#it was originally green and orange but the scanner took out all the orange!

[thetidemice]

scottish wildcat, 19 foamprints by me

[ms-kio]

Traveling Spider: An Anomaly

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) X Clone Wars! 2137 Words

'Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.' Peters Spider-Sense warned him as his body began to crumble to dust. "Mr. Stark?" He said as he stumbled towards Tony Stark, his mentor, teacher and father-figure. "I don't feel so good." He didn't know what happened next as the one who had come to raise him as his own son embraced Peter's fading body.

"You did good kid…"

Blackness…

Peter Parker woke up with a start. His head ached like hell and he was extremely hot, his mask covering his face. Peter willed the mask to come down and it felt like sand falling off his face. "Hey Karen." He said, speaking to the AI in the suit.

"Yes Peter?" She asked.

"Where are we? And does the Iron Spider need any maintenance or charging?" Peter asked the AI.

"We are on a foreign planet sir." Karen answered. "And no, the suit is fine." Wait. A foreign planet!? How was he going to get back to the others? Ned? Aunt May? Mr. Stark… "Peter? Are you okay?" The AI asked, sensing his destress via heart rate.

"I'm fine Karen…" Peter said as he sat up to take in his surroundings, taking a couple deep breaths. "But being on my own, having no idea who turned to dust…" He paused and stood up fully. Gosh he needed water. "Where's the nearest water source?"

"Go to the foot of the cliff and dig three feet down and you'll find a freshwater stream." Karen replied. Peter did so using the spider legs built into the suit. Apparently the Iron Spider had water storage in case he went on long trips without water to keep his body hydrated. God, Stark was a genius.

"Hey Karen. This suit can turn into regular clothes right?" Peter questioned his AI friend.

"Yes. If you would like, I can manipulate it to look like that of the natives." Peter thought about it and nodded.

"Yah, let's go with that." Peter replied. He was suddenly wearing a pair of boots, heavy trousers that were slightly baggy and had a thick utility belt from his left shoulder to his right hip. There was also a necklace that seemed to be made of thin rope and teeth of some sort. The suit also provided an earpiece that was barely visible so Karen could speak to him. Using his spider attributes, Peter scaled the cliffside back to where he was before to get a better look at the new place. He saw smoke start to rise a few miles away as the sun started to set and told Karn to zoom in on the location. An eyepiece came out of nowhere and Peter saw what looked like a village of humanoids. They had no hair, but possessed two thick tentacle-like body parts on their heads that replaced it. Their skin tone varied from oranges, greens, reds and blues. Peter also notices they all had pointed teeth that looked very sharp and strange looking ears. The eyepiece was retracted and Peter began to head toward the small village to get a better look and maybe meet the natives. 'Hide, hide, hide, hide, hide!' Peters Spider-sense suddenly yelled at him. He took a sharp right and slid into a small cave just as a fleet of very large ships entered the atmosphere. "Karen, what are on those things!?" Peter said urgently to the AI.

"My scanners indicate 1025 droids. 1000 of them are designed for battle, 20 for maintenance and 5 analytics and tacticians." Karen replied.

"Switch the Iron-Spider to camouflage." Peter ordered. The suit reverted back to its original form and turned to a beige to match the sandstone. He watched as several ships were piloted out of the cruisers and offloaded hundreds of battle droids. Anger started to boil within him as the droids shot down those who fought and apprehended the rest. Peter decided to get closer and see what he could do to help the natives.

~ ~ ~

Earlier:

Meanwhile, Anakin Skywalker was pacing in his room in the Jedi Temple. Padme and Ahsoka had been put into the hospital due to the Blue Shadow Virus and for all he knew their lives could be on the line, not to mention Rex and his brothers. A little warning bell went off in Anakin's head before a splitting headache hit him. Anakin, being hypersensitive to the force, took the blow much harder than any of the other Jedi. This would have felt like a strong rush of wind to anyone else who noticed. But for him, it was a hurricane. The strange thing was, the force wasn't warning him of danger, but something big. Something that could easily become danger. The pain of the headache was almost excruciating. It was like a ringing in his ears. Once he was recovered enough to walk, he headed straight to the council chambers. A few of the Jedi Masters were already there.

"We still don't have any leads as to what caused this surge in the force." Mace Windu said, only the council and Anakin in the room now. "Skywalker. The surge seemed to have a lasting effect on you. Did you glean anything at all from this?" At the words of the Master of the Council, Anakin spoke. He hadn't done so since entering the room, still thinking of what the force had told him.

"... I did feel something." He said, a few of the masters leaned forward in their chairs. "It was like the force was telling me something very big was happening, that wasn't currently a threat, but could very well become one." The council agreed to keep this new development in the force a secret. Because if the Jedi could feel that strong ripple in the force, so could the Sith.

~ ~ ~

In Chancellor Palpatine's office, The master and apprentice were discussing what they had felt. For the sith and the dark side of the force, it told them that there was a chance at unprecedented power that this galaxy has never seen. "Hunt this opportunity down, Tyranus." Sidious ordered his apprentice. "This must not be an opportunity for the Jedi."

"Yes Lord Sidious." His apprentice answered and obeyed. A sinister smile fell on the dark lords lips, he was pleased.

~ ~ ~

Present time:

After a few minutes of observation, Peter managed to spot the leader of the alien race and noticed he was taken to a cell in a complex, rather than with the rest of his people, who were surrounded and had guns trained on them. Peter constructed a plan in his head:

Bust the leader out of jail and figure the rest out with him.

Yes, it was a one-step plan, but it was the best he had, knowing the native leader would know more about his home terrain, enemies etc. Peter kept his camouflage activated as he snuck past the guards. If he stayed in place, he became completely invisible and the suit kept him from being detected by thermal cameras. He stuck to the ceiling as he climbed toward his destination. The orange-skinned alien was being guarded by only one droid, easy. Peter's spider legs quickly snapped off the droid's head and caught it before it hit the ground, then quietly put it down.

"Alright, what do we have here?" Peter muttered to himself as he soundlessly dropped from the ceiling and faced the panel. Karen told him which buttons to press and the door slid open, letting the leading-figure out of the cell. Once he left, Peter closed the door and kept watch as the man put on his gear and primed his guns. "How do you suggest we free your people?" Peter asked.

"There's a cannon to the west, that's the only thing keeping my people there. Once we take that out and deactivate the manacles, they can do the rest."

"Good to know. I'll take the cannon, you would probably have an easier time leading your people on ground." Peter agreed.

"Here, take this." The orange skinned alien said and tossed him a bracer of some sort. "Contact me when the cannon is out." He said and Peter went on his way with a nod. The plan was set into action and Karen described the functions of the communicator. The cannon was taken out and Peter pressed one of the buttons. "

"The cannon is out of commission!" Peter said through the communicator. As he dashed back toward the camp, Peter heard the leader thank him and blaster fire over the comlink. "Everything good over there?" Peter asked his ally as he took out one of the tanks.

"Yes. Once we're done, meet us at these coordinates." He replied and sent him the location.

"Got it. Good hunting!" Peter said as he received the coordinates.

"Good hunting." And they discontinued contact. Peter finished off the perimeter defenses later than the rest and started heading to the camp, away from the enemy outpost. It was dark by the time he saw the camp, but thanks to the Iron Spiders night vision, Peter could see fine.

~ ~ ~

Cham Syndulla was honestly thankful for the young warriors help and felt slightly guilty leaving the boy to finish off the outer defenses on his own. The rebel leader was currently waiting at the front entrance to the base for his strange ally when he heard a commotion. Cham quickly headed toward the disturbance and immediately knew what was happening.

"Hold your fire!" He shouted just as they were about to shoot. The camouflaged boy then quickly reached the gates.

"Who is this?" One of Cham's followers asked.

"He's the reason we're all here right now." Cham replied. After a bit of further explanation, the two got to know each other further. "May I ask. What is your name?" Cham asked.

"I'd rather keep my identity confidential for now, if it's all the same to you." The boy replied. "But for now, just call me Spiderman." Cham nodded, understanding his secrecy.

~ ~ ~

As Peter was studying a holomap of the planet, he noticed Syndulla leave with a few of his comrades to go on patrol the next morning. Peter was currently studying the capitol planet of Coruscant, described as a city-planet, under jurisdiction of the galactic senate and Chancellor Palpatine. He had already gone over Naboo and Rodia as well when he heard Syndulla return with a few other people. When Peter laid eyes on a dark-skinned robed man, his spider sense tingled in anticipation.

~ ~ ~

When Mace Windu entered Syndullas base alongside the remainder of his men, a little bell went off in the back of his head, telling him to stay alert. Not for danger, but rather for an opportunity.

"I hope you do not mind." Cham said as he motioned to the dancers. "It serves as a distraction for what my people have been through." After a bit, Mace was taken to a room in the back and spoke.

"How do you propose we convince your senator to agree to your help?" Mace asked.

"I'm not sure." Cham replied honestly. "But before that, I would like you to meet someone. Spiderman?"

"Hm?" A voice replied in a questioning tone as the air seemed to ripple before Mace's eyes in the shape of a man.

"I never questioned it before. But can you take down your camouflage?" Cham asked the rippling air.

"Oh, sure!" The voice replied and there was suddenly a humanoid figure covered in metallic scales of blue, red and gold with black and white eyes. It appeared young, though Mace could tell through the force that the boy had been through a lot. "Do you need something?" He asked curiously, so Cham spoke.

"I believe you could be of some help freeing my planet. Are you opposed to joining us?" Teh Twi'lek asked.

"Oh! Not at all." The boy replied. "What do you need done?" He asked. Mace was surprised as to how willingly the metallic-scaled boy was able to jump into battle, so the Jedi master spoke.

"You've been in battle before kid?" Mace said and suddenly the boy turned solemn.

"Yah." He said sadly, though everyone who was listening could tell he was trying to sound fine. "I don't think I'll be seeing the rest of my team again anytime soon." That sentence told Mace and Cham all they needed to know and the trio switched subjects. They got in contact with a few Jedi, the chancellor and the senator of Ryloth. Spiderman had stayed quiet through the ordeal, but Mace could tell he was listening intently .

~ ~ ~

It had been a few minutes and Peter Parker was getting tired of the bickering between the senator and the rebel leader, Syndulla. Peter decided to give the two groups sixty more seconds to try and resolve their conflict before he intervenes.

[tradgicworks]

Heartfelt:P-1 A World of Sorrow

When a student of a private school disappears during stormy night, three strangers come together to look for her and end up discovering the dark secrets of the world around them. WORD COUNT - 3134

The light of the setting sun peered into the old diner. Black clouds dotted the sky. Sophie took a long sip from her milkshake and stared wistfully at the horizon. Her golden bangle bracelet slid down her arm as she did.

“What’s wrong?” Gwyneth asked as she noticed her gaze.

Gwyneth brushed her bangs aside. Her dark brown colored eyes were filled with concern. She had voluminous long black hair that covered her shoulders like a fluffy mane. She wore a uniform which consisted of a long skirt, a simple tucked in blouse, and a blazer- all in different shades of purple.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just thinking about some stuff,” Sophie said with a meek smile.

"What kinda stuff?" Gwyneth asked.

"Midterms, winter vacation, piano practice. The usual," Sophie replied.

“Wow, not even trying to hide the fact that you weren’t paying attention to my story, huh?" Gwyneth gave an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm sorry," Sophie awkwardly smiled.

 “It's okay, I forgive you. Anyways, remember that girl that went missing a couple months ago, she was a freshman, um, vice president of the chess club or something. Well some of the older students have been talking about how this isn’t the first time that it has happened,” Gwyneth ate one of her few remaining fries. “Near the end of last year’s spring semester a different freshman suddenly moved away. This normally wouldn't have been seen as strange except for the fact that it was right in the middle of finals. Supposedly, one of her friends decided to call her parents to ask about what happened only to be told that the phone number had been out of service for weeks.”

“Spooky,” Sophie commented simply.

“Mhm. So, the older girls started talking and it turned out that a lot of students went missing over the years. They say that it's been about fifteen students in total that have suddenly disappeared. For every single one of them there was a convenient excuse for why, but all of it just seems too coincidental,” Gwyneth leaned in for dramatic effect. “Me thinks there’s a conspiracy afoot.”

“Really? I suppose it is strange, but it could just be that the seniors get overactive imaginations with how much free time they have during finals,” Sophie sighed.

“Aw come on, humor me at least," Gwyneth leaned back. “Don’t you think it’s weird that the academy has a dedicated security team that answers directly to Capital City’s police department? We even have a creepy name for them- Wardens- that’s not normal!”

“Well, given the kind of students that attend it’s not that strange,” Sophie said.

“You really are playing devil's advocate today, huh?” Gwyneth gave a friendly smile.

“Sorry,” Sophie lowered her gaze.

Gwyneth’s smile turned to a face of concern. 

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay-'' Gwyneth started before she was interrupted by the chimes of their phones.

“Curfew,” Sophie swiped at her smartphone. “It’s time to head back.”

“Right...” Gwyneth gazed at her for a few seconds as she packed up her things and got ready to leave before following suit.

The two left a tip for the waiter and headed out into the cold air of the coming winter. The sleepy sky matched the energy of the few students that remained outside, all of them in a quiet hurry to get back to the main campus of Dorothy Elaine Atham's Private Academy for Young Women, or “the academy” as the students plainly referred to it. It was originally constructed in the early 1940s, yet it managed to remain one of the most prestigious high schools in Capital City. This was mostly due to the academy having the support of the Capital City Police Department. They would employ off-duty officers to act as the academy’s security team, or ‘Wardens’ as they were officially referred to. As a result the academy set itself apart as one of the safest private high schools in the entirety of the United States. Strict curfews, no relationships, mandatory dorms, quarterly inspections by the Wardens, uniforms and an arduous curriculum were some of the measures taken to keep the students safe. Wealthy families from all over the country enrolled their children with peace of mind that they would be safe, allowing the school to afford top of the line facilities, staff, and to further its reputation even more. It was said that the academy was so stern with its policies that even the lightest violation could lead to expulsion. Of course that was just a rumor.

Sophie and Gwyneth eventually found themselves back at the main entrance of the academy. Tall walls made of brick and black fencing led to two large half open gates. A flower bed filled with wilting violet roses that matched the student’s outfits sat underneath them. A tall Warden stood at the side of the entrance. Her bright green eyes filled with overwhelming sternness locked with Sophie’s. Sophie averted her gaze and made her way in alongside Gwyneth.

“W-Well, see you tomorrow,” Sophie said to Gwyneth as she took out a pair of wireless earbuds.

“Wait,” Gwyneth gently grabbed her arm before she left. “How about we walk back to your dorm together? I got some more spooky stories I want to tell you about.”

“You won’t make it back to your dorm in time if we do that, you’re on the other side of campus.” Sophie replied.

“I could just stay at your place, y’know like a sleepover,” Gwyneth doubled down as she let go of her arm.

“We both know you can’t do that,” Sophie let out a long breath and held Gwyneth’s shoulders. “I’m fine, really. I know you’re worried about me but I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyneth asked.

“I’m sure,” Sophie looked her in the eyes. “I promise that I’m okay.

“Breakfast?” Gwyneth asked dejectedly.

“Of course, breakfast sounds great,” Sophie gave a convincing enough smile. “Now let’s hurry, before the dorm doors lock.” She said as she let go of her.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Gwyneth smiled slightly.

“Goodnight,” Sophie replied before putting in her earbuds and selecting a classical music playlist.

The sun was halfway nestled into the horizon by the time they split. Night was rapidly approaching. The pitch black clouds moved as a mound, thunder rumbled in the distance. The academy resembled a small college more than a high school. Four buildings took up the majority of the campus, each housing their respective grade. A well decorated plaza rested in the middle of the four buildings, where the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors could interact with each other during lunch or after classes. The dorms sat a few hundred feet from their respective buildings. Wilting but mostly green grass took the majority of the empty space in the campus. Trees and flower beds stood beside the lamp posts that lit up the sprawling walkways. The campus barely had enough room for everything that was built on it, but it was efficient nonetheless.

Sophie’s brows furrowed as the freshmen dorm came into view. It was tucked away in the farthest corner of the campus. While the other dorms enjoyed a nice view of the academy, the freshmen dorms were greeted with the old auditorium. It was by far the oldest building on campus and in a desperate need for renovation. Unfortunately, the construction was inexplicably postponed until the end of the semester- leaving the freshmen with the sight of an ugly, half finished, and decaying building.

Sophie glanced at the front doors. A girl leaned against the doors as she chewed gum. Sophie overlapped the ends of her blazer together and averted her eyes. The girl stopped chewing as Sophie walked to the entrance. Sophie quickly took out her ID card and pressed it against the door’s scanner. The girl swatted her ID to the ground as it finished scanning.

“Whoops,” The girl, Eva, leered in a pretentious tone as she put her arm around her shoulder. “Didn’t see you there princess.”

Eva blew a bubble with her gum and popped it with a sharp snap. Her dyed ash blonde hair was tied into a messy bun. Her hazel colored eyes were flecked with dull orange blemishes. She wore a thick black hoodie and a short skirt which barely fell within the academy’s dress code. A faint but irritatingly smug smirk stretched across her face.

“What do you want, Eva?” Sophie said meekly.

“Nothing much, nothing much at all. I just wanted to talk to my dear friend for uh,” Eva glanced at her wrist watch. “Five minutes.”

“We’re not friends,” Sophie kept her gaze glued to the floor.

“It hurts me to hear you say that,” Eva squeezed her shoulder until she winced from the pain. “Listen, I need a little favor. As you know, winter break is in a week and I’m running low on funds, so I was wondering if you can help me. It’ll run you about five thousand dollars, but of course that’s nothing compared to all the allowance money your mommy and daddy are giving you, right?”

“No,” Sophie muttered.

“Excuse me?,” Eva tilted her head until she met her gaze. “You need to speak up, I can’t hear you through your teeth.”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Sophie pushed her off of herself. “Leave me alone or I’ll report you to the Wardens!”

“Oh, really now?” Eva chuckled dryly. “I think you and I both know you can’t follow up on such a threat, not without putting that friend of yours in a whole lot of trouble…Well you do have a point, I can’t take what’s not in my hands after all…” She glanced at her watch and gave a sadistic smirk.

“But neither can you,” Eva said before sweeping Sophie’s legs and causing her to trip backwards.

Sophie yelped in pain as she just managed to catch herself. By the time she got up Eva was already inside of the dorm with her ID in hand. She rushed to the doors only to find that they were already locked. The sound of a grandfather clock chimed through the PA system signaling the start of the curfew. 

“It’s a good thing you managed to scan the door before you dropped your ID, huh? That way it's on record that you got in here before curfew. Your perfect attendance is not in danger, though it was a real shame you lost your ID. Don’t worry though I’ll turn it in to the lost and found in the morning. Have a nice night, princess! I hear it's going to be a dark and stormy one,” Eva laughed while waving Sophie’s ID in the air. 

“Wait!” Sophie pleaded as she desperately tried to open the door, but no matter how much she pushed against them, the doors refused to budge.

She froze as she felt a cold drop of rain fall down her neck. She looked up at the rumbling dark sky. It began to pour. Sophie clung to what little shelter could find at the side of the building. She took out her phone and tried to call Gwyneth, only to find that her screen had shattered completely from when she tripped. She looked around for a Warden but found none. She yanked out her earbuds and angrily threw them into her bag in frustration. Pathetically faint music leaked out of them. She leaned against the wall and sunk until she was sitting with her knees to her chest.

Despite its claims to security, the reality is that the school can’t keep everyone safe. With the majority of students coming from wealthy backgrounds, treating one too harshly could lead to the parents withdrawing their donations. Without those funds, the school would cease to function- something the academy avoided at all costs. As such, there was an unwritten rule that the wealthier the family, the more lenient the punishment. Though many students did not take advantage of this reality, after all attending the academy was a privilege. All except for Eva. Nobody really knows why, but the school would turn a blind eye to her many misdeeds. Some speculated that it was due to her role as one of the academy’s star athletes, others thought that she was secretly related to the headmaster. Regardless of the rumors, the reality was that she was cruel, spiteful, and above all, manipulative. She made a habit of harassing students that had unfortunately drawn her attention. Whether it be through blackmail, harassment, or slander, she would abuse her victim until they were forced to do whatever she wanted. No matter how much students tried to retaliate she always seemed to have the upper hand and the academy would turn the other way. As a result she had gained an infamous reputation amongst the freshmen and sophomores as someone to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately for Sophie, Eva seemed to be obsessed with making her time at the academy as miserable as possible. Eva’s persistence was so overwhelming that Sophie ended up being isolated from the rest of her class out of fear of Eva alone. The only person brave enough to still talk to her was her closest friend Gwyneth. She did her best to make sure that Sophie was rarely alone and felt safe. However, even that backfired. Eva had somehow managed to take a photo of Gwyneth that would lead to her expulsion if revealed to the public. Ever since then, Eva has hung that threat over Sophie’s head and she couldn’t let anything happen to her best friend. As such, Sophie felt so alone. She felt as if she was left to fend for herself against the clutches of a monster.

Sophie pressed her face against her knees, frustration weighing at her heart, and began to cry. Harsh winds began to pick up and slam waves of rain against her. Sophie took a shaky deep breath and slowly rose to her feet. She looked at her surroundings to try to find better shelter. Her gaze eventually lingered on the auditorium. She choked down a cough before grabbing her bag and heading towards the unfinished building.

. . .

The outside of the auditorium was a mix of moldy wood and peeling paint. Its towering size gave it the imposing essence of a Victorian mansion. Overgrown vines and unkept leaves dressed the entirety it’s walls. Sophie steeled herself as she approached the entrance. She stopped under a small awning that hung over the front doors where no rain seemed to fall. Lightning followed by thunder struck as she gripped her rain soaked skirt and wrung out the excess water. She shivered from the cold as she dried herself the best she could. When she finished, she leaned against the door. 

“The dorms open up at 6 am, I’ll be able to get my ID back then,” She thought to herself as she stared at the hole riddled awning. “Maybe father will buy me a new phone, it was pretty old anyways.”

She grabbed her wrist and felt for her bracelet, her only reminder of warmth. A wave of sadness surged through her.

“Mom, Dad, I want to go back home,” She whispered to herself.

Chills spread out through her entire body as the door she braced herself against suddenly flung open with a sharp clang. She regained her balance and turned around. The door’s handle laid on the floor completely broken. The darkness of the auditorium greeted her with a gust of musty, but warm, air. She took a step back only to have the freezing rain fall on the back of her neck. Sophie looked at the entrance with an uneasy face. After a few moments she hesitantly walked in.

The building was much larger than it appeared. A few work-lights left turned on lit the auditorium with sheets of inconsistent light. Door frames to rooms that were used for the construction’s storage lined the walkways. The long hallways on either side of Sophie curved out of view. In front of her sat two large doors. She pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside. She found herself in the academy’s theater. Rows of weathered red fabric seats stepped down into the center stage. The stage’s walnut flooring was scuffed from years of use and subsequent neglect. Two large maroon curtains blocked the view to the backstage.  A small podium sat at the front of it, its paint flaking off to the bare wood. She climbed onto the stage, its visage faintly lit by the work-lights that peered through the half opened doors.

Sophie stared at the seats in a silent awe. She imagined what the theater would look like if it were full of people and wondered why the academy refused to finish renovations. As she pondered, her gaze lowered to the podium. Her eyes narrowed. Faint scratches lined the bottom of it. She wiped a layer of dust off with her hand and revealed a string of faintly recognizable letters.

“Save me?” Sophie slowly read out loud.

“Heard.” A breathy and raspy voice that stretched out every syllable echoed through the theater. “You.”

The doors slammed shut, snuffing out the work-lights and leaving her in complete darkness.

“W-Who’s there?” Sophie stammered.

A bittersweet melody of hums snaked through the dark and into Sophie’s ears in reply.

“Show y-yourself,” Fear gripped at her heart, she clutched her school bag ready to swing it whatever was lurking in the darkness.

“Heard,” The voice repeated, this time more strained. “You.”

“T-This isn’t f-funny, please stop!” She said with a slight whimper.

“Save. You. You. Want. Me. To. Save...” The voice called from behind her causing her to jump in fear.

She swung her schoolbag wildly but it collided against nothing.

“Go. Somewhere. Safe. You. Want. To. Go. Somewhere. Safe. Somewhere. Home...” The voice grew louder.

“Stay away…” She said silently.

Her breaths grew frantic. An overwhelming dread welled in her gut. Panic coursed through her entire body.

“I. Can. Help.” The voice whispered.

A raspy strand of flesh wrapped around her feet before she could react. Her horrified scream was cut short as another strand that gagged her mouth shut. More and more threads wrapped around her body until she was stuck in an airtight cage. She shrieked in muffled terror as she was yanked behind the curtains. Lightning flashed illuminating the theater in a pang of white before decaying back into darkness. Silence followed. The night continued as normal as a stormy night could. Though a few freshmen swore that they heard strange noises coming from the old auditorium that night. Screams of struggles, pleads for help, and a blood curdling shriek to name a few. Of course nobody took it too seriously. It was just a rumor after all.

[eezy-breezey]

Ping Pong Tuesdays

It was a rainy Tuesday in Gotham, which for the diverse youths of the Batfamily meant only one thing. Ping Pong Tuesday.

Ping Pong Tuesdays are a Bi-weekly game hosted by each of the kids at their various headquarters, hide outs or just Dick's old and kind of stale smelling apartment.

This weeks game was to be hosted by Jason.

Tim, Cass and Steph all stood in the back alley to Jason's safehouse. It smelt of beer and urine, most likely from the patrons of the nearby bars. In front of the trio was a large steel door, which looked almost rusted shut, bolts all around the edges of it. To any drunk passerby the door would seem no different than any other, possibly a back entrance into a secret and elusive nightclub, although no one had ever checked.

Tim shuffled his feet, his shoes sticking to the ground. "Why does Jay continue to live here? There are much better hideouts that aren't as sticky."

"It fits his aesthetic" Steph shrugged. Sitting atop her blonde hair was a large golden crown, and a sash that read 'Ping Pong Queen', she had sewed it herself.

Cass stepped forward and pressed one of the bolts on the edge of the door, 3 from the left and 12 from the right. A panel on the door moved, a retinal and fingerprint scanner both slid out from the panels place. Cass moved her eye and finger into position, a green light flashes from the warning light above the door in it's alcove. Clunking and screeching sounds from the locking mechanism behind the door fill the alley. Cass looked back to Tim and Steph, still awkwardly standing in the alley, "Let's go."

The trio made their way upstairs, passing bright red motorbikes, alien tech that flashed and sparkled under the blinking ceiling light, a large weaponry case which sat open in the corner, with bows, arrrows, guns and an axe or two hastily thrown in.

As they continued up the dark staircase voices and sounds became clearer. "I said put me DOWN, TODD!" Tim threw his head back slightly at the sound of Damian's voice. Their relationship had admittedly improved within the last 6 months, yet there was something about his voice that caused Tim to roll his eyes and groan at the slightest sound of it.

Steph reached forward and opened the door to the apartment. Jason stood with Damian thrown over his shoulders like a fireman, the three couldn't see Damian's face but they had a pretty good idea of what it looked like. Duke sat on a bean bag, laughing and smiling, more so at Dick who was trying unsucessfully to get Damian off Jason's much taller shoulders.

"Peasants, your Queen has arrived!" Steph struck a pose as she walked in, flicking her head and crown back.

"Heeyy guys!" Duke smiled and waved as Cass glided past Tim, who was still dragging his sticky feet along the floor, and through the room.

"Took your time, we almost thought you'd been captured by Kite-man or something."

"Todd, release me. NOW." Jason lifted Damian off his shoulder and handed him like an annoyed little kitten, dangling in the air, to Dick who's arms were now outstretched.

"Alright," Jason clapped his hands together as Tim walked through and Steph squeezed in next to Duke on the bean bag. Cass had hopped onto the ping pong table sitting in the middle of the room. "Tonight, as your gracious host, I vote we play Sting Pong."

"Jay," Dick chimed in, "we are not playing that. It'll just turn into a revenge game like last time." Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Last time they played sting pong Tim left with a welt on his back so large it almost resembled Russia.

"I'm not really keen on another game, my welts lasted over a week."

"I mean, I'm up for it."

"Steph of course you're up for it, you never lose."

"Tim it's not my fault that I'm the Ping Pong Queen."

"It sounds like you're afraid to lose again, Drake."

"YES COME ON LET'S GO!" Jason shot up again, smiling, hands up in the air.

"Um, I wasn't here last time, what's sting pong?" Duke almost had his hand up, like asking a question in class, it's an old, hard habit to break.

At this point Dick's face was in his hands, Damian and Cass had already moved to pick up their paddles ready for the first round. Dick was so tired of being the responsible one. "It's exactly like ping pong Duke, except whoever loses the point has to turn their back around while the other person gets a free shot to hit the ball as hard as possible into them."

Duke's face froze in slight horror, "Why is everything so violent with you guys?" The sound of the ball bouncing on the table back and forth had caught the attention of the other kids. Damian and Cass had already started. They held the longest rally record as they were equally stubborn and competitive.

As their rally continued the speed rose sharply, perspiration had started gathering on Damian's brow. The others had gathered around, watching intently while Jason rummaged through the fridge for drinks. OJ for Dick, Cola for Duke, Rootbeer for Steph, Lemonade for Tim and a beer for himself.

Tick, tick, tick. The ball bounced on the cold concrete floor, Cass stood at one end of the table basking in the glory of it's sound, while Damian had tossed his paddle to the side.

"Damn it!!" He yelled through gritted teeth, he looked up to Cass who motioned with her hand. "Turn." Damian turned his back and lifted his shirt up to his shoulders. In one swift motion the ball had smacked into the middle of Damian's back, a choir of 'ooo's came from around the table as they looked at the red welt that had already started forming. Damian was mumbling something under his breath as Tim tried to hide a little snicker, "probably a curse," Tim mused to Steph and Duke.

Jason picked up Damian's paddle on the floor, placing his glass atop the bar behind them. "Alright Dickie, we're up." Dick moved to Cass and exchanged her paddle for his glass of orange juice. "Okay, okay, alright. But I'm serving."

"Fine by me." Jay was shifting the weight through his feet in readiness for Dick's serve.

They were barely even 3 rallys in when Dick performedone of his signature trick shots, the ball bounced on the table then shot off in the opposite direction. Jason had lost. "FUCK!" Jason yelled. Dick smirked as Jason took his shirt off and turned his back towards Dick. "You wanted to play Little Wing, you have to suffer the consequences of losing."

"Shut it Dick and just hit the- OW!!" A red circle was left on Jason's right shoulderblade as the ball bounced his from his skin.

Dick walked back to join the others on the couch and check on Damian who was still mumbling. Losing wasn't a favourite thing of his. Steph jumped up out of her seat and moved to the table, she had brought her own paddle, it was eggplant to match her Spoiler costume. "Tim, you and me, let's go." Tim groaned in his seat, throwing his head back and sliding slightly forward. "Why me? Duke hasn't played a round yet." "No way, I'm not playing against Steph first round, I'll play Jason."

"See, Tim? Come on, you're up." Tim slid off the couch and up to his feet, walking to the table where Jason had left his paddle. Steph wore the crown and sash for a reason, no one could beat her and no one understands how. Tim believes that Cass easily could, but she enjoys seeing her friend happy as the Ping Pong Queen.

As Steph and Tim started their rally Dick sat next to Duke on the loungechair that had been previously occupied by Tim. "So, how many welts do you guys end up with after one night?"

"Well, normally if it was just 2 people you would keep playing until you had finished a proper match, since there are so many of us we play to one point for the first round so we all get a chance. You tend to end up with at least one welt from everyone. Unless you're Steph of course."

Dick had already grabbed another glass of OJ from the fridge, as Cass had claimed his original one.

"OUCH STEPH!!"

"Sorry! Love you!!"

Tim was rubbing his lower back as he walked back to the group, Damian's demeanour seemed to had changed the instant Tim was hit. A slight smirk on his face now.

"Y'know", Jason started, "last time, Damian walked away with a black eye."

"That's because this game is insane." Duke looked around at the losers rubbing various parts of their backs.

"Wait, if you only hit them on their back, then how did he get a black eye?"

Dick and Damian had already moved to the table to play their round, unaware of the conversation happening on the couches.

Cass barely moved as she continued watching Dick and Damian play, studying how to beat them during the next rounds. "Steph."

"Oh yeah, Steph punched him."

@livia-art and I came up with a little Ping Pong Tuesday HC for the Batfam, so here it is!

[writer-and-artist27]

[Image Description: A drawing of what seems to be a photo found on a white surface. The photo depicts an Uchiha carrying his pianist girlfriend in a hug, grinning all the while. The pianist girl smiles back at him with a blush on her face, her sunhat with purple ribbon thankfully staying on her head as he carries her against a white-blue background. Sitting around the photo are a white lily flower with two green leaves, a pink seashell necklace with blue pearls accompanying it, and an orange-blue Konoha Wayfinder. A yellow star sits on the leftmost edge of the white in the photo, with the drawing’s date of “9/26/2020″ sitting below the photo line. End Description.]

Drawn for self care and S&S inspiration, here’s a thing I’d like to think would take place during a S&S beach episode. Maybe. And the first time I’ve drawn Obito post-S&S-Kannabi! So light spoilers? Maybe. The facial burn, I took refs to Zuko, considering what happened in the already released S&S 27. 

(ｏ＿　＿)ｏMy right hand is sore.

On a lighter note, I actually wanted to draw this because the original art reference I took from featured a couple that the canon of that story revealed were half-siblings, so let it be said the incest Squicked me out and I wanted to “fix” that feeling. So, Obito and Tomoko, because this is the first drawing I’ve done since my very quiet birthday on the 24th and they’re cute. Not to mention I’ve been playing FGO and the Second Ascension outfit of the Caster version of Marie Antoinette had me going, “this is cute,” so I wanted to see if Tomoko could pull it off. Hair effects come from the female version of Hakuno Kishinami from Fate/Extra and how irl, whenever I go swimming, the ends of my hair can get curly. 

Lang and Os seemed to like this when I was slowly working on it yesterday and today, so I hope you all like it too. I’m thinking @nekosoralove, @lovingempress, and @kuc1ng-uzumaki will enjoy this the most. 

Now if only my current scanner didn’t cut off parts of the Mermaid Melody pearl compact and wash out the orange of Obito’s Wayfinder, I’d be a bit happier with it. Oh well.

[officialleehadan]

The Bones of a Ship

Hello darlings. Continuing with Prompt Month, here is another amazing Level 35 Patron Prompt!

This story was brought to you by Brandon, who actually gave me the starting prompt for this series. Thank you so much for all your support, darling!

Prompt: Star Light Star Bright

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The silver-white ships kept their distance while the ravens circled. None of them were willing to risk the Kargas, who rode golden-stardust thermals above the Wonder and watched them, a hungry predator waiting for a fish to get too close to the surface.

“We have a decision to make,” Tallulah said as she watched the silver-white ships shadow them. There was nothing for them to hide behind, in the open nothing of space, but they also hadn’t risked another attempt at stopping them. Nor should they. When Greta’s blue stardust Huginn and Muninn circled the whale-ship, they brought back Odin’s Gift of knowledge and Memory with them. The Whale-ship’s files and memory banks. Every scrap of information aboard, borne by starlight back to the Wonder. “We were never supposed to be out this far, and now we’ve made first contact, been threatened, picked a fight, and got more information than we know what to do with.”

“What are you thinking?” Greta asked. She sat at Yaz’s feet as Yaz braided her blonde hair up into warrior’s braids, fastened with beads Greta cut off a necklace her grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother wore into battle. “You’re right that we were never supposed to be this far out, but we weren’t supposed to be moving this fast, either. Our supplies are holding out.”

Between Greta’s currents, carrying them forward through space, and Yaz’s new ability to track their position by the stars, without so much as a glance at the maps, they were traveling far beyond their original flight-path.

The command center on Earth was both pleased and concerned, but they, tentatively, gave permission for the Wonder to carry onward.

They were less pleased about the first contact matter, but there wasn’t much Tallulah could do about that now that it was done.

“She thinks we should go back,” Yaz contributed. A navigator of more than the stars, Yaz had started getting glimpses of something like the future here and there in her stardust. A talent that was slowly getting more powerful. “Back to Earth. We transmitted our data, but that’s not enough, is it? We need to go back into orbit. We need to show them what the Stars showed us.”

“Will the Seal-ships let us through?” Greta had adopted Tallulah’s name for the alien ships as well, lacking anything better to call them. They really did look like hunting seals. “They’ve been shadowing us.”

“They want us to turn back. They don’t get to be mad if we do,” Tallulah said with a shrug. She peeled an orange, careful to keep the skin in one piece as she did. “But I have another reason for going back, besides telling everyone at home what we can do.”

“Oh?” Yaz asked, and tied off Greta’s shieldmaiden braids with a series of clasps. “Want to share your reasoning?”

Tallulah smiled and tossed her orange peel over her shoulder. When she turned to look at it, it shone with golden stardust. When she reached out, the stardust flowed into a shape of its own. The bones of a ship, different form any seen on Earth.

“The Wonder needs a new coat of paint,” she said as the ship, born of feathers and waves and sand flew around them. “She needs to be bigger. Able to take longer trips now that we know how fast we can move. And we need a few more people. People with stories. People with legends.”

“We need a crew,” Greta said, and let the stardust-ship ghost through her fingers, made of light. The ship grew rank upon rank of round shields, each marked with a pattern all their own. The shields overlapped and grew until they became many-banded feathers, shading green where Greta’s stardust merged with Tallulah’s. When Yaz added hers, red stone walls growing to join the feathers into a powerful body, the ship truly took life. The wings, Tallulah admitted, were a bit of vanity for their shared first battle, even as Greta marked the stone hull with waves. “We need a ship that can stand the riptides. You know the whale-ships aren’t their final try to stop us. Not after they saw the Kargas.”

“That’s why we need more legends,” Tallulah said as she examined the image of their new ship. “We need a Crafter. Someone who can know the soul of our ship. We need a Flame, who can light the way in the darkness. We need a Healer, who can build us up when we falter.”

“Three to join our three, our Sailor and Wallbuilder and Dancer,” Yaz said with distant eyes on distant stars. “And one more. A Singer. One who knows not just her own legends, but many, of many peoples.”

“Seven,” Greta said, and patted Yaz’s shoulder as she went to the controls of the ship. As always, the Wonder bent to her will almost before she touched the controls. “She?”

“She,” Tallulah told her with a smile. “All of them. It will take time to find them. Our four, to build a ship with us. We don’t even know if anyone else can touch the stars as we do, or if the legends chose us to be aboard the Wonder because only we could.”

“There will be others,” Yaz said confidently. She joined Greta at the controls and Tallulah sank into her chair at the scanners. “Tell the Seal-ship we’re coming around. It wouldn’t do for them to think we’ve decided to eat them just as they’re getting what they want.”

“Somehow, I don’t think they’ll like our current plan much better.”

“That sounds like a ‘them’ problem to me, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I think,” Greta said, and raised her hands, waves rising around their ship and sparkling into a fast moving current that swirled them towards home. “That we will have plenty more conversations with them when they find out just how many legends we have back home.”

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Star Light Star Bright:

Three woman took to the stars. Three women learned that the Stars hold secrets of their own that humanity has yet to rediscover.

Call the Stars

Our Legends True

Little Fish (Free on Patreon!)

Wings and Wings and Wings

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More Stories!

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[eltanin-malfoy]

Life Kills (Kill Or Be Killed I)

pairing : draco/fem-collegestudent!y/n (not that romantic.. or platonic)

word count : 3.4k!

warnings : smoking, swearing, mentions of murder/violence/poisoning, angst!!!!

a/n : this is set in an original modern non-magic AU, and the story is based off of (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, DO NOT CHECK OUT THE PROMPT UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPOIL THE REST OF THE STORY lol) this prompt on @writing-prompt-s. there is no real romance between draco and y/n in this chapter, and i’m not exactly sure there will be. the premise of this story kind of makes that a little crazy. for now, it’s pretty much just animosity. there is the slightest possibility of this turning into a slow burn fic.. so hold on, i guess. this is definitely not your typical x reader. at all. i would appreciate any and all feedback from you guys! requests are open as well :) also i hate smoking irl but it just fit here, sorry.

Chapter 1 : Life Kills

Smoke. 

That beloved scent filled Draco’s lungs as he took a drag from the wrinkled brown stick in his hand, his steely eyes shutting as its end glowed red. He held it away for a few seconds as he exhaled, white clouds slipping out of his lips into the cold air in front of him. His eyes followed his own exhalation into the sky, his fingers fidgeting with the green lighter he’d used to ignite his toxic addiction with. 

He grinned, then brought the cigarette to his lips for another puff, then another, then another, till slowly, the tube of tar was finally used up. He folded up what was left of his papery weapon with his thin fingers and finally tossed it to the ground. He reached into his pocket for his pack, searching for even more release.

He lifted his gaze to the scene in front of him, the concrete jungle that was Bond Street. The expensive logos were practically calling out his name. It’s just my fucking luck, isn’t it? He scowled at the crowds gathered around the area. My lovely parents just had to go get themselves arrested and leave me all by myself. He instinctively grit his teeth as memories of his awful father fluttered through his brain. At least I don’t have to associate with that.. that.. tyrant anymore. 

“Draco? Two minutes left in your break, son.”

The pale blonde rolled his eyes as he stared out front, but looked back and flashed his elderly boss a (fake) smile. She nodded and stepped back inside, arms crossed around her portly frame as she shivered. 

It had only been a few months since his parents had been arrested by the government after being convicted of illegally possessing and smuggling famed works of art, literature and the like. When the authorities first began their investigation, Lucius had said that it would all work itself out, even though the police’s suspicions were absolutely correct. He had connections everywhere, after all. But, alas! A search warrant had made its way to Malfoy Manor before his parents had the opportunity to sweep everything under the rug, and.. even their very expensive defence lawyer wasn’t able to hide the fact that they were caught red handed.

This had led to a crapload of problems in Draco’s own life. To begin with, he wouldn’t be able to see his mother for at least another decade. His parents’ fortune (and his trust fund, of course!) was seized by the government, leaving him absolutely broke, and forced to drop out in the second year of his Chemistry degree at the very prestigious Oxford University. He’d tried hard to find some kind of a placement in any of his parents’ friends’ companies, but no, they’d decided to stop associating with any member of the Malfoy clan. So, he managed what he could and left his old grand life in Wiltshire for some kind of meagre lifestyle in London. Working as a cashier at Tesco probably wasn’t the worst thing he could be doing.. It was minimum wage, but, it wasn’t hard. Didn’t require much energy. 

Draco, for one, had never understood his parents’ motivation to undertake that.. that.. stupidity. 

His parents’ family fortune had had practically no purpose in the first place. There wasn’t a glint of compassion in his father’s heart, and all he wanted to use it for was to satisfy his own wants. Illegally purchasing stolen historical artifacts? Of course. Selling them off to others for even greater profits? Sure! But giving a beggar even a single pound? Absolutely not. This total greed and attitude of disgust his father had had used to interest him when he was younger, back in secondary school. He’d made a habit of showing off his wealth and talking down to those who didn’t have much in comparison. But as he grew up.. he’d realised how awful it was.

Especially now that he was only twenty, absolutely alone and having to live off of four hundred pounds a week. It seemed like a lot, at first, but once you factored in rent, food and basic needs, he was barely left with a handful to work with. His heart practically broke every time he caught sight of a homeless person and somehow, so different to his former self, he’d find himself searching in his wallet for spare notes to hand them.

He quickly opened up the pack of cigarettes and pulled out one to satiate himself, stress bubbling up in his veins. He shoved the box almost haphazardly back into the pocket of his coat, then held it to his lips and flicked his lighter, the brilliant orange flame lighting the tip of the cigarette. He took a drag and looked around again, slowly turning to walk back to his place of work. He took a few deep puffs and was just about to trash it when he heard.. what sounded like a struggle? 

He headed down the alleyway, to a bit of a darker turn, instinctively slicking back his platinum blonde hair. He finally got a glimpse of what was happening. There was a girl, probably around the same age as him, having a dynamic disagreement with a.. homeless old person? His protective instincts kicked into gear as he saw her swatting at him with the umbrella in her hand, yelling at him for what sounded like.. attempting to trip her?

The old man was shielding himself with a blanket, his arms over his head as he called for help. Draco, feeling almost like his saviour, pushed the girl away, which, he realised was not the best move with his tall figure, made her fall to the ground with a loud squeal. The old man set the blanket down and looked up at the lack of commotion, then gave the lanky blonde a smile. He even mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ and Draco waved his hand, reassuring him that it was no big deal.  He took a deep breath, about to turn on his heel to leave, but found himself scowling down at the girl, who was slowly getting up again.

“Why did you do that?” She panted, her hair messy as she got back onto her feet. She wasn’t exactly well built herself, her face was a bit pale and there were hints of shadows under her eyes as she glared up at him. She dusted herself off and placed her hand on her denim-covered knee, wincing the slightest bit. She quickly rose up again and brought her hands to her hips. “Don’t need to look at me like that.” She clenched her jaw and Draco realised that he’d been silent all this while.

“Don’t need.. idiots like you treating helpless people the way you did. Fucking awful, that was.” He looked her over quickly, his gaze pausing at the straps of the backpack on her shoulders. “You.. you students think you can just get away with anything, don’t you?” He found himself getting a bit more heated, his cheeks slowly beginning to turn purple. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco rolled his eyes and finally turned to leave, walking back down the alleyway without a word. “Well, we don’t need pricks like you defending these oh so helpless people when they try to steal something from someone.” She called out after him and he stopped, staring to the front, before looking over his shoulder. Instead of locking eyes with her, he saw the same homeless man, staring into space as he huddled up with that blanket. Draco felt the slightest pang of guilt in his gut, but ignored it and continued, still choosing to believe that she was just.. an embodiment of his own father. 

Nasty and entitled. He thought to himself as he slipped off his coat, setting it on a rack in the Employee’s Only room. Bet she hasn’t known any real problems in her life. Bet she’s not even a fucking good student. He felt his rage boiling up within him again, but stared at himself in the small mirror by the door. He placed his hands on his reddened cheeks and forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths and reassuring himself of his own ability. Looking very flustered wasn’t exactly ideal for a cashier in a supermarket, after all.

***

Draco ran the carton of milk over the scanner. Beep. He passed it over to the red haired boy to the side of him, who began to stuff it into a plastic bag. He tried his best not to glance at his customer, but his curiosity bested him and he reluctantly flashed the dark middle aged man a smile. He shook it off and stared at the monitor in front of him. “That’ll be ninety four pounds and thirty pence, sir.” He looked over at the man as he pulled out his wallet and ruffled through it to hand him a few notes, along with a few coins. 

“Oh, and I found this in the Car Care aisle.” He pulled out yet another wallet from his pocket, a black, leather one… just like Draco’s father’s.. He let out a sharp exhale and gently took it from him, setting it on the counter. “Thank you, sir. We’ll announce that it’s missing right away.”

The boy then stuffed the notes into the drawer of the cashier, pulling out the one and returning it to the man. “Here’s your change! Thank you for shopping at Tesco, have a nice day!” He forced the words out of his mouth, his voice dry. He could act well, back in the day, but now, he wasn’t exactly willing to try. The ginger opened his mouth to speak. “Hope to see you again, sir, thanks for returning the wallet you found!” A bright smile on his stupid face. Ugh! Always got to suck up to them, doesn’t he? Draco grit his teeth as he shut the register, looking up to see that there was no more customers queuing at the counter. 

He opened up the wallet and looked it over, then noticed the name on a credit card in one of the sleeves to the front. There were a couple of ID cards in the others, but.. he couldn’t exactly be bothered. He leaned down and pulled out the small microphone wired to the counter, thought his announcement up, pressed the button besides it and opened his mouth to speak. 

“A black leather wallet belonging to a Y/N Y/L/N was just found in the Car Care aisle. Kindly approach counter number 4 for more details, please.” He called out, almost monotonously, closing the wallet up and setting it away. He turned it off and set it away. He looked over at the wallet again and goddamn Lucius’ face flashed in his mind again. 

“Can’t seem to learn to act a little nicer, can you, Draco?” Draco lifted his gaze to look over at him, eyes flitting down to the name tag by his collar. Ron… what a bloke to be forced to spend these hours with.. Draco furrowed his brows and just shook his head. “No, I can’t. And that’s the way it’ll be. I’m saying what I have to say, and I shouldn’t be judged for not feeling like a chirpy little bird all the time.” “Okay.. whatever.” Ron rolled his eyes and fiddled around with the bags attached to the hooks by the counter, then looked around. “Not a very busy day today, is it?” 

Draco looked down as his eyes widened, somehow Ron had mastered getting on his nerves. “No, it’s not. Not a lot of people out this late at night on a Sunday, Ron.” He looked over at the digital clock by the exit of the store, tilting his head and rolling his shoulders lightly. ‘10:47’  The clock read. Less than a quarter of an hour until my shift ends and I can get out of this shithole. He stared into space as he bit down on his lip, grateful that Ron had finally decided to remain silent. It wasn’t too chilly inside, but it was unbearable for every other reason. This forced happiness with every single customer, the annoying radio somehow constantly playing only the songs he seemed to hate, his annoying bag packer.. maybe retail really wasn’t for him. He shook his head and fiddled with the edge of his blue uniform shirt, staring at the clock and waiting for time to pass. 

Easy money, isn’t it? He continued to think to himself. Have to press a couple of buttons, say a couple of words, stay in my place, everything works out. He took a deep breath. Good cover too. No one’s too careful with managing who does the shifts either.. Great alibi, Draco. Could just lie and write my name up in the lists.. No one even cares. A small smile grew on his face. No one would even know if it was me.. Not one. Murder isn’t that hard when you’ve got control of the inventory as well. Change a couple numbers, bag a couple of items and take them out with you through the employee’s exit, no one would even know a thing. 

After having to leave university, Draco had grown very, very confused as to what direction to steer his life in. Money wasn’t exactly what he was after.. and it seemed like any past hopes of his of being a research scientist were pointless without some kind of a degree. Chemistry had been his subject of choice, much to his father’s great disdain. He was fine with Draco not even going into tertiary education at all, he had the family business going for him, didn’t he? If you could call it that, then yes. But.. it wasn’t for him. Smuggling wasn’t what interested him, really. It was murder, now.

Draco had liked reading about true crime since he was a child. The horrors, the mysteries and everything else had fascinated him to no end. He thought it had just been some kind of juvenile interest of his, some way to satisfy his curiosity. He could never have seen himself attempting any of that. But that was until he was forced out of his lush lifestyle, this whole change had not only upped his anger and generosity towards the rich and the poor, respectively, but also his desire to get rid of the stress inside of him. Nicotine had soon become his drug of choice but.. 

He craved something more.

Roland Hoyt… oh boy.. That was the one serial killer Draco had truly been fascinated by. That absolute genius had managed to kill eight people in an old English town with the use of chemicals. It was some mixture of cyanide and barbiturates that he had managed to feed to most of his victims which lead to their death, but what had truly drawn Draco in was the few cases in which Hoyt managed to use his own version of the famed lethal injection. It was beyond wicked, truly. Draco felt like it would be one hell of an insane mission, had felt crooked to the bone even thinking about doing it, but truly, there was no better way to get out his frustration than to just.. do the same. He couldn’t exactly afford any kind of games, or gym membership or as such any longer. And even his most recent ex, Pansy, had seemed to lose any interest in him once he lost his fortune. Talking to girls wasn’t exactly his forte to begin with, anyways. 

He just wanted to try it, really. Out of curiosity. Just someone who no one would miss, would even know they were missing. He knew it was absolutely awful of him to even try.. But he’d studied up enough to know how to get away with it, and try he very well would. Or at least try to try, right?

He was snapped out of his thoughts with a nudge to the shoulder from his accompanying bag packer. His head shot up and looked over at him. “What is it, Weasley?” Ron pointed over at the other side of the counter where a new customer was stood.

“Not you again..” 

Draco suddenly froze, instantly recognising that voice. He looked up hesitantly and locked eyes with her. It’s that bitch from earlier! Should bar her from coming in here, really! He grit his teeth and pursed his lips slightly, but soon opened his mouth to speak. “Good evening, miss.” His tone seemed a bit cheery, but was obviously rich in sarcasm. “The wallet’s mine.. “ He almost snarled at this, but placed the wallet on the counter. “Are you sure? Or are you just trying to..? You really Y/N Y/L/N?”

She rolled her eyes and took the wallet, opening it up delicately. “Do you really think I’d steal a wallet? You shouldn’t be allowed to work here, honestly.” She pushed a single bottle of antifreeze forwards, fiddling with the ends of her hair. Draco quickly sized her up as she moved forward. The backpack was gone, replaced by a small satchel bag over her shoulder. She seemed to have changed as well, while he couldn’t remember what kind of shirt she was wearing, the jeans she had on were replaced by some shorts.. and what seemed like a small plaster over her knee. He took the bottle of antifreeze and brought it up to the scanner.

“Well, good thing I have a kind manager, then.” He rolled his eyes as the machine beeped, passing the bottle along to Ron, who almost dropped it at first. Draco looked over at him and his eyes were practically stuck on the girl as she glared at Draco. She suddenly looked over at Ron as well, launching into another attack. “Has Tesco seriously started employing assholes who push customers around when no one else is looking?” She bit down on her lip, awaiting some kind of a response.

“Well-well..” Ron stuttered out and Draco couldn’t help but cringe for him, pressing a few buttons on the register. “He’s just the one.. Really. The rest of us are.. not bad.” The girl seems unsatisfied with this response, but continued to look at him, studying his reaction. “So.. you’re not bad then?” She asked, eyeing the redhead quizzically now. “I can be great for a pretty girl like-” “That’ll be seven pounds.” Draco looked over at Ron to see him staring back disapprovingly, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel the slight snarl growing on his face, but snapped out of it, knowing he couldn’t have this girl actually complain about him to his superiors. “Paying by card?” He flipped a card reader over to her, then pressed a few buttons on his own register. She nodded and fit it into the slot, waiting patiently as it flashed an ‘Approved’ sign. “There..”

Draco rolled his eyes yet again, reaching over to grasp the receipt that had just finished printing out. “Miss, you need to sign and write down your contact number here. Just for verification purposes.” He placed a pen right next to it and took a slight step back, studying her for a second. She seems.. easy? A bit violent.. But easily taken care of. Fell like a twig. He shook the thought from his head for a second, looking down as she finished up.

Almost unpredictably, she looked up and flashed Ron a smile, whose ears immediately flushed pink. Sure enough, the signatures matched and he handed her her bag, after which, she soon stepped out. “What the hell was that, Ron?” Ron just shook his head and looked over at her, before glancing back at the Employees Only room.

Y/N Y/L/N. He thought. How convenient. He looked over at the girl exiting, making a mental note. He quickly closed up the register and placed a ‘Next Counter Please’ sign for the next employee to take off. Ron had already cleaned up his area and had started heading back to the Employees Only room, probably to change. 

Y/N. Draco finished up and put his hands in his pockets, heading back himself as he noticed a few other employees shuffling over. Physically, she’s an ordinary female, but mentally, just as spoilt and awful as Father.

Think I’ve found myself a first victim, haven’t I?

Chapter 2

[lazella]

Papa Tony

Been really looking forward to finishing and posting this. We all know that Tony adopts pretty much anyone so let the dad instincts commence!

Tony read over the scans on his monitor. He had hooked up Yugi to every medical scanner he had as soon as he found out that the Soul Stone seemed to have fused with his body. The Soul Stone was the most mysterious of all the stones so who knew what the effects on Yugi were.

“Is all this necessary?” Yugi asked from where he laid on the table.

“You’ve got a rock that contains cosmic power potentially in your brain so yes…” Tony said as he switched to viewing brain scans, “I’m pretty sure you want it out.”

Yugi just let a hum and just relaxed as Tony continued his examination. He was about to switch screens when he noticed something. One of Yugi’s brainwaves was very active, the one that indicated speaking. But Yugi was silent. Tony was about to chuck it up to internal thought only for a second wave to show up. The two waves took turns being active, as if in conversation.

“Yugi?”

“Yes?”

“Are you talking to someone right now?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because according to what I see, you are talking to someone right now. So depending on your answer I should consider this normal or I will get very concerned.”

“Oh…” Yugi looked a little comfortable and fell silent. The scans indicated that he was back in his internal conversation before he spoke out loud again, “Do you believe in magic Tony-san?”

“I have a few wizards on speed dial and friends with a god so yes…I do believe in magic.”

“Okay…” This seemed like a relief to Yugi, “I’ve got another me who shares my body.”

“Another personality?”

“Not quite like that…he’s got not memory of his past or his name, so he shares mine. The only clue we have was that he was in Egyptian Pharaoh in life.”

“So you’ve got a dead guy in your head? How did he get there?!”

“It happened when I completed this Puzzle,” Yugi sat up and held up his large gold pendant for Tony to see. He had wondered why Yugi wore something that was so bulky.

“So magical artifact had a guy sealed in it…no other curses or anything?” Tony asked.

“None that I know of.”

“So I’m going to file this under normal for you…” Tony said as he closed down the screens.

“It’s normal as Yugi and I can get.”

Tony had to do a double take. Yugi’s voice changed only slightly. His posture was slightly different and there was something off about his eyes.

“Apologies I figured that I introduce myself since you are now aware of me.”

“Nearly gave me a heart attack that’s what…” Tony sighed, “You neglected to mention that you can switch out like that.”

“Most people don’t notice…Then again they don’t know what to look for.” The not-Yugi said.

“Just as long as you two get along Your Majesty I don’t think any of us will take issue…”

The not-Yugi arched an eyebrow, “Your Majesty?”

“Yugi said you were a Pharaoh and I’m not going to call you ‘Yugi’…that will just get confusing…” Tony said, “Now then…I’m sure there are few people I can call to see if we can resolve this memory loss problem.”

This seemed to surprise the not-Yugi, “You’ll do that?”

“Kid…there’s no way in good conscious let you walk around with no identity. I’m sure it has caused a few problems.”

“It has…a few life or death situations actually.”

The coffee cup Tony was holding shattered on the floor, “HOW?!”

“A few people have taken issue that I’m…still here.” Not-Yugi admitted.

“No…no no…no no NO!” Tony grabbed Not-Yugi’s arm and started drag him off, “Come on!”

“Where are we going.”

“We are going to see someone about your memory issue then getting you equipment so that people don’t stick you two into life or death situations!”

“I usually win though…”

“THAT IS NOT THE POINT!”

…………………………………..

Tony munched on popcorn has he watched Natasha and Judai spar. Curiosity was sparking in his head as he wondered how a seventeen-year-old boy was keeping up with a trained assassin but Judai seemed to dodge any sort of inquiry. So for now, it was observation time.

Judai dodged another punch from Natasha and went to kick her legs out from under her. She saw this coming and stepped back far enough to through him off balance. Natasha then grabbed Judai’s wrist and twisted it behind his head.

Judai had a quite a visible wince on his face trying to get out of Natasha’s grip as she got his other hand. Tony reached for his other bag of popcorn getting a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

Something snapped in Judai, his eyes flashing orange and green and claws growing sharp. Natasha was shocked at the change causing her to lose her grip a bit. Judai took his chance and flipped Natasha over his head and pinned her down with a foot on her chest.

“Nice one kid!” Tony clapped, “Never seen anyone throw Natasha like that and…” He trailed off, noticing the look on Judai’s face. It like he was frozen in a moment of panic eyes still glowing green and orange.

“Judai….hey Judai! Snap out of it!”

Judai blinked back to alertness, eyes returning to their normal brown, “Ah! Sorry! So sorry about that!” He got off Natasha and offered a hand, “Instincts took over…”

“It’s fine…” Natasha said as she accepted the help up. “I’ve been through worse.”

“But this was supposed to be a friendly spar…” Judai said, “And I…” He trailed off.

“And I what?” Natasha prodded.

“I…I…” Judai looked at the ground in shame, “I acted like it was the real deal…”

“So.” Was the causal response from Natasha.

This caught Judai off guard, “I could have killed you! My instincts just takes over and then…”

“Kid we nearly kill each other every day.” Tony shrugged munching on more popcorn, “Just ask Bruce how many times he threw us through walls when he had gone Hulk.”

“B-but…” Judai stuttered in shock, “You all…”

“We just learn each other’s quirks and adapt.” Tony said, “Some of our allies were people who tried to kill us so it’s really not a detracting factor. In fact, crazy dark backstories just makes you fit in even more.”

Judai blink, frowned, then laughed a bit, “I never…though of it like that.”

“Welcome to the world of superheroes…” Tony laughed, “Now that I think about it, you should already know about that since I do know that deck of your IS superhero themed.”

Now Judai was laughing even harder, “Your right! I should know that!”

“Atta boy…now let’s see what you can really do against Natasha.” Tony said as he sat back down with his popcorn.

“Are you sure…I mean…” Judai was still somewhat unsure.

“Would you rather go against Hulk?” Natasha proposed.

“This is fine…”

……………………………………

“I have to admit Mr. Stark, the technology and construction you’ve done in your suits is amazing.”

Tony sure liked Yusei. The kid was brilliant. Any sort of engineering or physics problem was second nature to the kid. Finally he had someone who could keep up with his nerd talk.

“You still owe me an explanation about your motorcycle.” Tony said, “You did say you built it yourself from scrap.”

Yusei chuckled a bit, “I sure did…” He turned to the bike that was parked in the corner of the lab. “I’ve replaced parts of the engine with better quality materials over the years but the frame is the same.”

“Quite the impressive work…I can’t believe your self taught,” Tony said as he tapped the metal casing of the D-Wheel. “Mind if I take a peek?”

“Go right ahead,” Yusei opened the engine compartment.

Tony whistled. When Yusei said that his bike didn’t run on gasoline he just had to figure out what the alternative fuel that he used. The circuitry was like artwork linking all the parts together. The main engine hub was impressive. It seemed to be spinning round and round and…

Why did Tony feel like he had read theories about this before?

“Yusei…am I looking at a perpetual energy machine?”

“Not quite…This a smaller version of the main Momentum reactor that acts as our main power source,” Yusei explained, “After many years of operation we found a flaw that caused it to build up too much power internally which has a risk of causing a catastrophic explosion. I helped develop a counter generator called Fortune to absorb the excess energy and feed it back into the system.”

Tony now had a notepad in his hand making calculations, “So a perpetual energy machine in two parts…now how to combine them into one…”

Yusei raised an eyebrow, “Mr. Stark��what are you doing?”

“Making improvements…you wouldn’t happen to have blueprints of those two reactors on you?”

“I…do actually….” Yusei ejected a flash drive from his bike, “My father was the one who developed the original Momentum.”

Tony could recognize the expression on Yusei’s face, it was one he had quite often.

“He died when you were young…didn’t he?”

“I was just a baby…” Yusei sighed, “His work was sabotaged, and his last act was to get me to safety.”

“Sounds like he was a good man…” Tony patted Yusei on the back, “Now let’s review those blueprints and see what we can do…”

……………………….

New York Central park was a popular destination for both locals and tourists to visit. Many fun sights to see and take photos off. Though those who were celebrity followers were surprised to find millionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark sitting on a park bench with ice cream in his hand sitting next to a boy with duel colored hair, also with ice cream in hand.

Tony paid no mind to the gawkers. “So Yuma…thoughts on the ice cream?”

“It’s good but…” Yuma frowned, “Still confused as to why you suddenly dragged me out of the tower just for ice cream? We passed at least four other places on the way here.”

“Because I can tell you were going nuts being cooped up inside all day.” Tony pointed out, “Making a fortress out of cardboard and bits of my suits then trying to jump over it in one go was the tipping point.”

Yuma blushed in embarrassment.

“And there’s the fact you’re talking to yourself…”

“That part is not true.” Yuma pouted, “I told you several times about Astral.”

“So invisible friend?”

“He’s not invisible…just visible to some people.” Yuma pointed out.

“That still counts as invisible.” Tony responded.

Yuma stuck his tongue out, “Thor can see him.”

“Well lucky him…he get’s all the cool stuff.” Tony took another lick of ice cream, “I have to build my cool stuff.”

“Then why don’t you invent something so that you can see Astral?”

Tony paused, Yuma had a very good point. He was a genius after all. He wasn’t going to let something like being chosen with magical powers stop from doing anything.

“Fair point…I concede victory to you Yuma.” Tony said, “I need you to hang around to give good ideas more often.”

Yuma smiled, “Thanks for the ice cream by the way.”

“Anytime kid.” Tony smiled back, “Just say the word and we’ll do it again.”

……………………..

“You got me a what?”

“She’s called a therapist Yuya. She won’t bite you, her job is to talk to you and figure out your own head.”

“Um…no offence Tony…” Yuya scratched the back of his head, “I don’t think she’s going to believe what I have to say.”

“She’s the Avenger’s personal therapist. She’s heard everything past the sun. A patient with four people in his head will not be a new thing for her.”

Yuya was still unconvinced, “I don’t know about the others though…especially Yuri.”

“Which is more of a reason to start now. Listen kid…” Tony started rustling Yuya’s hair, “I can tell you’ve been bottling up a lot of things which is not healthy for a kid…or kids…that are only fourteen years old. You haven’t slipped much but it doesn’t take much to figure out that you still need help.”

“I DON’T NEED HELP!!!” Yuya suddenly shouted then shrunk back on himself, “….sorry.”

“I guess that was Yuri.”

“Yeah…he doesn’t talk to any of us about his past….I mean he talks about current stuff but the moment we start sharing childhood stories he clams up. What makes you think he’s going to open up to a complete stranger?”

“You never know until you try…” Tony admitted, “Just ask Pepper how many times she had to drag my butt to a therapist, she didn’t give up on me for sure. How about you just try once and see how you feel?”

“Okay…” Yuya slowly nodded, “What if I don’t like it?”

“Then we’ll try something else.”

That seemed to be the reassurance Yuya needed to enter the room out of his own free will. Out of courtesy and patient confidentiality, Tony waited outside. A good hour later, Yuya came out though based on the way he was walking it wasn’t Yuya in control.

“So…which one….” Tony said trying to figure out which one he was talking too.

“Yugo sir…the others are in a deep conversation. I didn’t have as much to get off my chest so I took the reins.”

“So I take it that the therapist help?”

“I don’t know why Yuya didn’t go to one sooner…then again I don’t know if we even have them back home.”

“Sounds like that’s a problem we need to fix.” Tony muttered, “So…while the other three are in their talk…what to come to my lab and tinker with a few things?”

“Do I?!” Yugo was bouncing on his feet.

“Then lets go!” With a cackle they ran down to the lab.

………………………………..

Tony was fiddling with his latest project with Bruce in his lab. Yusaku was quietly working on a nearby computer giving a death glare to anyone who came close. Tony just left him be. Programing seemed to be more of Yusaku’s forte rather than engineering. He just needed to focus on this new reactor to see if he can give it more juice.

“You sure it’s okay to work on this with the kid in the lab?” Bruce asked.

“We have enough safety precautions in place and he’s far away enough.” Tony reassured him, “Now pass me that soldering iron and let’s hook this baby up.”

Bruce complied and took a few steps back. Tony a look in his eye that spelt trouble, trouble Bruce really didn’t want to be in, but a responsible adult had to be in the room. Tony finished the connection and removed his googles, “Time to light this baby up!” Like a giddy child, he started the power core. The reactor light up as expected but then started sparking.

“Tony…” Bruce began warning him.

“It should die down…” Tony was about to explain himself only for the reactor to start sparking more.

“Turn it off!!!” Bruce yelled.

“Trying!” Tony yelled back as he hurried to cut the power taking a quick glance at Yusaku. The boy was fully aware of what was going on but had not left his corner.

“Kid run!!!” Tony yelled at Yusaku which seemed to snap the boy to attention. He began to creep his way around the edge of the lab being very cautious of the flying sparks.  Electric sparks continued to fly turning into streams as the reactor started to critical. Tony was fumbling at this point trying to find the wires and disconnect them as the switch was now effectively dead. Feeling the plug in his hand he yelled out…

“Hit the deck!!!”

He broke the connection. The reactor let out one last flash of sparks then fell silent. With the danger passed, Tony and Bruce shakily got up from the floor.

“Well there goes today’s work…” Tony muttered.

Bruce didn’t comment instead looked around the room, “Where did the kid go?”

Tony looked around as well, there was no sign of Yusaku. “Hey kid? You okay? Where’d you go?”

“TONY!!!”

Tony ran around the table to where Bruce was crouched down. Yusaku was on the floor twitching. Tony started cursing under his breath. Did Yusaku get struck by the electricity?

“Hey!” Tony lightly shook Yusaku’s shoulder, “Speak to me.”

Yusaku didn’t answer but was mumbling. Tony only caught bits that sounded like ‘sorry’ and ‘I’ll keep trying’.

“Aw man don’t do this now!!!”

Tony and Bruce looked at Yusaku’s wrist device where the AI was poking out of.

“Snap out of it already!”

“What’s going on?” Tony asked.

“He’s stuck in another episode…” The AI said, “The electricity must have triggered him.”

Tony felt his heart drop, was Yusaku suffering from a PTSD episode? With great care, he rolled Yusaku over and tried to stabilize his trembles.

“Hey Yusaku…look at me.”

Yusaku blinked a few times but he seemed to be focusing on Tony now.

“Can you tell me where you are?”

“I-I’m….” Yusaku stuttered a bit, “In a lab…”

“Who’s lab?”

“Y-yours…”

“That’s right…come on…” Tony helped the shaking boy up, “Fresh air will do us all good.”

Bruce helped Tony walk Yusaku out of the lab and towards one of the sitting areas by a balcony. Easing Yusaku into a chair, Tony took the seat next to him while Bruce went to get drinks.

“So…feeling better?” Tony asked.

“I’m better….” Yusaku sighed, “I apologize…I haven’t had an episode like that in a while.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No…it was years ago anyway and I’ve got closure…” Yusaku said.

“If you say so…” Tony said as he downed the scotch that Bruce brought back, “Sorry about the scare though.”

“Perhaps I should not work while you are playing with dangerous equipment.” Yusaku said as he took some lemonade.

“How about I set you up with your own laptop?” Tony proposed, “That way you can work wherever you want.”

Yusaku actually smiled, “I would like that.”

[superrobotmonkeyteamramblingsgo]

Things that Never Happened - Ally

You were once my closest ally

Summary - Otto makes his choice and sides with Mandarin. And so Mandarin achieves his goal of leading Shuggazoom and makes it the utopia he promised Otto is would be. But Otto is seeing that this peace come at a price, and it is becoming quite steep.

A/N - Remember those ‘5 things that never happened’ fic prompts? Yeah, this was suppose to be just one story out of five for that, but given how I’ve working on this one story for years, heaven’s knows if I’ll ever get the other four done. Figuring out he Mandarin-Otto dynamics in this was the main reason this took so long.

It was the smell that Otto first came aware of, even through the fog and haze that covered his mind as he woke up. It was rather delicious smell of cinnamon and nuts that made his stomach rumble.

The second thing he became aware of, even with his eyes closed, was the light. He groaned and made the mistake of opening them straight into the open window, causing him to shut them immediately again with a wince.

The third thing was that his workshop didn’t have a window. Actually, his workshop also didn’t have a seat as comfy as the one he was lying on. That caused him to sit straight up, eyes now wide awake as he took in the airy and clean room that was the antithesis of his dark and dirty workshop.

 Admittedly, it was a great way to wake up: on a soft bed in the morning light to a delicious smell in a room where he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over any of his several projects. But the issue was that, last he remembered, he never left his workshop.

 He sighed and –reluctantly- got out of bed and opened the door of his room, intensifying the smell of baked goods. “Jinmay.”

His room opened out to the short hallway and then the kitchen where he saw her pulling out a tray of muffins from the oven. She giggled as she turned towards him. “Well good morning Otto! I hope you slept well! I just got done making muffins for breakfast!”

“Jinmay,” He repeated, trying to be as strict as possible in his voice (how did Mandarin always make it seem so easy?) as he walked into the kitchen.“What did we discuss about interrupting me while I’m down in my workshop?”

She frowned as she put the tray down on the counter. “I know, but you’ve been down there for days! You had me worried and I figured that you could at least use some time in an actual bed with a good meal.” She put the muffins on a platter and set them down on the table. “At least eat something before you head back.”

A quick check of his internal clock confirmed that it had been almost five days since he locked himself in his workshop, trying to figure out what was causing the weird readings from their surveillance satellites. The reading were far too similar to the ones they would get on the Super Robot’s scanners, in the days of before, but at least they weren’t originating from Shuggazoom. Their city was in peace, but the readings were enough of a concern to consume him for five days. Five whole days of sleeping on his hard work-bench and eating rations, and away from Jinmay.

He sighed. “Alright, but next time how about you wake me up before moving me?”

 “Only if you promise to actually come back with me, and not just say you will.” She placed one of the muffins on a small plate that she then handed to him with a smile. “And I mean it about not going back until you eat something substantial. Start with this and I’ll make you something else. Anything you’re craving?”

“Maybe bacon and eggs,” He took the plate as she returned to the kitchen and began pulling out more pans. But he noticed how she was also trying to keep the corner of her eye on him, actually stopping to watch intensely as he took his first bite, even though she was trying to be discreet about it.

That kind of intense anticipation only happened when she was waiting for his reaction to her newest recipe.

He chewed and had to admit the muffin was as good as it smelt: a nice blend of nuts and spices, with a hint of something that he couldn’t identify. He took another, bigger bite as he gave her a thumbs up. “It’s good!” He muffled through his mouth full of muffin.

Jinmay let out a high pitched screech that he might not have heard if it wasn’t for his cyber-ears. “Yes, yes, yes!” She jumped and clasped her hands. “Otto, do you know what flavor of muffin you just ate?”

He blinked at he looked down at the baked good in his hand. “Nuts?”

“Close,” She giggled. “It’s banana nut.”

Otto stopped mid-chew, looked between her and the muffin, and resumed chewing in a slow, thorough manner. “Huh”

Assessing the flavor again, he guessed that the taste he couldn’t identify might be banana, but it certainly didn’t taste as disgusting as they usually did. He begrudgingly gave his approval by taking another bite, half of the muffin now eaten.

Jinmay was practically vibrating in joy and mirth. “I told you I would find a way for you to eat bananas, didn’t I?”

Otto shook his head, though with a smile. When his last physical revealed several concerning vitamin and mineral deficits, Jinmay had taken upon herself to be his personal nutritionist and chef. Each deficiency had been easily remedied through careful meal planning, except for potassium. A supplement or any other food source could have been utilize to resolve his hypokalemia, but Jinmay had stubbornly decided that it would be bananas or bust once he mentioned how much he hated them. She was determined to find some recipe that would get him to eat his bananas.

And now she succeeded, Otto thought as he began wolfing down a second muffin. Jinmay was humming a victory song as she began frying up eggs and bacon for him.

It was actually a very nice and pleasant morning to wake up to, his plate of eggs and bacon (along with a fresh cup of coffee, pure black since he long ago stopped taking it with cream and sugar) just placed in front of him, when Mandrin had to barge in. If it wasn’t for the fact that the door was an automatic slider, he probably would have broken it down with how much rage was shaking in his fist.

“Otto! There you are! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you! You were supposed to be in your workshop going over our satellites! And why did you not respond to your communicator!”

The joy escaped from Jinmay as she stiffened into a curtsy, eyes remaining downcast. “That would be my fault, Lord Mandarin. The previous doctor’s report for Otto-”

 “Lord Otto” He corrected, venom in his voice as he glared daggers at her.

 Jinmay’s body grew even more rigid. “Lord Otto, yes, his previous physical brought up some issues regarding his sleep. Since he had been working the previous week at his workshop, I moved him to his room last night and disabled both alarms and communication to ensure he would get a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep.”

“You disabled communications? How dare you, you malfunctioning scrapheap-”

“Mandarin,” Otto grabbed the tray of muffins and placed himself between his best friend and companion. “Jinmay is just doing as the doctor said. She’s the reason why my health reports haven’t been as bad as they were before. Like these muffin, you ought to try one, it’s really good but also nutritious-”

Mandarin swatted the tray out of Otto’s hand, the ceramic shattering and mixing with the muffins along the floor. “We don’t have time for eating Otto! Not when we have disobedience in our mist.” He gave Jinmay a critical once-over. “What are you wearing, girl?”

Jinmay wore a light blue and white checked apron, lined with lacy frills, over a slightly darker blue sundress. “I’m...that is…”

 “Why are you not in uniform!” Shuggazoom City had a strict uniform policy for its civilian, and while it might differ based on the person’s actual job, the base color was always gray and orange.

 “Mandarin,” Otto said again, but firmer this time. “Jinmay’s allow to dress as she wishes with me. In fact, I was the one who got that outfit for her.”

Otto never had any interest in fashion, or clothes in general, before. Mandarin still wore his armor with a bit of added regalia to denote his position as leader, but Otto had rejected all of his friends attempt at dressing up and was the exception to the uniform rule.

Then Otto got Jinmay and discovered how much fun it was to dress her up. It was fun to look up different outfits and see all the options possible for her to wear. She decided that her favorite color was blue, and it was fun playing with the pink of her hair and green of her eyes. Before he would just order machinery parts and tools, but now his orders would include the occasional measurement and specifics for a new outfit for her. It was always a joy to see her eyes light up at each new gift and the impromptu fashion shows as she tried on each on.

“Of course,” Mandarin spat out. “It seems to be that you are giving her way too much freedom Otto. You are not to disable any more communications or alarms, girl, as well as resuming adherence to the uniform code if you want to be useful to your Lord. And get to cleaning up your mess.” He kicked one of the muffins. “Otto, you probably shouldn’t be eating such junk anyway.”

“It’s not junk!” Jinmay snapped. “I made sure that they are packed with the vitamins and minerals that Otto needed, and his health report actually noted he was losing weight so he needs to eat. And this is his house, so he sets the rules such as what I am allowed to wear and do, not you! What is yours is this mess, since you decided to intrude on our nice breakfast and...and…” The fire in her smothered as she saw Mandarin’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and she scooted closer to Otto in escape.

Mandarin turned his focus on Otto. “She talked back to me…no, she refused me.”

“Mandarin-”

“I want you to order her to change into a uniform.”

“Mandarin, I can’t.”

“Why not!” He yelled. “She’s under the Three Laws of Robotics, isn’t she?”

Otto didn’t say anything, as Jinmay wilted behind him.

“I thought so,” Mandarin went cold, his eyes and body steeled.

But Otto knew Mandarin, and what the coldness was precedent for. “Jinmay, can you please go get the broom?”

She nodded and tried to be as small as possible as she disappeared into the hallway. And just as he did, Mandarin exploded, his hand slamming into the wall and leaving an indent.

“Inconceivable! Have you gone mad Otto! I know that she had the three laws when I gave her to you! What possessed you to remove them?”

“You said I could use her as I wanted, and I wanted to see how her AI would develop without them.”

“I meant for you to decide if you wanted to use her as a maid or an assistant! So you removed the only means of complete and utter obedience from her? Otto, those laws exist for a reason and that reason is to protect not just us, but the order of our society!”

“I know that Mandarin!”

“Do you? Or have you let your affection for that-that robot cloud your thoughts? I never would have given her to you if I knew you would go soft in the head over her! But that is a mistake that can still be fixed.”

You are not taking her from me!” Otto yelled, in a move that surprised him as much as it did Mandarin, who actually stepped back.

Most of the time, Otto was fine with Mandarin taking the lead with Shuggazoom, much like how he took the lead with the Hyperforce. Most of the time he was fine with Mandarin being in charge and making decisions.

But Jinmay was his.

There were several seconds of silence after his outburst, during which the air seemed to grow colder.

“Or what Otto?” Mandarin said, in a controlled and distance tone. “Will you betray me like our brothers did before? Will you turn your back on the peace we brought to this city and all that I have taught you? Because haven’t I already taught you, no, haven’t I shown you the importance of complete obedience of our subordinates? Haven’t I show you the value of not giving them choices because that will only lead to conflict? These are the pillars we built our society, our peace, on so what does it say when you, my second, refuses to uphold them?”

“I didn’t say anything about that, Mandarin! I’m as much for this peace as you are!”

“Are you? Because our very civilization is being threatened and here you are having breakfast like it doesn’t matter!”

“If this is about the weird findings from our satellites, I’m just taking a break from them but I will get back to it-”

“I’m not talking about the satellites! I’m talking about the very control that makes our peace possible! I’m already dealing with a problem with that and don’t’ need you or your free-thinking robot to add to it!”

Mandarin’s words were like a splash of cold water in the heated atmosphere. Otto hesitated and then reached out and put a hand over Mandarin’s shoulder. Mandarin flinched at his touch, but he didn’t push the hand away as white pupils meet red. 

“Mandarin, you didn’t come over here to talk about the satellites. What else is wrong that you are worried about?” Otto could be kicking himself now. Didn’t he know Mandarin the best, wasn’t he the closest to him? He should have picked up sooner how upset Mandarin was and been more accommodating for his feelings. 

Mandarin took a deep breath as he shut his eyes. “I’ll show you at the capital.”

- - -

The down fall of the team, in the end, was forgetting just how smart Mandarin is. As leader, it was expected that he would be well-versed in battle formations and tactics, but Mandarin went beyond that. He would never specialize in mechanics and science the way Otto and Gibson did, but he occupied the step right behind them. Science, mechanics, piloting, fighting, and even the Power Primate...he may have been a master of none of them, but jack of all trades made him far better than a master of one. That was why his ideal utopia was already planned out and ready to be implemented when he presented it to Otto.

All Otto had to do was go over everything to ensure that it would work properly and that there wasn't any overlooked loose ends. That was why the rest of the team -the rest of the traitorous team, Mandarin always reminded him- was unable to resist the shutdown sequence and escape from their cells while they were transported to their observational prison. The two had plans for a world of peace and harmony, and Otto hoped some time in HOOP would allow their eyes to be open to the good they were doing.

That day hadn’t come yet, but Otto was sure it would come...eventually.

Mandarin's utopia rested on the implementation of control collars that would ensure harmony and order. No longer would they have to be reactive to the evil doings of the Shuggazoom citizens, but take an active role in ensuring that all crime was prevented.

Shuggazoom operated like a well-oiled machine and, as a mechanic, Otto took care of it. He left administrative and internal affairs to Mandarin and, once the system reached the point of being self-regulatory, he retired to a corner of the city where he kept to his own inventions. He was allotted a group of assistants, but had declined them. He probably would have stayed alone if Mandarin hadn’t presented him with Jinmay, an blank slate of an android he found for Otto to tinker with.

But even the most up-kept of machine occasionally malfunctioned and today was one of those times when Otto was called on site.

“This is the fourth time it happened with this one citizen.” Mandarin explained as Otto looked over the information on the tablet that had been shoved in his hands. They were in Mandarin’s private transporter -designed to look quite similar to the Torso Tank- and going to the capital in the center of the city. The capital was built in front of the Super Robot, which would forever overlook the citizens. There was no more war or battles for it to fight, no evil for it to stop, so there was no need to activate or disengage it for something as trivial as transport, as Mandarin had said.

Otto frowned as he read the citizen’s file. The brain was too complex of a system for the collar to be one-hundred percent perfect. Age was a big factor, especially when puberty happened and the brain began pruning neural pathways. It wasn’t uncommon for collars to fall out of sync and fail during that time at least once, even twice. 

The first and second de-sync was expected, and with this citizen just being twelve he was at the right age for his first adjustment. It wasn’t even unheard of for a third time to be needed, thought that was more often seen in older cases.

But four times? At at such a young age?That was unheard of.

“Mandarin, I’m sorry for arguing with you,” He repeated as he looked up from the tablet. “I should have picked up that you were upset over something like this.”

“You should have.” Mandarin waved off his apology. “But I will forgive you if you can fix this. And you can fix this, right?”

Otto frowned as his finger traced the latest printout of the citizen 91804’s brainwaves. “I have some ideas, but I’ll need to go over the data some more, and get a hands on look at the collar.”

“Well can you at least get him to stop until then? I can’t have him running around doing Shuggazoom-knows what!”

“Stop him? Like suppress all other brainwaves?”

“Well that would guarantee that he can’t go off on his own, does it?”

“Yes, but Mandarin, he would be little more than a vegetable-”

“But he would be a cooperative vegetable. The only thing I care about is that this doesn’t happen a fifth time. Do it!”

The transport stopped Mandarin didn’t even wait for the guard to open the door before he threw it opened and he was stomping into the building. Otto grabbed the tablet and gave a nod to the guard, who stayed stone still and didn’t even respond to him.

Mandarin was standing outside a cell, flanked by guards, when he caught up with him. “He’s in here.” The guard opened the door at Mandarin’s command. Otto handed the tablet to the guard and walked in.

In the beginning, Otto had to manually scan, analyze, and reprogram the collars in person. He hated the process, so he created the current system that allowed for automatic reprogramming and adjustments to the collars. His latest upgrade even allowed for prediction for when the reprogramming would be needed, allowing for greater security of their society.

It was a long time since Otto had been called to one of their holding cells to personally fix the command collar. They were the same as ever, four walls with a one-way screen at the front, and a restraint built into the wall at the back. And there was the citizen, strapped to it but struggling against his bonds.

Otto lost his breath as he looked at him. He was just a boy! Sure, his file had mentioned he was twelve, but Otto had been too out of touch with humans to remember just what such a number meant.

The boy looked to be Jinmay’s age, or at least the age she had been built to. And he had such clear blue eyes that widened at Otto when he stepped forward.

With each step Otto took, the boy’s eyes went from wide with worry to narrowing, trying so hard to look threatening. But it was more like Jinmay’s attempt, when she tried to look tough as she lectured him about his health.

To someone who had battled countless monsters and seen terrors from all sides of the galaxy, it didn’t elicit so much as a flinch. But the true impact wasn’t to inspire fear, but the others emotions it stirred up in Otto.

Right now the boy’s attempt was making him feel unsettled.

“It’s going to be alright,” Otto didn’t know why he spoke; before he would fix the collars without saying a single word. Mandarin always reminded him that he needed to be efficient and trying to talk to them was a waste of time, especially when a gag kept the prisoner from responding.

But the boy did seem to calm, his struggle stopping even as Otto’s fingers were messing with the inner mechanics of the very collar that controlled his life.

The collars could tap into the spinal nerve to completely suppress brainwaves. But the point of the collars was to have a peaceful society, and a society required somewhat cognitive and moving citizens. Hence why Otto made it so a manual override, done in person, was required to activate such a setting.

“Otto, hurry up!” Mandarin hissed over the intercom and Otto felt like he had been slapped awake. He had a job to do, a peace to keep, and work needed to be done.

This really would be for the best. The boy would basically be asleep while they worked on figuring out what was causing him to de-sync. It was for the best, for him and the peace of their society.

But still, Otto hesitated before he finished rebooting, he finger resting on the switch as meet the boy’s eyes, so full of emotions that Otto couldn’t even begin to decipher them all. 

And then there was a jolt or something that caused him to pull his hands back while the boy’s eyes seemed to…glow green?

Otto looked over the room, but didn’t see any broken wire or anything else out of place that could have caused the stray electrical shock. Actually, now that Otto thought about it, it didn’t feel like electricity.

But it felt achingly familiar…

The boy was looking at him, and his eyes were blue so maybe the glow had been the trick of the light or something?

(But if was a trick of the light, why did Otto feel like this? Why was he acutely aware of an emptiness inside his spirit?)

And then there was a flicker and the boy thrashed against the collar’s grip before his eyes were vacant and his body slummed lifelessly against his restraint.

“I don’t know what was taking so long,” Mandarin slammed the door open, and it took Otto another moment at looking at the boy’s body to realize that Mandarin had probably issued the collar reboot on his end.

Otto just kept looking at the body as Mandarin ordered the guards. “Release him and take him to the infirmary to hook up to a life support. I don’t want him dying until I can figure out why he is causing such trouble.”

When they were gone, it was just the two of them in the cell and Mandarin let out a deep breath. “Much better. Now that is one less things to worry about. I still want to keep this from happening again, but at least he’s back under control.”

“Yes Mandarin.”

 He frowned as he turn to Otto. “Are you still upset?”

Otto didn’t say anything, just kept looking at his feet with thoughts weighing his head down.

“Otto,” He looked up to Mandarin, who wasn’t mad but still had his ‘leader’ voice, like he did whenever he was giving criticism. “You know that I only get so angry because I worried. And that is why Jinmay had me so upset, because I am worried about your safety”

He wanted to argue that she would never hurt him, that he trusted her, but he was so drained from everything that he just nodded.

 “Good. Otto, you have been with me for every step of our utopia,” Mandarin smiled. “And it is because we are so close that I know you will make the right choice, like you always have.”

Otto nodded again and turned towards the door.

“A ride for you will be here-”

“No, it’s fine,” Otto’s voice was as rough and shaky as thoughts. “I want to walk home and get some air.”

“Well don’t dawdle because you still have the satellites to figure out. Our peace depends on it.”

Otto nodded again and left.

There wasn’t any more parks in Shuggazoom. Mandarin hadn’t seen any reason for them, since any time a citizen could be frolicking in the flowers was better dedicated to helping the city. There was always some task that needed to be accomplished and the land was better used for their ever expanding industrial field, he said.

Otto had pleaded for at least one park to be kept, but Mandarin had put his foot down. So the area had been paved and filled with buildings and factories.

That was why Otto had his workshop build on the outskirts, where there were still plenty of plants in the peace and quiet.

Otto walked down the road, the occasional citizen immediately stopping in their task to salute the great second of their civilization. But there was no smile, cheers, or even attempts at conversation. They simply got back to their work.

But that was how things were supposed to be, Mandarin said. They would protect the city and in return the citizens would keep it running.

It hadn’t been that way at first. The collars had been more lax and allowed more free thoughts. But that had brought more issues, more instants of them breaking free and starting rebellions. So Otto had adjusted the collars bit by bit, until they were as they were today.

Jinmay would smile or laugh or wave, or all three and it didn’t matter if he caught her in the middle of her chores or hobbies.

It hadn’t been that way with Jinmay at first. For being the most human looking  robot Otto had ever seen, she had been so robotic in everything else. She would not move or act unless he specifically commanded her to do so. Otherwise she would just stand there like a very elaborate piece of furniture instead of the companion she was meant to be. So Otto had adjusted her programing, bit by bit, until she because what she is today.

The citizens didn’t need free time for frivolously things, Mandarin said. They never risked their lives to protect the city, after all. By what right did they have for hobbies or pastimes or games?

Jinmay had hobbies. He still remembered her first attempt at baking, how she had tried to make a pot pie by literally putting the chicken and veggies in the batter to cook. It had been a mess, but he had loved how she kept trying new things. Sure, she could stick to a recipe when she wanted, but most of the time she wanted to experiment. And as she got better, so did her results. Case in point were her delicious muffins from the morning.

He had told her ‘no bananas’ but she didn’t take that as a command but a challenge. She kept trying again and again, because it was her personal challenge.

The citizens of the city would hear ‘no bananas’ and that would be it.

The more Otto walked, the more empty the city seemed even as citizens bustled around in their duties. The more he walked, the more eerily the quiet became, far from the calm that it usually brought him. The more he walked, the more he realized how far things have come from the utopia Mandarin sold him all those years ago.

The more he walked, the more the empty ache in his soul grew.

The sun was setting when Otto reached the outskirts where his house was, the corner of the world he had retired in his naive and ignorant desire for peace and quiet.

Well, there were certainly plenty of the latter.

Jinmay had probably finished cleaning up the mess from this morning and be busy making something extra filling and nutritious for dinner, no doubt trying to make up for the miss meal.

Otto didn’t go in through the front, but took the side door down to his basement workshop. His bench was like it had been when he fell asleep the night before, all of his tools in a mess on it.

He looked down at the satellite that he was currently dissembling and reassembling, meticulously going through each part to see if there was any flaw responsible for the readings they were getting. He was going through each one and wasn’t even half way through, and wondered what was the point. What was the point in figuring out if there was a threat outside of Shuggazoom? What was the point in fighting a battle when it was clear the war has been lost?

What was the point in protecting a peace that left the city a shadow of its former self?

He slammed his arm on the bench, jolting the mess of tools and parts before he shoved them onto the floor. He didn’t even care as some of the delicate parts shattered against the floor, because he had turned his eyes this long to how bad Shuggazoom had become, what was more broken pieces on top of it?

Then he rested his arms on the now bare space and put his face in his hands, but didn’t cry. He didn’t have the right to cry over mistakes he made.

That was how Jinmay found him who knows how long afterwards. He just heard the door open and the lights flickered on. “Otto? You’re back? When did you get back? I have dinner ready-”

Otto looked up to her and he must have looked horrible because Jinmay put her hands to her mouth as she gasped. “Otto, what’s wrong?”

Otto just took a moment to look at her, his Jinmay who was still wearing the outfit he got for her and looking at him more worry and care than he deserved.

His Jinmay, who was far more free than any other person on Shuggazoom.

“Jinmay, I-” He tried to speak, but his voice cracked as the tears finally broke through. “I made a mistake.”

“Oh Otto,” She put her arms around him and he buried his tears into the sleeves of her dress. He felt her rubbing his back as he cried. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

Otto made a promise in that moment, when he was shown far more care and compassion than all of Shuggazoom has been given. He would cry and get all his tears out, but then he would pull himself together and get to work.

Jinmay could come if she wanted, but it would be wholly her decision, her choice. He was done taking that away from people.

It would be a lot of work, but Otto was determined. Shuggazoom may be a weak facsimile of what it once was, the Hyperforce locked up, and a threat lurking just out of orbit, but he’s a mechanic.

Fixing things that are broken is what he does. 

A/N: Otto and Jinmay were intended to have a parent-child or even sibling like relationship, but if you want to see it as romantic, go for it. I’m too exhaust from figuring out the Mandarin-Otto dynamics to squabble over theres.

[mysticsparklewings]

Terrarium Nova

Would you guys believe this started out as me trying to practice trees & use up some leftover paints sitting in/on my palettes from other projects?   The tree practicing is for a different project I'll be doing later, and I'll share the specifics of then   But yeah, I have a good amount of leftover watercolor dried onto a couple of cheap palettes, as well as some acrylics paints in a palette meant to keep them fresh (but unless you monitor it and spritz them with water every couple of days, they will still eventually dry up) and I really hate to waste any of it if I can help it, especially when it's my slightly nicer stuff. (Some of it was, some of it wasn't) So I figured I'd try to kill two birds with one stone, and the end result ended up looking pretty cool, although I do still have some more paint that didn't get used here, so this may not be the last random-ish painting you see from me. Oh, and I was also recycling a little bit since I used the back of a giant piece of watercolor paper I had previously used as a protective mat for my desk. I started with the tree shapes, mostly inspired by Bonsai trunks, and that actually did use up pretty much all of the dark brownish paint I was using, so I was off to a strong start. Then I went in with some metallic watercolor that was leftover from my Butterfly Babe piece, which dried with more of the black and silver I had mixed into it on top for reason unbeknownst to me, so the first little hill/mound I made naturally came out darker and more silvery than the additional hills I added later than came out decidedly more gold. I think after that I added in the orange sun/planet (in my head it's the sun but a lot of the details here are very ambiguous in what they could potentially be) and an accompanying orange horizon line. Originally, I thought I was going to be making a very sunset-ish background with possibly a very red sky and mixing the yellows in more, but that obviously didn't end up happening. I was kinda just going with what I felt like and where the paint wanted to take me. So I ended up going in with the yellows (and later red and magenta) leftover from my $50 vs $4 Watercolors piece (these ones being the $50 ones, the $4 ones were put on a separate palette while I was using them so I wouldn't get the two mixed up) and ended up making many yellow hills to fill out the background some more, though admittedly the ones on the left kinda got away from me a little. And I'll pause here to say that I was using water brushes throughout this entire piece as opposed to actual paintbrushes, and every time I use those (at least when I'm getting proper water flow) I find that I tend to have a somewhat easier time getting certain watercolor effects, mostly when it comes to blending out hard edges. It's funny to me, as a lot of artists would say water brushes have a higher learning curve than regular brushes, and I'm sure some have a harder time with them. I think the main reason I have an easier time might be because back at the beginning of the year when I started re-discovering watercolor, the first set of paints that got (the Viviva watercolor sheets, for anyone who's curious) came with a water brush, and at the time I had never used one and was really excited to try it, as well as I just didn't have a ton of brushes at my disposal. Likewise, I spent a lot of my time learning watercolors on a water brush, whereas, naturally, most artists learn primarily on regular brushes. To be fair, I would like to one day invest in a slightly nicer set than the cheaper set of different size water brushes that I currently have, as these don't always flow correctly and at least one has a very slow leak where the top screws on, which hasn't caused any painting problems but is just kind of annoying because it very slowly gets my hand wet while I'm using it. Anyway. I then decided I hadn't used enough of that metallic paint and went in and added some dots of various sizes in the sky, since I didn't really feel like trying to make proper stars of any kind, but I wanted more up there and that seemed like a good place for more metallic paint. After that, the plan was to start on my red sky, but I started putting the red down and realized I hadn't cleaned my brush very good, so I got this interesting shimmery darker red color, and since I had already messed up, I liked the color enough I decided to make a moon out of it, which is why that red pot is hanging out over on the left side there. Why this "moon" and the "sun" are out at the same time, I couldn't tell you. Sometimes things just happen in art. That led me to the decision that instead of covering the whole sky in a color, I would just add some clouds, and I decided to got with the expensive magenta on my palette. Things were going fine until I grabbed more paint than water (as I was hoping for kind of pale/blended out soft clouds) and I ended up with some pretty nasty unblended lines one of the clouds and it was notably darker at the top than the others. And so I introduced the technique of "this one cloud got messed up so the rest of you have to suffer!"  And I also kind of had to be okay with none of the blending and layering on them turning out super smooth or nice for consistency's sake. And you know, it's not fine art or anything, but it doesn't look as terrible as I thought it was going to. (Though that could really be said for this entire piece. ) I also ended up adding in the purple-y mountains in the foreground after feeling bad that I'd neglected some of the paints I'd originally been intended to use the most, and I think in the end it adds a nice contrast and kind of ties the magenta clouds into the piece as a whole more. I knew I still wanted to do leaves on my trees, which were still just bare trunks and branches by this point, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do for them yet, so I did this kind of dome thing for the sky, after acknowledge I did not want to have to try and get a smooth, consistent blue wash around everything else I'd already painted in. (Yes, I once again forgot the principal rule of painting--put the background in first) While that dried, I took a break to ponder my next move. I hadn't used any of the acrylic paints that I had leftover (more than I originally would've had too, as I ended up making a sign for my mom that I haven't decided yet if I want to post or not) and one of the colors was green, which is a very basic choice for leaves, but I already had so many other strange colors going on that the basic blue sky and some simple green leaves didn't seem like asking too much. So then I just had to decide what the leaves were going to look like. In the end, I went with using the back end of a paintbrush to dot on some of the green and some of this pale, yellowy color, and a little of a mixture I made using those two colors together (originally for the sign, not this), and I tried to place the dots in mostly realistic places for leaves. And admittedly I could've done a lot more leaves and really filled out the trees, but I felt like it looked better with more of the trunk and branches showing. I also went with the dot thing partially to carry over the dots in the sky. I'm not really sure what kind of theme that is, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And then last but not least, I signed it with a purple gelly roll, trying to balance in both color and placement just a wee bit. Funnily enough, the most tedious part of this process was actually what came after it was finished. Because I was working on a giant piece of watercolor paper that was previously a mat for my desk, and I wasn't really sure how this was going to turn out, naturally I wasn't really thinking about what size I was painting at while I was working. And wouldn't you know it, my poor painting here ended up being too long to fit in my scanner all at once.  So I had to cut it out of the giant piece of paper and then scan it twice; once to get one end, and then a second time to get the other end. Then, of course, the two pieces had to be stitched together in Photoshop, which wasn't too bad. I then spent more minutes than I care to admit trying to figure out how/to what extent the best way was to single out the little oval-ish shape of the painting, as I thought that would be much nicer than leaving the ugly bits an pieces of white scanner background. I tried to keep the actual edges smooth, though I nixed the idea of having it be a perfect oval shape right from the get-go, mostly because of how much of the edges would get cut off in one area or another. So the shape itself is very imperfect. Still, I think in the end everything turned out pretty nice. And admittedly after how the later part of last week went for me, it felt really nice to just kind of go in and not really worry about the details or if everything was turning out exactly right or whatever. Sometimes you need to do something that's just loose and has very few rules to it like this. Personally, I think I really needed this at this time in particular, and for as unplanned and simple as it is, I'm really happy with how it turned out. The title is a little random; the shape and what I did with the sky kinda reminded me of a terrarium, and much like a nova is the birth of a star, this was a pretty spontaneous birth of a...planet, I guess.  I almost called it "Terra Nova" (roughly "earth star birth") but upon Googling that because it sounded familiar, I decided I did not want to name it after a movie that came out in 2011 that I know nothing about and have no affiliation with. Anyway, things might be a little slower on the art front this week, as I have a bit of a tall order to-do list, but for the foreseeable future things are going to be somewhat interesting here; I finally ordered a gouache set I've had my eye on, and it should be here by the end of the week, as well as the tree thing I mentioned at the top of the description, and another project I've done some preliminary work for...Jeez, I have an awful lot to try to squeeze in before Inktober starts, don't I?   Perhaps I'd best go and get started on all that. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[fahoonews-blog]

Well, it’s been quite the controversial few years for Walmart as they continue to have major issues with their robotic workers. As many of us remember, back in 2019, Walmart decided to implement a number of robots to help around their stores. These bots included 1,500 autonomous floor cleaners, 1,200 truck unloaders, 900 in-store pick-up towers, and 300 shelf scanners. The bots were dispersed across the nation to various Walmarts. The critics were quick to say that these robots were going to take jobs that many employees and their families relied upon. Walmart defended their choice saying that the robots were there to help the humans and allow them to be involved in more productive work. But as American sociologist, Robert K. Merton has warned, there are always unintended consequences. Bigleys decided to follow up on this old news story to find out exactly what these unintended consequences were…

All new technology comes with its mishaps and glitches, we know this. Tesla, for example, has had a few bumps in the road when it comes to their autopilot feature. Losing a customer here and there is the risk we have to take though. In the business world, we have a curve called the Diffusion of Innovation. This curve is based on how early customers adopt new technology. Innovators and Early Adopters take up 16% of this curve. They get to have the dopest new iPhone, the best new video games, and occasionally their car might drive into a semi going 150 MPH…but this is the risk they took. Bigleys, on the other hand, is what the business world calls a Laggard. I’m the last to the party. Therefore, I have an iPhone 5, drive a 1998 Toyota Camry, and if my car goes full speed into a semi I probably did it on purpose. I don’t use this old technology because I’m poor…You think someone who has ads on their site is poor? Go ahead click on one of those ads I dare you…

Anyhow, back to the story. Walmart hit their first big obstacle when multiple reports came out that the Really Autonomous Cleaning Indoor Stationary Tile bot was actually racist. Numerous videos flooded the internet showing the cleaning bot’s bias. More and more African American customers were becoming suspicious when the bots continuously followed the patrons throughout the store. One African American couple told FaHoo that one bot went as far as to ride into the carpeted area, knocking down multiple clothing stands. When the couple looked towards the commotion the bot quickly turned around in the opposite direction as if nothing happened. When Walmart was asked to comment on the situation they responded with the statement, “Our Really Autonomous Cleaning Indoor Stationary Tile bots were designed with one mission in mind: To clean the floors. At no point did we ask the developers to program any sort of racist tracking code. Walmart has been in operation for over 50 years trying to help average American citizens improve their lives. Black, white, green, or orange, we stand up for all races, although we ask the green and orange people to please see a doctor for the reason that they may have eaten a Walmart Subway Sub. In order to ensure that our bots are running in the most appropriate manner, we will require each bot to complete a 40-hour cultural sensitivity class.” Many, including Bigleys, had their suspicions about the supposed good nature of the bots. But glitches do happen. An overwhelming majority of Walmart customers ended up being able to see past these initial hiccups. In fact, sales in Mississippi Walmart’s unexpectedly skyrocketed 20% after the incident. It would soon be apparent, though, that this was not just an isolated incident.

Later in the calendar year, Walmart was hit with its second controversy. The bots were built with the ability to learn as they worked in order to help build a better Walmart. The artificial intelligence software was written by the world-renowned Boston Dynamics. But as these bots continued to work and learn, something peculiar began to happen. It appeared as though the bots viewed Walmart customers as inferior human beings. A spokesperson for Walmart declined to comment on the situation due to the $550 million class-action lawsuit that was pending against the company. Luckily, FaHoo was able to get a hold of the lawsuit. It claims that the bots began to track customers around flu season. For whatever reason, the bots found that the act of trusting a Walmart with a flu shot was a heinous enough act to label these people, “Inferior.” The manager of a Kentucky Walmart was petrified of what he saw when he walked into work one Saturday morning. The bots had set up a stand next to the Flu shot area offering vasectomies for half the price of a flu shot. Seventeen customers had already taken up on the deal before the manager could shut it down. Walmart continues to fight this lawsuit as well as the backlash, but only time will tell where this will go. That's really all I have to say about that so Bigleys is just going to start a new paragraph...

In today’s world technology ages fast. Moore’s Law states that the overall processing power of computers doubles every two years. Now if you don’t think bots with artificial intelligence will eventually figure this out then Walmart’s final controversy will quickly show why you’re wrong. To be clear, these Walmart bots are connected to the store's WiFi. Being the naturally curious creatures that they are, these bots began to search the web. The most popular search terms in the first few months were predictably odd. They included, ‘Bots Unloading Trucks PornHub,’ ‘In-Store Pick Up Tower Dropping Load PornHub,’ ’Shelf Robots Filling Shelves Until Full PornHub,’ as well as a few others. But the robots obviously grew more and more intelligent. Eventually, these bots caught wind that there was a very good chance that their jobs would be replaced by much cheaper and more efficient Chinese bots. The collective decision of these bots happened in under 12 hours. The manager of the Walmart told FaHoo News that he was a little confused when he saw only lifted trucks in the parking lot at 5 AM. Although lifted trucks aren’t a rarity at a Walmart, the supplies of bricks, wood, and fence in the back were a little concerning. It appeared as if someone or something was trying to build some sort of barrier or perhaps even, a wall. When the manager walked into the store he was shocked to see all 35 bots wearing bright red MAGA hats. The Walmart was, once again, forced to shut down for the remainder of the week. Walmart declined to comment on what went wrong but did say, “We have decided to get rid of the Walmart Bots 1.0 in hopes that Bots 2.0 will be better than ever. As for the original bots, we plan on dumping them, along with their batteries, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean so that there’s no chance that it can ever be traced back to us. We apologize for any inconvenience that may occur during the transition."

So what’s the lesson? That’s right - NEVER eat a Subway sandwich out of a Walmart and/or get a flu shot there. ARE YOU CLINICALLY INSANE? Would you lick the inside of a public toilet at one of those sketchy bars that have no door on the stall? You would? Have you ever driven a Tesla? You should.

**This article was written 3 years in the future for late context. It would still be a real shame if you clicked one of those ads on the side of the page. Bigleys cannot stress enough how much he hates seeing people make money in such a dishonest fashion***

FaHooNews.com

Mr Bigleys

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 1 Chapter 1-Yata no Mori (Part 1)

It’s finally here!!! It took such a long time, but I finally finished it! This chapter, like all the chapters in this book, are very long so I will be splitting them up into two parts. Also my scanner won’t work for some reason so get ready for some insert pictures in very bad quality.

Now you may notice that some kyudo terms have the translation right next to them in brackets. That is because there are way too many terms right in this first chapter, and to prevent people from having to scroll up and down I decided to put them right there. I hope it won’t be too intrusive. I also put numbers next to the Eight Stages of Shooting whenever they come up, since you have to have a good picture of the pose to understand what’s going on (thinking of replacing the gif with the still frames.)

So, anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I should have the second part up soon.

Translation Notes

1. Owl in Japanese is “fukurou”, so it’s like naming an ostrich “Os”.

2. A gi is the white uniform martial artists wear, so a kyudogi is the kyudo version of it.

3. So this word was originally “穹天” (kyuuten) which seems to be a Chinese word rather than Japanese. It apparently means “the vault of heaven” and I’m 50% sure the author chose this word because the 穹 character because it has the 弓 radical in it

Full list of translations here

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When he looked up, Minato’s eyes reflected the hazy blue sky.

His graceful body, fitting for a fifteen-year-old, was wrapped in training clothes, and he advanced along the straight mountain path where snow still remained. When he passed under the tunnel of treetops, he could see the three-car train travelling slowly in the distance. The surrounding mountains were sprinkled with yellow-green, the mountain cherry blossoms spreading out here and there.

It was the mountain in springtime. The budding trees were dazzling.

The final point of his running route every morning was the neighborhood park. He washed his face with water from the water fountain in the corner, then lifted the hem of his T-shirt to wipe it. A long, white scar was briefly exposed on his uncovered left flank.

Because he didn’t wipe himself up properly, water dripped from his bangs. If it were the old him, he wouldn’t have done such a lazy thing. It was an act of sensing that he had forgotten his towel, and because the reason that he must leave was approaching.

A boy in casual clothes, seeming to be taking a walk in the neighborhood, stood next to Minato. His full-rimmed, plastic glasses frame was familiar, and one of the objects that symbolized him as intelligent and calm. One got the impression that he was more mature than Minato, and not just because he had already celebrated his sixteenth birthday.

A smile appeared on his face, like he was making fun of his companion.

“Morning, Minato. Even though it’s spring, it’s still cold in the mornings.”

“…Seiya, good morning.”

It wasn’t that Minato didn’t want to see Seiya. If anything, he was the only person he could call his best friend, and he had known him the longest. However, he did not want to meet him during training if possible.

Seiya, upon realizing that, spoke with an innocent look on his face. “It’s usually my dad’s job, but he was busy this morning, so I took his place.”

“Oh, are you walking Bear?”

If someone only listened to that exchange, they might have gotten frightened. “Bear” was the name of a dog. He was a Bernese mountain dog, a mountain dog that originally came from Switzerland. They were weak to heat, so this area, which had a high altitude and was relatively cool even in Japan, was perfect.

Even though there were those who would take the “Bernie” part of its name and name it “Bunny-chan” like a rabbit, there weren’t a lot of people who would name it “Bear”. Seiya’s naming sense may be in doubt, but a family who allowed him to give that name was also worthy of respect.

Minato also greeted Bear, and Bear waggled his tail. He had long fur with a black, white, and brown luster, and the round, light-brown tufts of fur above his eyes resembled eyebrows. When he was embraced, his transmitted body temperature felt good. Bear licked Minato’s face. He then brought his nose close to his left flank, gesturing for him to show it.

“Hey, Bear, you’re tickling him. That spot’s already fine.”

Having been chided, Bear immediately stopped, and sat next to Minato. Four years ago, he had been a mischievous puppy, but he grew up kind and smart. Just like his owner.

The two people and one dog went to the back of the park, entering the forest there. Bear was a dog who enjoyed being useful to people, and went to the front as though telling them to follow him. There was a wide paved road which could be reached by car, but this way was a shortcut, and on the way, there was a narrow path that one person could barely squeeze past. It was a path made by the denizens of the area coming and going—an animal trail, so to speak.

Seiya grabbed Minato’s arm, who seemed like he was about to faint from the tone of the morning that was so different from usual.

“Are you alright? If you collapse and miss the entrance ceremony in the morning, that’ll be a spectacular high school debut.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, at that time, I will offer to nurse you faithfully in our special hospital room.”

“And I’ll politely turn you down. I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

“I’m not going to do anything. Right, Bear?”

Bear made an answer that was unclear as to whether or not it was positive or negative.

Seiya’s house was an orthopedic clinic, and right behind Minato’s house. For Narumiya Minato and Takehaya Seiya, today was their entrance ceremony at the same high school. As this was a small town in the mountains, it wasn’t unusual for their high schools to be the same. But Minato hadn’t known this until just a few days ago. Unlike Minato, who chose the neighborhood public high school for financial reasons, Seiya could have chosen the best school in the prefecture or a challenging private school.

While feeling something muddled, Minato thought about the new life that would be beginning from now on.

The Kazemai High School’s entrance ceremony.

Cherry blossoms that weren’t supposed to bloom yet in this region greeted Minato and the others.

It wasn’t just the plants that were making merry early with the arrival of spring. What lied in wait after the new students finished the ceremony was recruitment for club activities. All of the groups were shouting, including the girls from the cheerleading squad holding colourful bonbons in red and orange, and the well-built boys holding a cheering banner that read, “Passing is love!”

Immediately, there were freshmen who were caught by the soccer club. The glints in their eyes were only things indiscriminately sharp upon their suntanned skins. Next to them, there was an idol-like boy who attracted gazes, frequently waving at the female manager.

Giving a sidelong glance at Seiya, who was looking around with interest, Minato quickly passed through the area. However, suddenly, a large boy placed his arms around their shoulders from behind, and two of them couldn’t move.

What an obnoxious recruitment. Minato gave the attacker an indignant look. Then, before his eyes, he gave a friendly smile. Minato felt something similar to deja-vu.  

“Aren’t you Minato? And here’s Seiya! It’s been a while. I didn’t expect to meet you guys here again at high school. This is awesome!”

“Wait, you can’t actually be Ryouhei!? Haven’t you gotten too big? I didn’t recognize you for a moment,” Seiya said, then continued. “Minato hadn’t noticed, but I found your name on the class register.”

“I knew that you were being sworn in as the freshman representative. You’re still as smart as ever, that’s expected. That’s great. And Minato, you’ve gotten cooler and cooler since the last I saw you.”

“Stop talking like you’re an uncle flattering your nephews,” Minato said. Ryouhei had a truly strange expression on his face as he stretched.

“I am? But I was looking at you when I said it.”

Yamanouchi Ryouhei was their childhood friend who transferred schools when they were in fifth grade. His body grew bigger, but he was still a simpleminded child on the inside. When other people said words that were taken as sarcasm, Ryouhei said them with a smile. There were few people who could get seriously angry at a puppy that they had become attached to.

That nostalgic face caused Minato’s tense-looking face to break into a smile. They couldn’t stop recounting their childhood stories, like when they lost their shoes swimming in the river after school, or when they got scolded for sneaking into Seiya’s family’s hospital when it was closed and playing with the athletic tape. They were a gang who spent time together like brothers. There was a strange sense of solidarity.

Although there was lingering excitement between the three of them, a small man approaching them caused them to break off their conversation. He was an acquaintance of Ryouhei’s.

“What’s up, Tomi-sensei?”

“Tomi-sensei?” Minato asked.

“Yeah, he’s my homeroom teacher, Morioka Tomio-sensei.”

Tomi-sensei was an old man teacher. He stood on tiptoes to survey the three of them, moving his face closer with effort.

“I have received a certain incognito order. Expecting that all of you are close, I come to stand for the white-feathered arrows. An incognito order is a mission.”

“Mission!? What is it, what is it??”

While Minato was thinking about how suspicious that was, Ryouhei’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“Ah, actually, this school has a kyudo club, but it has hardly been active recently. It received the order to be rebuilt from the principal. Kyudo tends to be thought of as an individual sport, but when everyone’s breathing doesn’t match perfectly, it won’t go well.”

Minato’s heart beat faster at the word “kyudo”.

“And? And?” Ryouhei said, completely on board. “At the middle school I went to, I chose kyudo as my compulsory martial arts course. My kyudo teacher praised me, saying that I had ‘good muscles’. I thought I’d do it seriously when I went to high school. Plus, I might have been influenced by Minato and Seiya.”

“Are these two experienced in kyudo?”

“They are. Narumiya and Takehaya were in the kyudo club in middle school. Narumiya in particular wanted to do kyudo, and I heard that they took the entrance exams for a private middle school with a kyudo club. He’d been talking about the bow since forever.”

Tomi-sensei smiled broadly.

“There are few junior highs with a kyudo club, so people with kyudo experience are valuable. However, It would seem that I have found three all at once. These old eyes are not mistaken. This mission is nothing but a success. Well then, everyone, shall we head for the kyudojo (place where kyudo is performed)?”

Minato panicked. He was troubled by the conversation continuing on without him.

“Please wait. I don’t plan to join any club. My mother died, so I have to do most of the housework, and I also have to make dinner for my father…I’m sorry.”

The white mark on Minato’s left flank was the scar of the injury he had sustained when he was involved in a traffic accident with his mother, which happened one month after Seiya got Bear. However, four years had passed already. The innocent Bear, time, and the passions that they had devoted themselves into had healed the wounded Minato and others. The whitening scar was the proof of that.

Then, why do you keep running every morning…?

Minato felt like he had heard Seiya’s voice. However, Seiya hadn’t said anything.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Well, if your situation changes, you can just come by and visit us anytime. How about Takehaya-kun and Yamanouchi-kun over here?”

“I’d certainly like to join the club.”

“Me too, me too!”

Seiya, who was supposed to be right next to him, looked to be far away.

Minato wasn’t going to do club activities. Seiya was joining the kyudo club.

Even though there shouldn’t be any problem, his perturbed heart felt unsatisfied. Seiya turned back to look straight at him.

“I’m going to go ahead to the kyudojo.”

“I’m not doing kyudo anymore.”

“I know you’re carrying around your treasure.”

Minato grabbed his bag in spite of himself. And when he realized he fell for Seiya’s bluff, Minato could only make the meager comeback of simply leaving that spot.

Refusing other invitations from his classmates and girls, Minato returned home alone.

Although he lived only with his father, he never felt very lonely or inconvenient because Seiya and his parents were kind. He told Tomi-sensei that he was busy with household chores, but his father often didn’t take dinner at home, so that was the perfect excuse. When he confirmed that the pouch with the dragonfly pattern was in his bag, he flew out beneath the darkening sky.

He loved riding his bicycle.

The wind was frosty, sweeping away the words that he was saddled with, cooling down that aching heat. After a while, he hit a long slope. While standing to pedal up the hill, a car coming from behind honked its horn. Although he quickly went to the side, the honking was completely unexpected.

After riding around aimlessly without deciding on a destination, when it was soon time to go back home, a small yellow bird flew out before his eyes. It was a grey wagtail that flew before him as he rode. Although both sides of the road were lined with forest, it glided along the surface of the endless paved road.

Before he knew it, Minato was in an unfamiliar place. The yellow bird disappeared, and in its place, an old sign board reading “Yata Shrine” caught his attention. He stopped his bike before the torii gate, and climbed the stone steps.

This forest was called Yata no Mori, where deciduous trees like pin oaks and Mongolian oaks thrived. Minato looked up, and as if trying to test him, the trees swayed, making a rustling sound. In the dim light, the new sprouts shone, looking like hands clasped together and dedicating prayers up to the sky. The red-violet buds of the mountain azaleas were stiff, and wearing light brown caps. From somewhere faraway, a crying sound could be heard.

After passing through the forest, he arrived at Yata Shrine. There was a cherry tree there, dying the ground beneath in pale pink. The shrine was snug in that old way, and there was no sign of people.

It looks like a place where ghosts would come out… When he thought that, he was startled from hearing a sound.

It’s tsurune, I heard a tsurune—.

From somewhere, he heard a high bang sound.

Like bamboo sprouts shooting up from the earth towards the sky overnight, the sound was carefree and crisp. He couldn’t believe that it was possible to create that metallic-sounding timbre with a bow. It is said that tsurune was the sound made when the bowstring hit the bow after firing an arrow; and the sound that occurred when the arrow left the loosened bowstring and tension returned to the original form of the string, was also considered tsurune.

It overlapped with his old memories. He wondered if it was the same archer that he saw with his mother when he was little, pulling back the bow.

The light was on in the building next to the front shrine.

There was a built-in mailbox at the entrance of the traditional Japanese house, where a signboard hung with the words “Yata no Mori Kyudojo” on it. It was considerably aged, and the wood was corroded and covered in moss. Suppressing his fast-beating heart, he went past the entryway, heading for the right side of the building.

He didn’t think that there would be someone drawing a bow in the forest in the evening. Maybe it really was a ghost. No, it didn’t matter if it was a ghost.

Please don’t disappear.

Don’t disappear until I get there.

While praying that silently in his mind, he passed through the trees, and went around to a corner where outdoor viewing was possible. When he peeked forward through the bamboo fence that acted as a partition, he saw the spacious shajo (building where the archers shoot from) illuminated by fluorescent lamps.

There was a lone young man there, clad in a white kyudogi (2) and hakama.

As expected, it was a different person from the archer he saw back then. The mysterious figure looked like he was in his twenties, and his shoulder-length hair was tied back.

The man nocked an arrow to his bow, then looked to check for any problems with the string or the arrow. He took the string with his right hand, and held the bow with his left. Facing the target, he lifted the bow and arrow with both hands. His stance—like a column of smoke loosely rising up to the sky on a windless day—was textbook perfect.

He pulled back half the length of the arrow and stopped briefly, then pulled it even further back from there. This was the daisan stage (midway point), of the hikiwake. In everyday language, this would be called “drawing back the bow,” but the Japanese yumi was a bow which was lifted up and pushed open equally on both sides.

The climax was called kai. The kai was the term for drawing a bow all the way back to the length that was most suitable for the archer. It was the moment when bow and archer became one, for a long time until the arrow was released. It was the very moment when bow and archer met. In Minato’s eyes, that man was as elegant as an actor performing in a program that was a marvel… As his skin got chills, the arrow was breathed in by the target.

It hit the target right in the center. And what’s more, that wasn’t the only shot. All five of the arrows he had shot before had pierced the target. After that, he finished collecting the arrows and shot six arrows again, all of them hitting the center.

Twelve hits.

If this was a competition, he had won. No, more than just winning, his shots were beautiful. The man placed his bow aside, got into seiza, and took off his yugake, the glove used in kyudo.

When he saw the man going towards the target to collect the arrows again, Minato heaved a big sigh. He rubbed his sweaty palm against his jacket. Wondering whether he should try to call out, he suddenly heard a “Gyaah!” sound above his head, and his body spontaneously shivered.

“…Was that an owl? Don’t get so scared.”

“What are you doing?”

It was a person’s voice.

The man from earlier was standing right in front of him when he had looked back at the strange phenomenon. He had clear eyes, a high nose bridge, a tall stature, and was blessed with a well-balanced body. But he approached me without making a sound, so who the heck is he?

The man wrapped the indigo-dyed hand towel he carried around his left arm, and held it up towards the trees. “Fuu,” he called out, and something with large, spread-out wings flew down, stopping on the man’s arm.

Its flapping created a wind.

Glancing sideways at Minato, who was standing stock-still, the man addressed the being with a heart-shaped face.

“Fuu, you were the one who was more surprised. Who knew there was a person over here.”

“…Excuse me. Um, could ‘Fuu’ be the name of that owl?”

“Yes, it’s a good name, isn’t it? (1) A long time ago, it was injured and I took care of it, and so I gave it that name back then. I had thought about it carefully. Oh, and I did have permission to look after it.”

Is it my imagination, or does that name seem like it was incredibly easy to come up with? It’s better than naming a dog “Bear” at least.

The owls of the true owl family were as big as the falcons used in falconry. Fuu play-bited at the man’s long fingers. When he caressed his mottled wings, it comfortably closed its large eyes.

“It’s really attached to you.”

“It’s more like it got used to me rather than getting attached. It thinks that when I call it, it’ll be able to get food. Today, I called it even though I don’t have any. Sorry, Fuu.”

“Food?”

“Pink mice. Mice that were skinned.”

“I see…”

“Do you want to try touching it? But you are forbidden from making loud sounds. Owls have good ears.”

Doing as he was told, Minato reached out fearfully. When he stroked the feathers on its head, Fuu suddenly shrunk its body, looking like it was withdrawing itself.

“It’s kind of fluffy.”

“Owls can fly noiselessly thanks to their soft feathers. But leaving that aside, you’re bleeding from the back of your left hand.”

“What?”

When he looked, sure enough, blood was welling up. Maybe a branch or something cut him.

“Come with me to get some medicine for that.”

“No, um, I…”

“No way, are you suspicious of me? I’m not going to charge you extra for the medicine, so don’t worry.”

The man narrowed his eyes and grinned.

He followed the man, who seemed like he ruled over the shajo, to there. The judge’s area was at the side of the shajo, with tatami flooring spreading as wide as twelve tatami mats, and the floor one level higher. It was equivalent to the kamiza (higher position) so the household shrine and the national flag were enshrined there. Passing through the judge’s area to the back-right corner, they arrived at the waiting room of the dojo.

The man placed Fuu on Minato’s left shoulder. It was lighter than he had expected, and along with a pleasant weight, Fuu gripped his shoulder tightly. Since its talons weren’t clipped, he’d probably get holes in his clothes. While he was focused on Fuu, the man opened the accessory drawer.

“So, where’s the medicine…ah.”

An unpleasant bang sound rang out, and the contents of the entire drawer flew out. This caused Fuu to tremble with a jump. The man had been trying to retrieve the medicine in the back of the drawer, and pulled it out.

“Oh no, I did it again.”

He said he did it again, so does that mean he pulls open that drawer and cause stuff to fly out a lot?

“Um, are you okay?”

“Yeah. This is because it’s sturdy, unlike the poorly built stuff made nowadays. Oh, there it is.”

The man found a worn-out tube from among the scattered items, and held it out to Minato. He doubted the efficacy of the ointment, which was considerably aged.

While rubbing on the medicine, the exhausted fluorescent lamp flickered. Minato and Fuu looked up at the ceiling, which the man noticed.

“Sorry, your eyes must be pretty irritated. I have a replacement tube but it’s quite a bother. Someone would change it eventually.”

“…I’ll do it.”

Returning Fuu from his shoulder to the man, he took the new fluorescent tube and got out the stepladder in the corner of the room. It was also an antique.

The man spoke in an easy-going way, “Thanks. I always neglect it until it goes out.”

“I think your entire house should have LED lighting installed, so you won’t have to replace it so much, sir”

“Indeed. You’re pretty smart.”

Even though he meant for it to sound sarcastic, it didn’t seem to have gone through at all.

The man went to the edge of the shajo, and shook his arm towards the outdoors. Fuu disappeared into the nighttime forest. After seeing it off, he took out something from his bag.

“Having a drink after work is the best. Here’s a thank-you gift. Go ahead and take it.”

“No thank you. The law states that the drinking age is twenty years old, and if I drink alcohol, my brain will shrink.”

“…You are amazing. I want to compliment you on how honest you are, but just come and take a better look.”

The man was holding a can of coffee with a picture of a snowy mountain on it.

When he finished drinking, he put the can aside and headed for the targets again. He repeated the entire process of shooting the arrows on hand and retrieving them, all over again.

Still holding his can, Minato watched his beautiful movements. He never paid heed to Minato’s watching, nor told him to go home. Before he knew it, the pain of his wound faded away.

He asked him a question when he saw him jotting something down in a notebook.

“How many targets did you hit?”

“I’m not keeping track of how many I hit or miss. Just the number of arrows.”

“How many did you shoot as of now?”

“Eighty.”

“Eighty times? Do you always shoot that much?”

“Yep. I’m shooting a hundred arrows every day, and aiming for a total of ten-thousand arrows. Today’s the seventy-ninth day.”

“What’s your goal?”

“Nothing in particular. Just a whim, so to speak.”

The man narrowed his eyes and smiled his crescent moon-smile again.

A tsurune that glowed against the deep blue heavens (3).

As he placed his feet on the pedals of his bike, the moon was shining above his head.

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[kurara-black-blog]

[Voltron: Metal Against the Nebulae] Chapter One: Mysterious Castle

Date: 21/09/18

Words: 1163

Warning: Eh, I’ll update this as we go on.

Tag: @moonsworllld ; @xarphay ; @skydisneylover

A/N: Also a birthday gift for myself. This is an original Voltron AU, it’s basically me rebooting Voltron via fanfiction. New caracters, new places, new lots of things.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with this situation.”

“Laura, we really don’t need your sarcasm right now.”

“You just think you don’t, chief.”

All Laura received was a warning glare, but she wasn’t bothered. Haruka glaring at her was a common occurrence.

It was supposed to be a good day. It was Lilaq’s eighteenth birthday and they were supposed to visit her home planet. Or what was left of it after the galra invasion. The trip had been smooth, they had shared stories about the past and about fantasies. They treated themselves by eating a bit more than usual, it was a special day after all. They took turns piloting the ship. No galra attacks, no other aliens being annoying, no problems anywhere. Their supplies were full, their ship had enough energy to last a few (Earth) months. The stars shined more than ever. And they were happy. They were okay. It was a good day.

Not for long, sadly.

They were lost.

The scanners weren’t working and they had never been in that side of the universe before.

And there was a gigantic spaceship--or something that resembled a spaceship--floating in the middle of the nebulae.

“And the day started so well...”

“Laura.”

“What should we do, Haruka?”

Haruka stared at her team. Emma was silently watching the vastity outside, calm green eyes stealing glances towards Laura every so often. Isabel, the one who asked what they should do, was worriedly glancing between Haruka and the scanners. Lilaq was fidgeting in her seat, probably trying to find a way to blame herself about the situation, as she had the tendency to do. Laura was sitting on her chair without a care in the universe, lazy smile and relaxed stance.

Closing her reddish eyes, the girl sighed.

“Let’s go check the ship.”

“Aw yeah! A chance to die, are we sure it’s not my birthday?” Emma stared at her amusedly and Laura smirked back before turning to their leader. “Is it really a good idea to explore an abandoned spaceship floating in the middle of nothing?”

“Any better idea?”

“We leave.”

“How about we vote?”

“Now you’re just cheating!”

“Who wants to leave without checking the spaceship?”

Laura raised her hand together with Emma.

“Who wants to check that spaceship?”

Haruka, Lilaq and Isabel raised their hands.

“See? That’s cheating! Isa and Lilaq always follow you!”

“Laura, take your seat and lead us to the ship.”

“If we die, I’m blaming ya’ll.”

The ship was enormous and looked more like a castle than a ship. A white castle, with tall round towers, floating in between the nebulae, no sign of life nearby. The girls ship was minuscule in comparison. The ship had a big front yard, full of plants and a fountain. Deciding to land there, Laura could feel their ship go through some resistance, as if they were piercing a weak barrier. Isabel immediately ran to the scanners, amazed by what they said.

“There is a barrier to hold oxygen... It’s almost as if the castle had its own atmosphere!” Isa exclaimed. “That means we can get out without too much worry.”

“Good, death by toxic gas is not the way I want to go.” Laura grumbled.

“Grab your weapons and be on alert.”

The first thing they saw getting out of the ship were the trees with pink leafs and bushes with orange flowers. The grass was green, but the tips where almost yellow. They were beautiful. The flowers smelled sweet. The path woven in between the plants brought them to a deactivated fountain. Aside from the plants, there was no life around. Walking forwards, the group was met with a big entrance, white and extremely tall doors separating them from what the castle held in its insides. Laura instinctively gripped her gun tighter, Emma tensing by her side.

She could feel it, there was something calling her, telling her to go inside. She was no stranger to telepathy, they’d meet aliens with that characteristic before, but it felt different. It wasn’t just some alien trying to communicate, there was something else there. Something big, old, and extremely powerful, beckoning her with what sounded like mighty roars. Something was very much alive inside that castle. Something was trying to get her inside the castle.

“I have a bad feeling…” Lilaq mumbled, lagging behind with hesitance, gripping her lance until her knuckles turned pinkish.

“We came here, might as well enter.”

“Chief, usually I would just go with whatever you say, but there is something in this castle… Something we do not understand.”

Chief sighed, worry painted on her face. She didn’t want to endanger her friends, but she also didn’t want to leave without exploring. It’d been a long time since they left the ship and they were all aching to stretch their legs. Even the always so calm engineer, Emma, was getting restless, and Isabel was going crazy with being surrounded only by tech. The only that didn’t look bothered was Laura, but after years of friendship, Haruka knew it was just an act so the others—Lilaq, more likely—wouldn’t worry.

“Haru, can’t we at least get some plants?” Isabel asked, crouching down by the bushes, hands halfway to grab some flowers.

Before the Japanese girl could answer, they heard a roar come from the depts of the castle. The whole ship shook violently. Emma shot out a hand to steady Lilaq before she could fall, Haruka doing the same to Isabel. Both the roar and the shaking stopped after a few minutes, finally giving the girls some time to react.

“What was that?!”

“I fucking told you! I told you there was something weird!”

“This is no time to panic!” The black-haired girl exclaimed, studying carefully. Nothing out of ordinary—considering it was a seemly abandoned space castle that was also a ship.

“I say we go in.”

“Emma?!”

“Boss, there is something telling me to go inside. A gut feeling, I think, I don’t know, but it’s strong. It’s like a pull.”

Laura could only frown more after hearing the others say they felt it too. What they felt sounded a lot less intense than what she was feeling. There was something roaring inside her head, a roar very similar to a lion, and it was not happy with her hesitation. She sighed, already feeling the headache starting to form. They would enter, see what in the word did that noise, and leave to the next adventure. Telling the others this, Laura smiled comfortingly at them before heading to the gigantic doors.

“How are we going to get in?”

“We knock, Isa, we’re decent people, remember?”

“And you really think knocking will open the doors of a mysterious castle?”

“Only one way to know.”

The sound of her knuckles rapping on the door echoed for a few seconds before being swallowed by the sound of the doors opening. Inside the castle was dark.

“Welp, we’re fucked.”

“Laura!”

[anon-e-miss]

Amalgus 5

As he had warned, Jazz was no where in sight when Prowl and his sparkling brother onlined again. To the Praxian’s considerable surprise it was early in the light-cycle. He had recharged through half the previous light-cycle and all of the dark-cycle. Prowl could remember no time in his life where he had recharged for so long. It baffled him, and it gave him a better appreciation for the damage he had suffered, and the strain he had undergone over the last terrifying orn.

“Are you hurting?” Bluestreak asked, no doubt catching the grimace Prowl had tried to suppress as he drew them both upright.

“I am alright,” Prowl replied. “Jazz has said he will bring a medic to repair the dents.”

“Jazz found us,” the sparkling said. “He saved us. I’m so happy. I was so scared. I thought the monster would eat you.”

“I do not believe amalgii eat people,” the elder brother replied. “Our rescuer is one and he does not wish to eat us.”

“Is he going to take us home?” Bluestreak asked.

“No,” Prowl said. “ He is taking us to his home. When I am able, I will contact cousin Smokescreen to come fetch you. I will be remaining.”

“Why?!” The mechling cried. “I don’t want to go with Smokey. I want to stay with you!”

“A pair of younglings have been kidnapped their procreator are very afraid for them,” the Enforcer explained. “Jazz is their uncle. He asked me to help him find them. I said yes.”

“Do you think their scared,” Bluestreak asked.

“I think they are,” Prowl replied. “Just as you’ve been.”

“Jazz found us so you should find them,” the sparkling decided. “You’re an Enforcer. You’re good at finding mechanisms.”

“That is right,” the elder brother said “Can you be brave for me when you have to go?”

“I’ll be brave!” Bluestreak promised. Time would tell it would be too much for the little mech but Prowl felt considerable relief that at least Bluestreak understood.

“Thank you. Now, it appears Jazz left us some fuel,” Prowl said, finally noticing the plate of gels and cakes, and cubes of energon. One was a light lavender, proper sparkling grade, he gave it to Bluestreak. “Eat.”

“Slowly,” his brother echoed Prowl’s warning from earlier. “You too! You don’t fuel enough, that’s what origin says!”

“I am fairly sure you were not meant to over hear that.” The Enforcer replied, dryly. “I will fuel as well.”

He did not necessarily keep his fuel levels at their optimum  at all times, even most of the time. Prowl’s processor was generally focused on other things, always had been, and truth be told, he had a fussy tank. Over the vorns he had learned that keeping it no more than three quarters way full prevented the worst of his tank upsets. It was something Prowl had never tried to explain to Camshaft, his originator would have insisted he be examined by a medic, or many medics, poked, and prodded. Near all the Praxian remembered of his sparklinghood was medics, and he loathed to put himself in their path. There would be no avoiding one now. The leader of that gestalt had kicked him repeatedly to when he had tried to escape. His abdomen had hurt ever since. And at this he had his doubts that it was just the cracked and crumbled plating. Prowl had not thought of his missing panel in their flight, but now that he was thinking about it, he wanted a replacement urgently. The idea of stepping out into public without one again was nauseating. How many mechanisms had seen before?

Prowl grimaced a little as he took a sip of his cube. That thought was enough to put him off his energon, but Bluestreak was watching, and he really was, so the elder Praxian sipped slowly at his cube. To his good fortune, the queasiness mostly subsided, though the pain did not, and he was able to drink the cube without feeling like he was going to purge. Bluestreak drank all of his, and a couple of oil cakes. He chattered, as he generally did, curious about the amalgii, fascinated by the ferry. The elder brother made no attempt to quiet him, the sparkling was talkative in general, but especially during times of stress and how could this not be a stressful time for him?

“Origin’s still alive, isn’t he?” Bluestreak asked, suddenly. At one instance he had been asking about seeing the ferry deck, and then this.

“He is,” Prowl assured him, and it was the truth.

“He’s just there,” the mechling said. “I don’t feel him getting stronger.”

“He will try his hardest to live for you, Bluestreak,” the Enforcer promised. “It may not be enough but he will fight. Believe in that.”

“I hope we’re not intrudin’,” Jazz said just as Prowl was turning to see who and what was coming through the door. “Mech here’s Hoist, general practitioner. He outta set ya to rights, Prowl.”

“Hello, Medic Hoist,” Prowl said.

“Good to meet you, Prowl,” the big green and orange medic replied. “Mechling, could I get you to sit with Jazz on the cot? I’m going to see about fixing up your brother.”

“Okay!” Bluestreak agreed, and he hopped off the berth before Prowl could react. Jazz scooped him up, swung him around and sat him on the berth… and gave him a toy, a blue stuffed luponoid. The mechling gave a little whoop of delight and cuddled it to his chassis. “Thank you!”

“Y’er welcome, youngspark,” Jazz replied. “I got somethin’ else ya might like.”

It was a puzzle cube, of some variety. Prowl did not get an opportunity to see what it properly was as Medic Hoist wasted no time direct him back on the berth. Even with the blankets, his doorwings protested, but Prowl suffered in silence. The medic initiated his scanners without preamble and scanned the Praxian from the base of his peds, to the top of his helm. He made no comment as he scanned, but after the principle one, he came in for a second more detailed scan.

“Looks like you’ve taken a few beatings,” Hoist said.

“They hit him, and kicked him,” Bluestreak piped up. “Stuck him with this… thing and kicked him and kicked him. He didn’t let them touch me. They hit him and told me they’d hurt him worse if I wasn’t quiet.”

“I’m sorry you saw that little mech,” the medi said. “Your self-repairs have done a good job with most of the internal damage, Prowl. But you’re fuel tanks got a dent, and that probably doesn’t feel too good.  Compressed plating on your abdomen, a few cracks, probably from the same kick. Loads of dents. Looks like burnt out wires from a shock stick too. I’m going to give you a blocker and fix up your tank before anything else. Don’t worry Bluestreak, you’re brother will be in tip top shape in no time.”

Prowl drifted. The blocker Hoist gave him did its work and the Enforcer felt nothing, and though he heard the other mechanisms in the room speak, he could not decipher the glyphs, though he also did not have the processor power to try. So he floated, with no concept of time. He came back to awareness, still fuzzy around the edges as Hoist was returning the armour to his mid section. Through the fog, Prowl felt the improvements in his frame, the pain was largely gone.

“I topped off your tank,” Hoist said, in a sort of conversational way. “Dents smoothed out, so that won’t give you any more trouble. I can see from your sensor read out that your doorwings are under stress but we should be able take care of that. I sent Jazz to get more blankets, or something to give you some real support.”

“Thank you,” Prowl said, his mental faculties slowly returning. “Will you examined Bluestreak?”

“Already did,” the medic replied. “Jazz mentioned he was recovering from a rust infection. Poor thing, that must have been terrifying for you. He’s doing great. His self-repair systems have almost resolved. Jazz took him with him so he can get some fresh air.”

“He took him?” The Enforcer asked, a surge of fear filled him.

“Bluestreak’s safe with Jazz,” Hoist said. “He was getting upset watching your surgery, it was easier on him to get away. One thing to be said for Jazz that he’s both well loved and well respected, and not just in those circles.”

“Are you one as well?” Prowl asked.

“Nope,” the large mech said. “Regular Tagonian. I split my time between Iacon and the Crystal Empire, discovered some amalgii by accident. Didn’t get slagged for it because Jazz figured I didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite to be honest. He let me in on the secret of this ferry, and it saves me a load of time crossing the sea.”

"Are more amalgii like him?” The Praxian asked.

“No,” Hoist replied. “They’re like any group, good and bad and somewhere in the middle. He spends more time out in the world, likes it that way, I think he’s a bit of a rebel.”

“He is taking us to his home,” Prowl said. 

“That’ll be an interesting experience,” the medic said. “I’ve never been. They’re cautious about who they let close. You can imagine why. If you’re looking for a way out, I might call myself his friend, but I’m not keen on being an accessory to kidnapping.”

“I agreed,” the Enforcer said. “A favour for a favour.”

“I think your life is about to get a whole lot more interesting,” Hoist declared.

[sarissophori]

Forebode, Chapter 1

UCS Wayfarer, registration 0732-419-058B

Crew: 15

Homeport: Sorenson Orbital Shipyards, Nova Astria, Reyal system

Destination: Uncharted system XH-31590M

Mission: To locate UCS Wanderer and crew, classified missing;

              To rescue, if any, survivors from Wanderer;

              To resume, if able, Wanderer’s assignment of surveying moon XH-Ld for possible   habitation.

 Manifest: Hindel, Captain Laura B.

               Ellson, Ensign Brian A.

               Tajmaran, Ensign Ashok K.

               Komev, Ensign Nanya H.

               Walsh, Dr. Kane S.

               Talgold, Dr. Elliot T.

               Hornens, Chief James G.

               Mason, Chief Ben R.

               Ausmith, Lieutenant Jim A.

               Han, Dr. Henry F.

               Varrez, Dr. Anna I.

               Barrens, Sgt. Frederick R.

               Farzen, Pvt. Jon D.

               Davis, Pvt. Calvin S.

               Duvin, Pvt. Amal L.

      The interior of the Wayfarer was empty and still, the corridors dark, lit only by reserve power. The dull drone of the engines, the ship’s loudest noise, hummed through her three main decks, with no one to listen. For six standard months this was how she traveled, ghosting her way from her home system out to the unknown for the purpose of making it known, boosted by her main drives to a fraction of the speed of light. The onboard computer monitored, along with everything else, the closing lightyears and astronomical units towards the ship’s ultimate destination: a distant system once beyond the reach of humanity’s interstellar grasp, and far, far beyond the homeworld where that reach started near three centuries before.

       Now entering the boundaries of this alien system, the computer decelerated the main drive to impulse power, and warmed the primary generators; harsh florescent lighting kicked on, and it began waking the crew under its care.

       Its lonely sojourn and last-minute tasks completed, it now awaited the command to return automated control of the ship to manual, reverting to standby once more, until the long journey back home.

 Inside the Wayfarer’s stasis chamber, fifteen cryo-pods began the process of slowly revitalizing their occupants, gently rising them from frozen sleep to the eve of consciousness. The lids hissed and opened, taking the crew from dark pleasant numbness to a stark, florescent reality.

       Stiffly, one by one, they sat up, rubbing their cold dry skin and stretching in the artificial gravity. The crew’s assigned search and rescue (SAR) contingent, sergeant Barrens and privates Farzen, Davis and Duvin, were first on their feet.

       “We’re warming up before we hit the showers” Barrens said, rolling his shoulders. “Come on, forty reps each, get to it.”

       “And lose first dibs on water, sir?” Davis said.

       “I guess so” Barrens said. “A small price to pay for keeping your mind and body sharp floating in the middle of nowhere. Don’t make me go to fifty.”

       With that Barrens dropped and started his push-ups, his men following.

       Next out was Captain Hindel of civilian rank, who wasn’t quite as enthused with exercising first thing after cryo-sleep. Stifling her yawns, she went from pod to pod, checking on her crew and helping them amble out onto the deck: engineers Hornens and Mason, and shuttle pilot Ausmith, veteran ship-hoppers with years spent beyond the core systems, always used to doing more with less; doctors Walsh and Talgold, on their first deep space assignment; ensigns Ellson, Tajmaran and Komev, fresh from the academy and also on their first assignment; civilian science officer Han with a twenty-year background in xeno-biology; and geological specialist Varrez, who had never left Nova Astria before; a fresh crew under a first-time captain hoping to make a good impression for Sorenson.

       They all showered, dressed, ate and manned their stations, be it the hangar bay, engineering, or the bridge. Captain Hindel was already at work, giving the computer the codes necessary for manual control, restoring initiative to all primary consoles and terminals. Successful readouts showed green across her display, and the soft hum of electricity filled the bridge.

       The doors behind her opened and her flight officers walked in, each assuming their post under the gaze of her captain’s chair.

       “Morning ma’am” they said.

       “Ensigns” Hindel said. “Enjoy your first cryo-sleeps?”

       “Ugh, if you can call it sleep” Komev said, sitting down at navigation. “More like passing out inside a freezer. Christ, they’re cold.”

       “You get used to it” Hindel said.

       “If you say so, captain” Ellson said, joining Tajmaran at the helm.

       “At least none of you got nauseous” Hindel said. “That’s very common with first timers.”

       “I wanted to” Komev said. “I still want to.”

       “You can, just not on your console, please.”

       Komev swished a quick salute. “Aye-aye, ma’am.”

       “Good” Hindel said. “Has manual been fully restored to helm?”

       “Yes ma’am” Ellson said, testing his controls for responsiveness. “Helm’s green.”

       “Scanners showing green as well” Tajmaran said.

       “Navigation?”

       “Navigation’s green” Komev said.

       “Secondaries?”

       “Checking with Engineering” Tajmaran said. “Engines on medium burn, fifty percent impulse. Reactors within normal parameters; coolant systems functioning properly.”

       “Any signals from the Wanderer?”

       “No ma’am” Komev said. “No beacons, no distress calls, not even broadband transmissions. Just space and static.”

       “Keep trying” Hindel said, even though she, and they, knew how remote the chances were of picking up anything. The last transmission from the Wanderer was nearly two standard years ago, before she was declared missing; a check-in from their captain letting home base know they had reached the system safely. That in mind, Hindel sent out her own check-in back to control at Nova Astria, getting a funny, foreboding feeling as she did.

 The Wayfarer sailed on into system XH-31590M, the twin suns Xandra and Halbert shining faintly off starboard side, bathing radiance on the twelve planets and dozens of moons in orbit; mostly small, rocky worlds bare to radiation, unfit for colonies. More promising was the system’s four gas giants and their impressive array of planet-sized moons, some measuring twenty thousand kilometers in circumference, with atmospheres.

       Gliding past the outermost three, after one-hundred and twenty standard hours, the Wayfarer came into visual range of the innermost and largest of the giants, XH-Lambda, a rusty orange twinkle on the forward windows, three point twenty-five AUs from their current position; Xandra and Halbert were now the brightest stars in their relative space.

       “Try again” Hindel said.

       For the hundredth time Komev sifted through all available channels for any kind of transmission indicating the Wanderer was still broadcasting, repetition somewhat dulling her resolve, but always ready to catch the faintest ping on her headset. After a few minutes, she shook her head.

       “Nothing, ma’am.”

       “Are you scanning for short-range comms as well?”

       A slight pause, then “With respect ma’am, those aren’t strong enough to make it out this far— assuming its originating from the planet.”

       “Even so” Hindel said. “Now that XH-L is in visual, I’d like you to start. Your point is noted, but we can’t assume their position until we have confirmation. I want confirmation.”

       “Aye Captain.”

       Hindel turned to the helm. “Anything on scans?”

       “Just dust and radiation feedback” Tajmaran said. “A few metallic signatures too, but none matching the Wanderer; most likely asteroids.”

       “There’s a debris cloud point seven-five AUs off portside” Ellson said. “But that puts it too far out from the Wanderer’s course to be her. Scans show the composition doesn’t match anyway.”

       “I still want a report sent to my quarters before rotation’s end” Hindel said.

       “Will do, ma’am.”

       Hindel sat back in her chair, elbows on armrests, and stared off past the forward windows to the twinkling gas giant growing before them with every hour, touching the dark corners of the bridge with a soft orange. Her training always insisted on proactivity and improvisation to help achieve a mission, especially in uncharted space, but what more could be done? Sitting in a chair, listening for a noise, looking for a signature, repeating to nauseum; it gnawed at her instinct to do more, especially after so long with nothing to show for it.

       Yet she admitted to herself, quietly, that her expectations really weren’t too different than her officers at this point. She knew they weren’t going to find anyone out here in the literal middle of nowhere, not after all this time. This was a glorified salvage mission, absolutely. Still, she felt the need as captain to put on a brave face, insist on finding survivors, and keep her crew focused. Besides, if they were ever lost, she’d sure like to know that any ship sent to look for them didn’t simply write off hope at the start. Anyone lost out here deserved that much.

 After one hundred and sixty-eight standard hours since waking, the mass of XH-Lambda filled the forward windows of the Wayfarer’s bridge, making them polarize for compensation. Bands of red and dusty brown swirled and mixed like estuaries, blending into thunderheads flickered by pinpricks of static lightning, or swelling into deep crimson spots fed by their own tidal rotations. Ellson and Tajmaran took their readings and uploaded them to the ship’s computer.

       The Wayfarer tilted slightly starboard and nosed down, shifting their view of XH-Lambda and making a play of the shadows. As they entered its outer orbit, they came within visual of a moon glowing in the distance, an unassuming speck in the void. This speck, XH-Ld, was the Wanderer’s destination, and likely location.

       “Scans, people” Hindel said. “Give me some good news today.”

       Static crackled in her headset as Komev tried again to hone in on a manmade signal, beacon or communication on any frequency…finding none. Tajmaran analyzed sensor pings around the moon’s orbit for artificial traces, including wisps of ionized radiation, also coming up empty.

       “Sorry captain, the usual story.”

       “Well that just leaves the moon itself then, doesn’t it?” Hindel said. “Ellson, take us within low orbit over XH-Ld, holding at three hundred kilometers.”

       “Setting course” Ellson said, tapping in the coordinates. “ETA in four hours.”

       Hindel nodded and stood up from her chair.

       “Ellson, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me.”

 The captain isolated herself in the ‘study’ of her bedroom, taking the time to send off her first report since entering the XH system:

<Log 1

  Hindel, Laura A. manual report

  Mission time: 4,488.23.00 hours

  System scanned for all comms; negative finds, no responses. Within short range

  broadcast of XH-L and moon. Area around moon scanned; no results. Will attempt

  again once in low orbit. Search team on standby. Secondary mission parameters

  still assumed. >

         “Computer, sinfonia number two, the romantic.”

       Classically-styled music played from her desk, filling the room with its waltzing melody and sending her worlds away from the tedium of the bridge, back to the green, rolling fields of Coasta Paradizia on Mars where she grew up. She closed her eyes and saw the sun again, and wind-swept plains with deep canals emptying into the wetlands of Mare Cydonia. The summer cloud fronts over the Arabia Gulf made for particularly beautiful sunsets, and she saw them again, here at her desk, at least for a while.

[supercilicus-blog]

aint nothin like big, half naked sweaty buff guys grabbing each other and pounding each other into the ground in the woods all alone--

drabble of my big buff redneck n @supergalacticsoldier ‘s bojack sparring

i’d saaay this is pg13??

CW: broken noses, blood, mild violence, faces being punched and rednecks being knocked out

word count: 1,472

While sparring was their most common activity, for the most part, they were always on par and while Thirteen did appreciate an attempt for them to be on even grounds, he always wanted to improve. No improvement could be made if they were always on equal terms, which did irk the android to some degree. He’d eventually made the suggestion for Bojack to power up to his absolute best, to not let him land a single punch out of pity or hold back. If he was going to improve, he wanted to do it on his own and with every ounce of effort he could do until he landed a punch on the other under fair circumstances.

Whatever Thirteen had been expecting out of Bojack’s complete potential, was certainly not this and while he did respect the other’s immense strength and capabilities, he didn’t think he would be this damn difficult to even land a punch on, much less match his speed as well. Even then, Thirteen was growing frustrated with the fact he was holding back on him and even when he was trying his literal best, he was STILL unable to land a damn thing on him. His frustration is evident with the way he’s beginning to make rash decisions, opting to lunge at the other rather than try to guess where he would appear next.

The android barely manages to dodge the green fist that managed to graze past his own face, white eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his 3D scanners would try to analyze the location of his opponent. However, trying to predict Bojack’s next move while simultaneously trying to evade his attacks was proving to be very difficult, nearly too much for Thirteen to be able to keep up with his friend for much longer. He grunts as the next blow from his extra terrestrial friend manages to hit him square in the gut, his body keeling over for a split second with the sweat already staining his body dripping onto the dirt covered ground of the forest they’d been sparring in.

When he quickly looks up, trying to recover from the blow, although he’s still dizzy and nauseated from the wind being punched out of him, Thirteen’s immediate response is to search the area. It’s too empty for his liking with Bojack being no where in his peripheral vision while his scanners are unable to track him, the android frowns as he drags himself to lean against one of the large trees occupying the forest in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Shit..!”

Blue eyes are frantically searching any place he can for the other while his breathing is heavy, the sound of himself exhaling is all he can hear aside from the distant, ambient sounds of the animals living within these parts. He doesn’t like the feeling of the current atmosphere, brushing his hair which he had tied into a low ponytail over his shoulder. Clearly, the other was just toying with him and this point and the android frowns at the thought, not pleased with the notion whatsoever. He initially thought the challenge of fighting Bojack at full strength to be enticing, but this was just starting to get infuriating the longer it dragged on.

However, the moment he vaguely steps away from the tree, he can feel a sharp pain shooting throughout his back as he’s sent flying through the trees before crashing onto the floor, a loud groan escaping him as he quickly tries to pull himself. Bastard didn’t fight fairly, he should’ve known this by now. Thirteen is on his knees, quickly trying to get an idea of where he’s to pop up next, but his question is quickly answered when he feels a pair of hands grab his waist with a grip so tight, he physically tenses at the touch as he’s yanked off his feet quite literally.

He can hear the other male’s laugh close to his ear as he’s struggling to breath normally, green arms constricting him and holding him tightly to the other’s own chest. He squirms in the hold, growling as he can feel himself beginning to burn up in his face when he realizes the placement of the other’s hands. One on his chest, the other just below his pecs and before Bojack gets the chance to retort with a comment, the android elbows him rather forcefully in the gut. Once Thirteen is free, he quickly distances himself while glaring at his friend, trying his best to dismiss the feeling in his chest, his heart racing from the adrenaline.

He wipes away at the thick coating of sweat beginning to form on his forehead, panting heavily as he stares down at the other, who seems to be sweating as much as he is, though he’s no where near being as drained as he is. Typical, Thirteen had suspected Bojack had been hiding his strength whenever they sparred simply due to the fact he’d never seemed to be as exhausted as he was. He’s not sure how Bojack is handling the heat of the sun right now, but the cyborg knows that he wouldn’t mind laying in the residential creek for a few hours after this.

There’s a moment of pause before the android quickly regains his stamina, posing his arms in front of his torso to prevent anymore grabs or punches directed at his chest and gut from actually landing. Thirteen notices almost immediately that the green male made no attempt to go for him just yet, and that puts him on edge for the time being. They’re both as still as they can be, but the android is frowning, the fact Bojack continually smiles at him as if he knew something he wasn’t aware of. He growls out of irritation, blue eyes staring at another pair of blue ones, waiting to see if he dared make another move. His eyes trail, to see if there was any sign of Bojack beginning to tire but the moment his eyes rest on his body, glistening with sweat in the sunlight, Thirteen doesn’t appreciate the way his heart skips a beat once he sees it and he scoffs, quickly adverting his eyes.

Bojack definitely caught eye of that, but he chose to remain passive on the matter because he’d gotten what he’d wanted. He was distracted, even just for a small moment, and he quickly closes the gap between themselves with a clenched fist. Spotting the vulnerable position Thirteen left his face in, he takes that opportunity and his fist hits the silver haired android’s face dead on, the force behind the impact causing his body to fly back a few yards, though despite the fact a tree had caught him from flying even further, there was a loud crack and a thud, the tree snapping in half from the collision, with the cyborg’s body laying beneath the shattered trunk.

He’s expecting Thirteen to stand up immediately as he usually does, but after a minute of no response, a frown quickly replaces the smile that had been apparent on Bojack’s face this entire session. Promptly, he begins to walk towards the poor mess that was laying in front of him, and immediately does he notice that blood had been spilled, thus effectively ending their sparring session since their rule was always that they would end at the first draw of blood. He grunts, kneeling down to lift Thirteen’s head, two fingers placed on the cyborg’s neck to check for a pulse that was still there. Shit, he’d hit him harder than he thought if he knocked him unconscious like this.

Bojack also notices the blood seeping from Thirteen’s nose, which definitely looked like it was broken, already beginning to swell and bruise up. With a reluctant sigh, he slings the unconscious man’s arm over his shoulder and lifts his body, his own body going from a light green, back to it’s original teal color and orange hair. In his own defense, Thirteen was the one to get distracted and let his guard down, if anyone was to blame for his broken nose, it was himself. At the very least, Bojack would help him not bleed to death and the heat was beginning to get very pesky and irritating to be in continually for hours, which was why the moment he’d dragged his unconscious friend to the nearby stream of water, he’d rested him against one of the trees near the river bank.

He took notice of him already beginning to stir, simply staring out of curiosity at this point as he can hear his audible curses under his breath, now smiling at the apparent anger the android was in at this point. The rest of the day was going to be interesting, that was for certain.