time he settled on the thought that maybe it was another ship, a failed experiment, he was sprinting as fast as the exoskeleton would allow.

He was back at the Spark One quickly, his legs burning badly. The warnings signs in his visor saying that his heart rate had climbed too high. The number 189 was flashing wildly, gone from orange to a light red. Much higher than would be safe for his age, John turned in place, looking about.

The looming monster that had chased him was gone, blending back into the mountains in the distance. The timer now read 38:03. “Cassandra, can you hear me?” Having moved closer to the Spark One, he hoped that the radio would be more receptive. There was just the sound of an open channel. “Cassandra, please report in.”

Silence.

Looking around again, now breathing heavily, John let his shoulders sag. He took a moment to take a sip from the metal straw that was built into his helmet. The two liters of water that the suit supplied was meant to last the trip, and he had been too preoccupied with everything to focus on hydration.

“Cassandra, I need you to respond.” His voice was full of desperation as he looked towards the location of the rover.

When no response came, John checked the time again.

37:11

Walking to the capsule, he opened the door. As the familiar lights greeted him, he pulled the door shut and after a second, twisted the lock tight. Being surrounded by metal walls calmed him to no end. Watching the heart rate drop in his visor back into an acceptable level, John returned the back to the wall. Securing it tightly and closing the panel, he double checked his work before looking around.

He noticed it then. There was dirt on the grate floor. Much more than he brought in with him. The trail led to the door to the inner part of the capsule. Cassie must have made it back before him. It looked as if the outer lock had been turned slightly, likely when the door was pulled closed. Part of the safety measure composed of autolocks.

With a sigh of relief, he made for the door. A sudden, frenzied pounding on the door leading outside froze him mid-step.

“Let me in!” A voice cried out. It was coming from his helmet.

“Cassandra?” John looked to the door. He did not know what answer he was expecting.

“Let me in! There’s something else here!” The female voice yelled.

Moving towards the door, he gripped the locking mechanism and started to pull.

“Don’t do it!”

Freezing in place, John’s eyes darted to the symbol at the corner of his vision. It was a speaker symbol with the letters SO-C. Looking to the door behind him, John tried to grasp at understanding. The voice that called out to him was Cassie’s as well.

“What the hell is happening?” He asked, taking a step back so that he stood between both doors.

There was another hiss of static as both speaker symbols fought for dominance in his vision. The outer shell acted as a barrier between the inner capsule and the outside world, so opening one door meant that the other would be inoperable until fully secured and decompressed.

“Something attacked me.” The Cassie from outside said.

“It damaged my suit.” The Cassie from inside said.

Hearing the same voice from two channels was disorienting and John had to take a moment to hold the sides of his helmet. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he said, hitting the mute option.

35:00.

In thirty minutes, they would need to be starting the lift off sequence to make it back to the Promethean. The Spark One still used old propulsion systems, the new engines being far too large to fit on such a capsule. In thirty minutes, communications with the ship would return. But by then he would need to be inside the capsule.

“Cassandra can you activate the distress beacon?” John said, unmuting the link to SO-C.

There was a long, agonizing silence. Her voice finally came through the static. “My equipment is damaged. But I’ll try.”

There was an audible banging on the door leading outside. A fist pounding into the metal. Cursing and jumping, John moved further from the door. Looking down at his wrist, he thought about that. If her suit’s electronics were damaged, then she would have issues bringing the Spark out of low power mode. Not impossible, though much more difficult.

Swapping channels, John looked to the door leading outside. He had praised the design when it was presented. Sleek and safe, a monument to the future. Now he was cursing the lack of visibility. And no matter how high tech they tried to make the Spark One, the only viewing platform was inside the main capsule.

“Tell me what happened.” He said, double-checking to make sure that the correct channel was muted.

The banging stopped suddenly. “Please, let me in.” Cassie’s voice came over the intercom again.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but none of this is right. Tell me what happened out there. From the beginning.”

Another moment of silence over the radio.

“I found the rover. It looked like it was torn apart.” Cassie’s voice returned, strained. Almost desperate. “The drives were gone. Open the door.” Another weak knock.

An SOS symbol came to life in the corner of John’s visor. The sound of the door to the inner capsule attempting to open made John spin on his heel. The bar holding the door shut jostled, but the safety lock was secure. A banging from the other side erupted in a short burst.

Swapping his comms back to the inner capsule, John flinched as Cassie’s voice flooded him. “Do you hear me? What’s happening?”

“Stop, don’t do that.” John raised his hand in an attempt to make the lock stop moving. “Just give me a second!”

“I got the SOS up.”

He looked at his arm. 25:01

Had that much time really passed since he last checked? “I just need a minute.”

Opening the first channel again, his helmet was suddenly flooded.

“It was coming so fast,” the voice from outside was saying.

“We need to get out of here,” the voice from inside was saying.

For a moment, they were all connected. Hearing each other, both Cassie’s fell silent. “It’s that thing.” The outside Cassie said. “It has been studying us through the rover. That’s why it took my computer!”

“Don’t listen to it! I managed to outrun it and locked myself inside trying to contact you.” The inside Cassie said.

Working to separate the channels again, John shook his head. “This is not happening. This was not supposed to happen.” Both fell silent and he was alone again. Wracking his brain, he thought about the possibilities. Taking deep breathes, he tried to calm himself when he saw his heart rate climbing again.

Thinking of the possibilities again, he considered. If something had happened to Cassie’s wrist identification computer, then the Spark One would have trouble initiating startup without intervention from the Promethean. The SOS will contact the ship once they come back into range. Captain Dane will immediately call the Spark One back using the Emergency Remote Intervention procedure. The AI will guide them back to the docking bay and then he will be in range to warn them of what was happening from the outer shell.

His issue, however, was that the inner capsule had the life support systems. Checking his oxygen meter, he saw that he had an hour and a half of air left. And on takeoff the outer shell, though had the wall panels secure, was not equipped for a human to be present during transit. He would be thrown around during takeoff even if he tried to hold on. By the time they arrived back on the Promethean, he would have been bashed around while the Spark One left the atmosphere, low oxygen to have to wait out the decontamination process, and risk freezing to death.

But if he opened the door to the inner capsule and it was something…alien, then what would happen? Opening his mic to the outside voice, he took a deep breath. “What did it look like?” He asked.

“Please, let me in.” The outside Cassie said again. The repeating begging was digging at him each time he heard her desperate voice.

“Tell me what it was!” John’s patience was nearing its end. He kept checking the time, watching the seconds tick away.

21:46.

There were a few seconds of silence before Cassie began to speak again. “It looked…human…but it crawled along, dragging its back half. It was so fast. And huge…larger than a normal human if it could stand. I think it was hurt…it could not catch me because it needed its front half to move.” Her words were slow and collected, trying to remain calm.

“Okay. Give me one minute.” He muted her channel and looked towards the inner door. Turning the communications back on for the inside Cassie, he asked, “What happened out there?”

19:19.

“John, we need to leave. Now. Before it gets in.” The same desperation was coming from this channel as well. Whatever was mimicking Cassandra was doing an incredible job.

“First, tell me what happened.” A glance to the timer. “Quickly!”

“The rover was…torn apart. All of the data drives were gone. The communications began to fade, and I thought I saw you approaching from the distance. But…it wasn’t…it was something…terrible. It crawled so fast across the dirt that when I was able to see it clearly, I just stood there…in shock. Before I knew it…i-it was on me. Grabbing at me. It tore at the suit and I was barely able to escape. I think I was faster than it expected. I tried to contact you!”

17:03.

Their slow, deliberate responses were eating away time. Their voices were the same level of anxious and their choice of words were far too similar. His heart rate began to climb again. What if he opened the door to something horrid that dragged him away? If it knew about the Spark One, it could use him to get to the Promethean. It could mimic him, too.

Remembering the massive beast that lay gutted at the metal outcropping, he began to form an idea. If it was a ship, one that crashed, then this survivor would crawl if it was injured. But could it learn their language so fast? From one rover? John did not know. He supposed it could have studied a probe as well. Maybe even have been studying them on Earth. The rover did not see the huge thing when it scanned the area. Just the small piece. Maybe that’s why it needed to gut the rover. To reclaim the knowledge. To draw us out.

15:53.

More knocking from outside.

Trying to access the long-range communications from his pad, John sighed. The walls were too thick to properly connect with the computer from here. Whoever designed the Spark One was the biggest idiot that John could think of. Someone that should have been tossed into the Australian wildfire decades ago. Instead they grew up to design such a shitty capsule and cost John his life!

His oxygen was dropping faster as his panic grew. He would need to reconnect with the inner chamber’s life support before the SOS was picked up. If he let Cassie in, maybe they could arm themselves. If the thing was wounded, they might be able to detain or kill it. But what if he let the thing in instead. Could he handle it? Something strong enough to rip apart a suit of high-quality nano mesh fabric and tear apart a one-ton rover? No, it would rip him apart, he knew. In such a confined space, there was no running.

13:00.

He worked his brain hard. There had to be a way to determine the right choice. But it would still all come down to a guess. A guess that would cost him his life. And not just his life. Cassie’s, as well. Maybe even everyone onboard the Promethean. And if it got back to Earth? What could it do there with the most advanced ship and dangerous engine system that mankind had ever dreamed of?

12:30.

Opening the channel to outside Cassie, he listened. “Let me in! Please! Don’t leave me here! Let me in!”

Swapping to the capsule, “Please, lets get out of here! Before it gets in! Let’s go!”

11:45.

Muting the channels, John thought about how he could open both doors. If he could unlatch the inner door and quickly try to open the outer, maybe he could get them both to release. And then him and Cassie could figure it out from there. But no, the system would not allow it. The inner door would slam locked the second he began to undo the lock leading outside. Even in a low power mode, safety took priority. Plus, he might damage the systems. If the life support went down, he would be dead before entering the Promethean.

11:00.

Suddenly, it occurred to him. Setting himself between the two doors, he looked from one to the other. His life hung on a bet. A gamble. He had one question that he wanted to know the answer to. Opening the channel to the outside Cassie, he interrupted her pleas to be let inside. “What is my name?” He asked.

The banging from outside stopped. There was silence. Watching his heart rate at the corner of his vision, he worked to calm himself. In the sudden silence, it was difficult to hear over the pounding in his chest.

“Please, let me in.” Cassie cried out.

Taking another steadying breath, John simply repeated himself. “What is my name?” It was the only thing that he could think of.

The rover would not have any of their own personal data on it. And he had only said Cassandra’s name to each of them. The cannel was one way when the inner capsule Cassie had said his name. So, if it was Cassie outside, then she should at least be able to tell him his own name. And as the silence grew long, he knew he asked the right question.

10:20.

A sudden, hard slam against the door made John stumble backwards. He slipped on the grate flooring and managed to catch himself on the door behind him. Turning quickly, he worked at the latch on the door.

“Let me in!” The voice came over the headset, no longer Cassie’s. It was metallic and harsh. A mimicry of what it once was. The sound of heavy thuds hammering on the door filled the room. “Let me in!” It screamed.

John reached down and muted the channel. Pulling the lock, he himself began to pound on the door. There was a pop as the seal was broken, and the capsule door slid open. Falling forward, John crawled inside.

Cassie was standing there, her suit torn down through multiple layers, the circuits exposed on her arm hanging like tendons. Together they pushed the door closed and twisted the lock. Moving fast, John raised his arm and began the Spark One’s boot sequence. The accent lighting faded as the main LED’s came to life. The row of monitors started up, lines of numbers filling the screens.

“Initiating start procedure.” The AI voice said through the intercoms in the capsule.

9:46.

Cassie took her seat, buckling herself in and pulling on her safety harness. John took a step for his seat but paused. He looked back at the door leading out, hoping that whatever was outside could not get in. Bringing up the interface, he fully engaged the autolocks and activated emergency mode. The lights turned a deep red and began to flash. Along with the SOS beacon, emergency mode would send a signal to the Promethean for immediate pickup.

“Emergency mode activated.”

Moving to his seat, John began strapping himself in. Small ports built into the frame of the chair connected with his suit and began to remove the carbon dioxide and replenish his oxygen supply. Pulling the cage down and locking himself into place, John began working the controls frantically. The Spark One took time to boot properly and the engines needed to warm up to safely begin the takeoff process. With emergency mode on, the Spark One would prioritize the life support systems and the engines before any other.

8:33.

Working at the controls, John tried to bring up the sensors above the door. “Can we get the cameras up?” He asked, glancing at Cassie.

“Cameras are considered non vital systems.” She said, tapping away at a keyboard. “Lets just try to get the engine online and take off. Maybe fry it on the way.”

Nodding in agreement, he instead checked on that. With the AI taking control, there was very little for him to do. He instead worked on bringing the long-range communications back up. “This is John Wadsworth,” he began.

“Outer lock malfunction detected.” The AI voice cut him off.

Feeling his heart sink as he saw his heart rate climb was a strange thing.

7:27.

“Oh my god it’s getting in!” Cassie’s voice was full of panic.

Agreeing with her silently, John hammered at the controls. A malfunction did not mean that the door was open. Simply that the lock was not fully secure. Or there was a tiny breach. Or a large one.

“John Wadsworth to Promethean, are you there? Captain Dane, do you read me?” He called to the microphone in his helmet. “Please answer me Julia!”

There was a cackle of static on the other end. A high-pitched scream took over the intercoms. Flinching and attempting to cover his ears over the helmet, John looked around. All of the monitors seemed to be fine, more than halfway through their startup. Within a minute the engines would be online, and they could fire them up.

Cassie had given up on whatever she was working on, instead gripping her harness tight.

6:19.

The electronic scream began to warble out slowly, turning into a ululating moan. It had gotten through to the long-range channel. It was not only breaching the door but also their systems. Could it interrupt the startup sequence? What if it halted the launch?

“Outer door breach detected. Sealing inner capsule. Critical malfunction detected.” The AI continued with its discouraging voice.

5:40.

A sudden bang on the door made them both jump. Cassie screamed in terror as John’s head whipped about. It was inside. It was working at the latch now. Whatever it had done to get through the outer door had damaged the lock to critical levels. Did it have tools? John had not even considered that.

Feeling the panic set in, he noticed that his vision blurred. The tears in his eyes made the numbers on the screens blend together as he struggled to read. As another loud bang rang through the capsule, John shut his eyes tight.

A sudden lurch forced his head back. When he opened his eyes, he saw all the screens had turned a dark orange. The remote signal from the Promethean had been engaged and the emergency system override had been accepted. As the Spark One’s engine began to fire, John reached for the controls.

4:00.

Trying to enter in a final command, the system locked his console. “This is Captain Dane of the Promethean, do you read me?” A lifesaving voice cut through the chaos.

“We read you!” Cassie was shouting.

“Captain Dane!” John yelled over the sound of a series of ferocious metal on metal sounds. “Shed the outer layer of the Spark One! Drop the shell!”

“What is happening?” Captain Dane asked over a cacophony of voices and alarms.

“Do it now!”

A brief silence over the comms as the Spark One rumbled upwards. “Emergency procedure accepted. Captain Julia Dane, P-001 override accepted. Shedding non-essential housing.” The AI said calmly.

With a jolt, the capsule shook violently. After several minutes of shaky flight and flashing lights, all was calm. The suddenness of it following such discord was unsettling. John kept turning his head to look at the door, waiting to hear more of the pounding. When none came, he sighed in the most relief that he had ever felt in his life. The Spark One had breached the atmosphere of Mars and was on course to be picked up by the Promethean.

Without the outer layer the samples would be lost, but so would, hopefully, be whatever was trying to get in. John leaned back into his chair, letting his arms fall. He had not known how tightly he was gripping the harness until now. All of his muscles were tight and cramped and his head pounded.

“We made—” Cassie started.

An alarm cut her off and caused them both to jump. Looking about, John raised his arm with a slight smile.

0:00.

The End

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awkwardtimezone · 8 years ago

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Paging Dr. Bujare (Odolys/Laz’ab)

((Ooooooooooold log from last year I meant to upload forever ago. Following his recovery from exile, Laz’ab seeks out renowned doctor and cyberneticist, Dr. Bujare, on Nar Shaddaa. Image by @artofdel))

Lower District C, or as it was more commonly referred to: the Market Sector, was one of Nar Shaddaa’s most prominent and popular trade hubs. Buildings piled high on top of each other, piercing through the smog in several distinct layers of activity all built around a power core that serviced whole sections of the city-moon. Like a beehive constantly swarming with activity, this hive boasted everything from illegal fights and dodgy clubs, to the more mundane--speeder vendors, droid mechanics, shophouses and kiosks, butchers, a florist, a herbalist, tailors, general stores, even Jawa peddlers attempting to hawk their junk on street corners.

It had also become a popular haunt for bounty hunters and wannabe-hardasses thanks to the BBA office and firearms vendors nearby. So it was perhaps for that reason that the doctor’s clinic had been established on the upper levels.

As night fell and the relative safety and comfort of sunlight gave way to bruised skies of purple and red, the denizens of the streets flocked back into the safety of their houses. Some shops closed with dignity, others had long been left in states of disarray, home now to spice dealers and junkies passed out in their own piss and vomit. Despite these difficulties two neon signs remained resolute in the dark--one a glaring, cyan-coloured syringe that flickered frantically but stubbornly refused to go out. The other a noodle bar.

This was the landscape Chief Sorvik stepped into, broken gravel and shards of glass crunching underfoot. Behind him a cloaked figure followed, hood pulled up over his head and one hand never straying far from the lightsaber at his side. Despite the shadows cast across the poorly illuminated streets and over his face, the Sith Lord’s corrupted eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

“You’re sure this is the place?” the figure croaked as they rounded another corner and disrupted several homeless junkies attempting to sleep. They grunted and hollered some insults but neither paid them any mind. “Sure looks like a piss-poor place to find a doctor, especially one supposedly so well regarded.”

There was more sarcasm in his voice than malice, but Sorvik would rather keep his Lord in an agreeable mood. “She’s one of the best in the business for what you’re looking for, my Lord Laz’ab,” he assured him. “Nar Shaddaa has never been much to look at, but it’s good business for the medical profession.”

If anyone could understand that sentiment it was Laz. His previous doctor had owned a clinic on the Hutt moon as well. Now he was back, after so many years, and in critical condition. As well as missing his right arm at the shoulder, the twi’lek walked with a bad limp and complained constantly of shooting pains in his back. He had spent the better part of the last five years fighting for survival in the tombs of Korriban, defending himself from creatures on a good night, and against the ghosts in his head on the bad. It was only by some miracle he had escaped with his sanity at all, he thought, though there were days when Laz’ab wasn’t entirely sure he was all there.

Sorvik seemed aware of what the pregnant silent meant, and quickly filled it with more chatter. “She’s one of the pioneers of medical engineering, specializing in cybernetics and prosthesis. If anyone can synthesize your design it’s Dr. Bujare. Her clinic should be just around the corner.”

As if on cue the pair topped the path to the upper levels and a brilliant cyan syringe cut through the night, it’s point aimed at the door beneath as if in invitation. Unlike the rest of the squalid streets this one seemed better maintained, and the pair didn’t encounter another homeless alien or spot another mound of rubble or garbage on their way to the door. A moment later they had left the silence and suffering of Nar Shaddaa behind them and set foot inside the clinic.

The room was illuminated briefly by a red light as a security droid flickered to life, scanning them from head to toe. With its partially faded green-yellow paint and scratched surface, it appeared to have seen its fair share of action, but managed to greet them formally despite the damage. He stood guard before the door to the clinic proper, his optics trained on the two strangers. Glitched, digitized speech crackled through his voice modulator.

"Welcome to-to Clinic Buja-A-are. Please dispose of your-r-r weaponry to the se-se-secure lockers, for the safety of clinic staff and sensitive m-m-medical equipment inside, a-and to a-a-avoid any accidents. Thank y-y-you for your cooperation." He pointed to a set of lockers on the wall.

Laz’ab turned and shot Sorvik a dry look, tattoos stretching as he raised a brow, hardly impressed. His remaining hand grasping the saber at his waist, the twi’lek turned back with an irritated thrash of his lekku.

“I don’t think so,” he grated in an unpleasant voice. “The lightsaber stays with me. Now stop wasting my time and let me through to see the doctor.”

Behind him Creden Sorvik paused in the middle of unholstering his blaster, blinking owlishly before discreetly clipping it back to his hip. He lapsed into silence instead, shooting the droid an apologetic look. As though this defective model was still capable of facial recognition.

The droid, who went by B7, paused for a moment as though calculating the odds. Meanwhile his scanners cast another red wave over the two.

"I am a-a-afraid I must insist, Sir," the droid repeated. "The clinic stands as a sanctuary for-r-r those in need. Doctor Buja-A-are is very specific on her rules. No weapons a-a-and no discriminations," B7 stated, then added as though aware of Sorvik's actions:

"If you wish you are free-e-e to scan and secure the pa-pa-parameters. Your company seems mo-o-ore than ca-a-apable enough to ha-andle the locals, according to my cal-cal-calculations, but this u-u-unit cannot allow you inside without coopera-a-ation."

Sorvik held the droids optics. “We intend to co-operate fully, but ah …” he glanced at his Lord’s vice grip on his saber hilt; he wasn’t letting go of that any time soon. “Perhaps I could speak to Doctor Bujare over a holocall? We spoke before, perhaps she could diffuse the situation. My name is Creden Sorvik, she should remember me.”

He bowed slightly at the hip. Laz’ab’s eyes were still fixed on the droid in a deadpan glare, but otherwise he made no attempt to decapitate it. Fortunate, really, since he had become rather the expert during Caspira’s small stint at the compound.

"A moment, p-p-please." B7's red lights flickered again as he processed data. "A-a-appointment confirmed. This u-u-unit urges you to be mindful of your-r-r bearings. This u-u-unit will not hesitate to use necessary force to protect the clinic staff if the ne-ne-need arises."

His statement concluded, he turned and switched a panel on the wall. The doors didn’t budge. He jammed it repeatedly but apart from a static blip there was no sign of life from the other side. A noise, almost like a grunt, emitted from his voice modulator as he attempted to wedge his fingers between the closed doors, pulling them open with the sound of exertion. Eventually he managed to slip between the crack, pushing with his full body.

"Clinic Buja-A-are is currently experiencing a shortage of power-r-r," he stated with some difficulty, barely managing to hold the door open for one person at a time. "We a-a-apologize for the inconvenience. Re-re-rest assured the back-up genera-a-ators a-are perfectly capable of providing n-n-necessary power f-for services inside the clinic. P-p-please proceed."

Laz’ab was unimpressed before, but this just cemented his low opinion of the place.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” he spat, jabbing a bony finger at Sorvik. “You promised a genius surgeon and synthetic engineer, not some quack doctor in some shit corner of Nar Shaddaa.”

His security chief managed to restrain the Sith from marching straight back out the door, laying a gentle hand on his arm. He was one of the few people in existence who could touch the twi’lek and walk away unscathed.

“My Lord, I understand this may not be what you were expecting, but if you leave now you will be turning your back on one of the best experts out there. Power surges happen all the time, we even had a few of them back on Dromund Kaas. It shouldn’t affect your opinion on the doctor at all.” He was thinking on his feet, but that was what he was best at, and why he had survived so long in Laz’ab’s company.

The twi’lek gnawed his lip, glaring first at his consort and then back at the droid, still wedged in the door and struggling keep it open. Finally he released his grip on his weapon to the sound of a relieved sigh. “Fine. But if this doctor turns out to be some nutjob working with rusted tools in a back alley, I’m out of here.”

“Of course not, my Lord. It’s you who works with rusted tools.”

That actually earned a dry laugh as the twi’lek snaked his way towards the droid. With a wave of his remaining hand the doors rolled open with a heavy crunching noise, temporarily relieving the stress on the poor B7 unit with the Force. He sauntered on by with a look on his face like ‘you’re welcome’, followed closely behind by Sorvik with a look of ‘I’m so sorry’.

"A-a-appreciated, Sir," B7 responded, and stepped inside before the door slammed shut behind him.

Inside the clinic was barely lit. A few industrial lanterns emitted warm, dim light from several points throughout the room, but they were hardly effective. They could hardly make out the furniture until their eyes adjusted to the gloom, and the smell of sterilized equipment and kolto permeated the air. It was mixed with something sweet, fruity almost, like a baked cake or pie. An odd scent to be found in a clinic, for sure. Somewhere in the back of the room heavy equipment chattered to themselves in a low hum.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t seek out a professional for that?” A woman’s voice abruptly cut through the gloom from the far corner, and a twi’lek stepped into view. She held one of those industrial lanterns in her hand as she bent to examine something.

“I am a professional,” another voice replied from somewhere, chuckling. Her Basic carried a hint of a Coruscanti accent.

“You are a doctor, Doctor,” the twi’lek replied in a farceur tone. “That’s an entirely different profession.”

“You can’t deny I am good with machines,” the Coruscanti continued, “and I’ve lived here long enough to pick up a few tricks along the way.” Following her words the power in the clinic fluctuated, buzzing briefly and flooding the room with light before going dark again. The assistant glimpsed their visitors in that second, raising her lantern to survey them up and down.

“You got visitors, Doc,” she called.

“Just a moment!” The doctor sounded cheery. “Almost done here!”

With another surge of electricity the clinic’s power hummed back on, and this time it stayed on. The room was small, stocked with kolto barrels piled along the walls and a simple set of sofas and chairs in the centre of the room. There was an old crate she used as a coffee table, and two doors on either wall. One read ‘Office / Lab & Workshop’, the other ‘Operation Room’.

The tolian twi’lek looked fairly young, though she moved with a cane. She appeared neither slave nor servant, crossing the room to put out the lanterns.There was a commotion from below the floorboards, and a moment later a bundle of white lab coat and wild, frizzy brown hair pulled itself out from an opened panel.

A stout Mirialan woman got to her feet, dusting herself off. Her right sleeve pulled back to reveal a crude cybernetic prosthesis, hardly the most elegant design, and it ran the risk of doing her work a disservice. But she had her reasons for using it. Dr. Odolys pulled her welding goggles up onto her forehead and smiled warmly to the visitors as she rolled her sleeves back down.

“Creden Sorvik, I presume?” she inquired, stepping forward and holding out her left hand--her biological one--for a shake. “I am Doctor Bujare.”

Sorvik nodded and extended a hand to shake hers. “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance at last,” he said. “Sorry to see you’ve been having some electrical issues, I hope that doesn’t happen too often around here.” He laughed nervously, turning to introduce the Sith that had fallen in behind him. Laz’ab prefered lurking in the shadows, and the sudden flash of light saw him twitching visibly. He didn’t even attempt to force a smile, red eyes staring down the Mirialan from a distance.

“May I introduce Darth Arachis, my Lord who we discussed over holo. As you can see, we suffered tremendous injury at the hands of the Eternal Empire. I’m told you can help us with that.”

Even with his long cloak bunched around his shoulders, the severed stump where Laz’ab’s right arm used to be was clear as day. His sleeve was pinned awkwardly so it wouldn’t flap about, and the stump wiggled pathetically: ‘Hello.’

“Unfortunately, Mr. Sorvik, we have been experiencing them fairly often as of late.” She chuckled softly. “Pest infestation of the lower levels, it’s making it hard on the rest of the sector.

Odolys’s green eyes surveyed the Sith from a distance, stepping back to a control panel and dimming the lights accordingly. Perhaps that would ease his discomfort. “Better, I hope?” she asked kindly with a polite nod to acknowledge him. She stayed where she was out of respect for her patient’s personal space rather than from fear of him .... yet.

“This way, please.” She gestured towards the door at her right, the one labeled ‘Office’. “I believe you mentioned a design?”

They followed her into the room. It was a little cramped but very well organized and clean. It was divided by a large workbench for cybernetics and paravans that separated office from workshop and laboratuvar. She waved her hands towards the workshop and ushered them inside. “I’ll be with you in a second. Aola, can you--”

“Already on it, Doctor,” the tolian twi’lek replied, handing Odolys a sterilized white suit. The Mirialan stepped out of sight while she changed and washed her arms after her stint with the repair panel. Aola turned to Sorvik and the Sith.

“Would you like something to drink? Tea? Caff? Water maybe?”

The two took the opportunity to observe their surroundings as the doctor fussed with her clothes. At the very least the subject of their weapons seemed to be dropped, and the presence of his sabre at his hip seemed to relax the Sith enough. He straightened up to his full height as he began wandering around the room, taking in the equipment with a critical eye.

“Tea for him,” he muttered with a sharp jab of his chin in Sorvik’s direction. “Just water for me. I have the designs with me,” he added. “I hear you’re the best in the sector and can handle more than basic, rudimentary replacements.”

He had wandered around to behind the workbench and there was a pronounced clanking as he idly toyed with some metallic objects on a tray. Behind him Creden Sorvik produced his holocommunicator and projected the prototype into the centre of the room. It deconstructed into several parts so the doctors could see the hydraulics within.

Beginning at the shoulders, a prosthetic for a full-arm reconstruction rotated slowly on its axis. At the top protruded several moveable spikes, with the intention of raising or lowering them for dramatic effect, etched with an elaborate design. This motif snaked down and continued on the lower arm, no doubt a design that had some meaning to the Sith. The complicated hydraulics of the hand and fingers were protected by synthetic mesh from the wrist down, with pads on the fingertips providing some semblance of grip. The fingernails extended into fine, lethal claws that couldn’t be intended for anything good.

What Odolys didn’t know was that Laz’ab never intended to share the full design with her. His original schematics included additional components for even more nefarious deeds. He had separate files for the inner workings of the lower arm, which he intended to house needles, knives, drills, and spikes to rival the arsenal of any good interrogation droid. But the doctor didn’t need to know his true intentions; once he had a proper prosthetic his engineers could handle the rest.

Aola nodded and left to fetch their drinks as the Mirialan stepped out from behind the panel in fresh robes. Her welding goggles were gone, face cleansed of dust, and her curly, unruly hair was pulled back in a loose bun.

“I do hope I can live up to those rumours,” she chuckled.

The hologram caught her eye, and she put on a pair of reading glasses to examine it in more detail. Meanwhile her assistant returned with a tray between hand and hip, somehow not spilling a drop despite her cane: two cups of tea and a glass of water, for Sorvik, the doctor, and the Sith Lord respectively.

She glanced at the design, then shot a wary look towards Odolys, who took in a deep breath. She flicked through the holo, taking mental notes

“Are those retractable?” she asked, pointing to the fingers on the design with her own claw-like cybernetic. “If not, such a design would run the risk of causing harm to yourself or others during casual use. Even things like grabbing or holding objects might prove troublesome.” Her eyes flicked between them both, cheery demeanor replaced by a professional seriousness.

Laz’ab left the tools alone with an abrupt clatter and slithered closer to the projection, following the doctor’s gaze. The diagram had enhanced the area so the intricacies of the hydraulics were clear, the outer casing of the hand falling away to reveal structures beneath. It resembled regular tarsals in most respects, but the nails were admittedly much too sharp and long.

“A little bit,” the twi’lek confirmed. He failed to mention his intention of installing additional blades later, that would swap out for torture or maiming. Laz’ab was nothing if not an unfair fighter. “Down to what would be perhaps more acceptable, but still prominent.”

Sorvik pointed at the flexible outer cover of the palm, and then at little pads fastened to the bottom of each finger. “These will be constructed from a flexible mesh, and provide grip when grasping or climbing on the pads of the fingers. It should mitigate the length of the nails when they are retracted.”

“Hmm.”

Odolys reached over her desk and pulled out a cable, plugging the holo into one of her terminals. Sorvik followed the doctor to her desk, offering the holocommunicator should she want to download the design. Meanwhile the Sith trailing close behind to peer curiously at the data flashing on the terminal.

“It should be sufficient then, considering twi’lek anatomy and the potential for sharp claws already.” She looked straight at the Darth. “But it might take some time to get used to it, you’ll need practice or else risk injuring yourself.”

She entered some notes onto her keypad, watching the Sith with a soft smile on her face. When she explained her procedures her tone took on a gentle, soothing voice, trying not to scare him off but at the same time informing him quite matter-of-factly.

“I would like to run a few scans on you to build a detailed map of your musculature and bone structure. It will help me determine if your body is ready for the strain of this design, and which materials would be favorable for your needs. We may need to make a few alternations, within reason and with your permission, of course.” She gestured to the medical seat behind her. “And a routine blood test to see if you should require any supplements before we proceed with necessary operations. Do you have any questions, my Lord?”

He hesitated only a moment before following through with her offer, climbing into the seat as though he’d done it a dozen times before and smoothed out the folds of his robes delicately. He did not seem relaxed, however, back stiff and eyes flitting from person to person around the room.

“I am aware how these procedures work,” he explained tersely, picking up on her gentle--but wary--tone. “I’ve had my fair share of experience with physicians and surgeons in the past; we have some medical files on hand if they will help.” It seemed he was less apprehensive of the procedure so much as just being in unfamiliar territory.

“From another clinic on Nar Shaddaa, where he was treated for his wounds,” Sorvik explained, giving Odolys access to that data also. “We are prepared to cooperate with anything you may need.”

“Thank you, it is most appreciated. If you would lean back, I will arrange the system for scanning.” She slipped into the next room while Aola approached to prepare him.

“I will take these,” she said, accepting the holocommunicator and datafiles from the Sith’s assistant. She leaned her cane against the wall and took a chair to work on the computer. “Uploading files now, Doctor.”

Odolys returned carrying a clean tray and an injector with an empty tube. She nodded approvingly at the back of her assistant’s head, setting down the equipment beside the patient. “May I?”

She indicated the Sith Lord’s arm, asking permission before touching him for the blood test. The action came naturally to her, as though she treated all patients with the same respect, but despite her effort’s Laz’ab’s lips remained pursed in a thin, purple line. At his side his stump wiggled.

“Sorry,” his teeth flashed through a disingenuous smile. “I’d roll up my sleeve, but …”

Sorvik had wandered away towards the back of the room, giving his Lord and the doctor some time to themselves. Now he leaned against the far wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

It had been several weeks since his Lord’s major surgery, but Laz’ab still hadn’t acclimatized to his missing limb. He snapped at his subordinates frequently, flew into rages followed by breakdowns, and was easily more frustrated by the simplest tasks. If anyone could understand him in this moment, it was Dr. Odolys. The agent had read her confidential files, knew about her past and her own accident resulting in her rudimentary cybernetics. He only hoped finally realizing his design would set the twi’lek back on track.

“Perhaps when the prototype is ready you will be able to,” the doctor responded brightly, rolling up his sleeve for him.

She brushed her fingers lightly over his arm. It didn’t take any effort at all to find his veins, prominent as they were over almost his entire body. She turned back to her tray, pulled on a glove, and prepared a piece of cotton soaked in sterilizer. “This might be a little cold,” she warned before rubbing the area, then took the small syringe with its empty tube.

“Your design looks very peculiar.” She continued to speak as though they were just having a casual chat, distracting him from the task at hand. “It has a ferocious appeal, feels like more than just an arm.” She smiled and shook the vial in her hands, mixing the components with the blood now. “Perhaps you’re sending a message?” She pressed a plaster into his arm and placed the blood sampling away for testing.

The distraction worked like a charm and Laz’ab hardly paid any mind until she was shaking the contents of his blood in front of her. Then again, compared to the abuse he received at the hands of his former Master, or his struggle to survive the last few years, needles were the least of his concerns anymore.

“It’s not meant to be pleasant,” he replied flatly, watching with sharp eyes as she pressed the swab to his arm. “An unpleasant arm for an unpleasant man.” He lapsed into silence again, choosing not to answer her prying questions and instead demonstrated a keen interest in watching her work. He’d spent a lot of time with doctors, one in particular, and always found it equal parts fascinating and familiar to study them.

Odolys caught herself staring at her own crude arm at his words, the claw-like fingers clicking over the metal surface. Her mind flashed to the past, the incident leading up to her loss … her own cybernetics were not the most state of the art, worn down over the years, repaired many times, and slowly improved. But it worked. And it meant something more to her.

She returned to the Sith’s side, the biosample processor humming quietly in the background, and flicked a few buttons and switches as blue lights scanned his body. Laz’ab stiffened slightly but lay still. She replaced her surgical gloves with a new pair, but these were made of thin fabric and not latex, with pads on the fingertips and strings and cables attached to a microchip.

“Everything’s been uploaded, Doc,” Aola called from the desk.

“Initiate sequence with ThoBu,” Odolys called, now attaching something to her own cybernetic limb and some sort of tech-monocle over her left eye.

Aola had a short debate with her keyboard. “This thing is … in Cheun again.”

“Ah, right. Mirri uploaded a new patch, send it to my screen.”

In moments a hologram of Laz’ab’s body flickered in front of them. The muscles were visible beneath a thin film of skin, the bones beneath that, and maps of various other systems showed the full extent of the damage to his body. With her enhanced glove the Mirialan was able to interact with the hologram and split the layers apart. Her expression changed, visibly upset by what she was seeing. Flesh and bone would heal over time, but scars would always remain. And as an experienced doctor, it wasn’t hard for her to spot every deformation left over from a lifetime of abuse.

Odolys took a deep breath. Feeling sorry wasn’t going to build the cybernetic arm, nor would it benefit anyone here tonight. With a wave of her hand she uploaded the design to the holographic sequence and attached it to the model. Various signals and alerts immediately began flashing across the board, indicating the spine, shoulder blades, shoulder, and torso muscles. She picked through these carefully, editing information, trying new materials, and swapping out components.

Laz’ab had risen silently from his seat and taken up position lurking behind her. His eyes tracked upward to the image of himself, projected in three-dimensions and interactive. It was strange to see himself in this way. He knew doctors had of course taken full scans of him before, but as each layer was peeled back he could see every story his body had ever told. The broken bones, healed after so long, deep gashes that deformed the muscles beneath, the thin slivers where he had been whipped as a slave, and then cut again as an Apprentice.

Though he stood in complete silence, his breath hitched with each new reveal and his eyes twitched as memories flooded back. His fresh wounds were clearer, outlined in a bright blue so his surgeons could address the most severe. These were still healing, and would incapacitate his ability to carry heavy mechanics.

He startled the doctor when she turned around, and she only barely managed to hold back a yelp. It took her a few moments to pull herself back together, hand on her chest to calm her rushing heart, before she smirked at how the situation must look. This time when she turned back to the holoterminal she kept a mindful eye on where Laz’ab decided to stand.

“I’m sure you are well aware your body isn’t exactly …” she paused, searching for a more delicate term, “in the best shape. Regardless of the materials we choose, you will need enchanters here, and here.” She pointed at the twi’lek’s skeletal model, marking spots along the spine and shoulders, “and in these muscle groups.” She pulled up the second model and placed them side-by-side, tapping and indicating new areas.

“But first we need you to recover fully from your previous surgeries,” she added, turning to him. “In the meantime I will prepare a prototype and vest to stimulate these points, so you can adapt to carrying the extra and weight and get used to the design. This way we can test its efficiency before the final cybernetics are built.”

Laz’ab’s lips pursed but there was no protest, he was all too aware of his emaciated condition. Even before his ordeal it had been a problem. “I understand,” he nodded, though there was no mistaking his disappointment. He had hoped to have his arms back much sooner. “I imagine you’ll need time to construct the prototype in the meantime. How long do you think it will be until I’ve recovered enough to wear a proper replacement?”

His hand, previously crossed across his chest, absently traced the spots she’d indicated on the diagram, or as close as he could. Without the glove his fingers waved right through his ribs, and he imagined the sensation of reinforcements beneath his skin. What must it feel like?

“I can wear a vest while training,” he mused, voice still a mile away and his eyes glued to the projection. “It may help me get my strength back.”

“It will only take a couple of months, if everything goes well,” Dr. Odolys said, but her hesitation suggested she didn’t have complete faith in her prediction. “Looking at the condition of your body, all told … we may require multiple surgeries. Those are my initial thoughts, looking at your scans now.”

She tapped on the model and some parts lit up red. “These are the primary muscle groups I will be enhancing with rybcoarse-based materials. This will provide additional support and allow you to lift your arm will less effort.” She continued to colour-code different areas accompanied by explanations.

“Every operation will target a new area, bones, muscles, nerves. You will need rest and recovery between each, and will have to keep up an exercise regime to get used to them. I will give you an upgraded prototype with each. While you can use the vest with daily activities and training, don’t forget it is not the final result. It will have its limitations, and I don’t recommend wearing it more than five hours a day.”

That news was met with a more grievous expression and the twi’lek took a step forward to properly observe. The doctor stepped back and allowed the Sith to examine the models, Sorvik also ventured closer to watch his master warily.

“That long.” This time he sounded downright forlorn. “When I was--” He hesitated a moment, jagged teeth gnawing on his bottom lip, then shrugged. If he was going to get any results from this doctor he could at least trust her with some basic information. “When I was trapped in the tombs where I lost my arm, I fashioned makeshift replacements from debris and animal parts. I had no mechanics so I manipulated it using the Force alone. It was tiring, but ...” he gestured with his remaining arm at the hologram, “I may not require as many reinforcements as you think.”

“We don’t want you tiring yourself out,” Sorvik cautioned, carefully choosing his own words. “The galaxy has become a much more unpredictable place, it would be beneficial to avoid over-exerting yourself in a fight.”

“That is an impressive feat, I admit,” Odolys echoed. “But while I am not gifted with the Force, as a doctor allow me to ask: would you prefer an arm that is functional and does not run the risk of wearing down your body in the long run, and will only require maintenance once a year or so …” She paused, letting her words sink in before adding carefully, “or would you prefer a hunk of junk that requires constant attention and willpower just to keep functional, tiring out not just the limb, but your entire body, both physically and mentally?”

Laz’ab’s gaze became steel for a moment, peering through her with those dead, red eyes. He held the uncomfortable silence for a long, tense moment, before finally muttering through tight lips.

“Hopefully yours will not be a hunk of junk, as you put it.” His gaze averted, he straightened up but never lost the steely edge to his voice. “I can wait. Make it as functional as possible with minimum strain.”

“I will order the materials as soon as possible, and begin building the prototype the minute they arrive,” she announced, turning to the hologram and ending the sequence. “In the meantime I will prescribe supplements for you. Aola, do we still have those blue boxes?”

“Yes, Doc. They’re in the med-cabinet at the other door, top shelf. The one with the purple stains.”

“Excuse me.” The doctor excused herself and left the room.

The twi’lek watched her go, pose unmoving, every inch coiled like a spring. A tense silence settled in the room, broken only by the Sith’s now laboured breathing. Finally his head snapped towards Sorvik, and he mouthed the word ‘stains?’ incredulously.

Sorvik let out a little sigh as he crossed the room. “Do be careful, my Lord. She is one of the best, otherwise I would not have brought you here. Your designs were quite specific and very detailed, but I’m sure she can pull it off entirely with your co-operation.”

When Dr. Odolys returned she was carrying a square shaped plasti-glass blue box, and wrote some notes for its use. She handed it to Sorvik instead, a pair of small purple stickers in the shape of spots on it.

“Orange ones twice a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. The blue one is before sleep. Box contains enough for now,” she said. “I will inform you when the materials arrive and I start my work. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?”

Sorvik took them after a moment’s hesitation, feeling the Sith’s malevolent eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. “Just supplements, correct? No side effects, drowsiness, anything that might compromise the effects of … other medication?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Just supplements. I picked them according to the patient’s current medication to avoid any unwanted effects.” She smiled softly.

Laz’ab looked unconvinced, but then maybe that was just his default expression. An awkward moment ticked by during which time he begrudgingly took the box from his aide.

“And what else doctor?” He finally asked, doing quite possibly the worst impression of polite. “Any exercises routines I should do between now and our next little visit?” There was a slight mocking lilt to his tone, but the question posed was serious. He was not going to be stuck in this position forever.

“Here,” Aola responded from the desk, snatching up her cane and limping towards them with a data chip. “I uploaded some basic exercise routines and nourishment suggestions, but don’t over-exert yourself until you’ve fully recovered. Feel free to contact this office if you have any additional questions.”

The twi’lek took it from her with less spite this time. “I’ve been through a lot already, nothing I can’t handle.” It was hard to tell if he was trying to convince himself, or just stating the facts. Whatever the case he stored the chip in the same blue box for now, using the Force to manipulate the vehicles in lieu of his second hand. He tucked it under his arm.

“If that is all, we will take our leave. Until next time, Doctor Odolys.” Laz’ab offered only a small inclination of his head, while behind him Creden Sorvik bid a polite goodbye, his flourish visibly practised.

Both Odolys and Aola walked them through the clinic and sent them off, B7 returning to his post behind the closed doors as the two women stood side by side. Only once the Sith and his aide were safely out of earshot did they dare utter a sound.

“Wow.” The twi’lek let out an unimpressed huff. “I thought he was going to crumble to pieces.”

“I’ve seen worse,” the doctor replied thoughtfully. Her mind was already running over the details of future operations. “Aola … did you say stains instead of spots?” she suddenly asked.

“I … might have? I have been thinking of the kitchen upstairs all day.”

“Why is that?”

“Have you forgot who cooked last night?”

“Oh no …”

“Oh, yes.”

“Oh noooo!” Odolys covered her forehead with her hand.

“Let that sink in nicely, Doctor Bujare,” Aola snickered, and started to limp away. At that moment the lights inside flickered and the generator made a most pathetic noise, before burying the clinic in darkness once again.

“Oh, come on!” the doctor groaned.

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