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bexterbex · 5 years

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A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 14

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Masterlist

Just a reiteration, none of the government officials are based off a specific real person. They are all old privileged men. I do not want to date this fic in that way. I am trying to base their political standings off of the majority of their country's beliefs. They are not progressive, but they are harshly conservative.

Also, I may be later in posting the next few days or may not be able to post, my Tumblr @bexterbex will have a post on whether or not I can post that day. My sister is getting ready to have baby #3 and I am with her assisting with her other 2 and cleaning house. Sorry for any future inconvenience.

Chapter 14: Dirty Politics

Entering the war room once again, everyone shifted uncomfortably as you two entered. Kylo’s demeanor shifted into one of strength and power, with underlying tones of anger. You took your seats once more ready to begin. Kylo now held your hand above the table as a silent way to dare anyone in the room to disrespect you.

“Shall we begin,” asked Hux.

Kylo nodded in response.

“The Finalizer will arrive late tonight, early tomorrow morning to help with the demands of registration and the health regime. Currently, we need to help evaluate an addition to the education system to increase overall hygiene here on the surface,” said Hux.

With this Prime Minister of Australia scoffed, “our people are not unclean, I think the First Order is overstepping its bounds with telling people how to clean themselves.”

“Currently over 700 million people are living in extreme poverty. 8.9 percent of your population are defecating in non-hygienic places, unvaccinated children are on the rise in your first world countries, are just but a few issues the Earth has with health,” said a male first order officer. “Does this not concern you that almost one-seventh of the world's population is without almost any health care? That disease may spread overnight?”

“Sub Saharan Africa and the poor areas of Asia are not my concern,” said the Australian Prime Minister.

“Were you not asked to help represent all of the governments of your world,” asked General Hux, daring the prime minister to defy him.

“Yes, the prime minister did agree to that,” said the Chancellor of Germany.

“The U.S. government’s own Center for Disease Control reported that 35 percent of women and 69 percent of men do not wash their hands after using the restroom. A basic hygiene principle that is shared across the galaxy. Obviously, Earth does need education on hygiene as it would help stop any of these outbreaks that you have been known to have,” said another female officer.

The Prime Minister of Russia scoffed, “we are not unclean.”

“I don’t believe they were suggesting you were unclean, but that the majority of Earth was unclean,” you replied.

“There is also the discussion of reproductive health, all First Order planets have adequate birth control and access to feminine hygiene products. Which we can see from the data, your planet seems to be lacking in all these areas and will need to be justified,” said the female officer.

“Birth control and feminine hygiene product? Now this is ridiculous,” said the U.S. President. “There will be no need for the First Order being involved in that. Besides periods are not an important medical issue.”

This made you a bit angry, but fortunately enough for the President, it was General Hux who spoke first, “The First Order merely wants those who would like these products to be able to receive them.”

“Yes, and I suppose you want our women to become common First Order whores with this access to birth control,” asked the almost now enraged Russian Prime Minister. Staring directly at you.

This conversation made your blood boil. He was now insinuating exactly what he was thinking earlier about you. Kylo’s grip on your hand tightened. You could hear him snort through the vocoder, “Certainly your wife will be of no use to us, but a healthy self-controlled population is necessary. After all, I believe it is also common here on Earth that you are born from women, and I believe you have not advanced enough for the use of clones.”

With this statement, the Russian Prime Minister stood up enraged. “What you do with your ha-“ he wasn’t able to complete his sentence before he was grabbing at an invisible hand around his neck, choking the air out of him. All eyes on him.

General Hux next to you turned to Kylo pleaded, “Supreme Leader, I might suggest that you release him. It would not look good to the Russian people if you killed their prime minister and they are not a country we can afford not to be cooperative.”

You turned to Kylo, desperate to find his eyes through his mask as he turns to you. “Release him.” In an instant, the prime minister dropped to the floor gasping for air. The U.S. President and Australian Prime Minister helping him back into his seat. All of the government officials in the room looked terrified.

You had no idea what just happened. You didn’t really know how Kylo did what he did, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that he did it in the first place. Before you could speak, Kylo addressed the room.

“You and your people will follow the will of the First Order, my will as Supreme Leader. I will leave health decisions to a committee that I have designated. They will bring forward their proposals and I will either approve or disapprove them from there. This discussion and meeting are over. See to it during tomorrow's meetings that you all control yourselves or there will be consequences for your people,” and with that, he stood and he leads you to stand as well. He guided you out the door without another word. You did not stop at the red sitting room again, instead, he lead you out of the White House and into his command shuttle.

You sat down and before you could even start to buckle yourself he was doing it for you. You could feel the silent pent up anger radiating off of him. He barked a harsh order to the pilot to take you back to the Steadfast.

The ride up was in total silence, but he took you hand in his once more. Once you docked, he was quick to unbuckle you both. Quickly guiding you both through the hangar and the halls, not stopping for the official salute. You quickly found him leading you not to his chambers but to the room that he had shown you. The door quickly opened and you two rushed in. Before the door could completely shut, his helmet was off and tossed to the side making a loud thud against the durasteel.

Kylo’s back was against the star side windows—sitting. His face in one hand and the other holding itself out to you. His breathing was labored again, you feared what was behind his eyes.

You took his hand and he pulled you down into him. His face buried in your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you—he was holding back a sob. Your hand found its way into his hair as the other to his lower back. You began to rub circles trying to calm him.

“Kylo,” you said softly.

He was looking at you now, “I am a monster, don’t you see? You shouldn’t stay with me, or you will get hurt too.”

“What was it that you said before? The Force brought me to you, why would I leave if it chose me for you?” This time you tucked yourself into his chest, refusing to move.

After a few minutes, his breathing calmed and he wound a gloved hand in your hair, holding you to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tilted you head up to meet his eyes. “Whoever hurt you before doesn’t matter. I am here let me help you. Whether it’s to keep your temper in check, helping with work, or anything else that is why I am here.” You place a hand over his heart and one of his joins yours.

“I had to protect you. I have to protect you, do you understand? Without you, I will self destruct. Taking everyone with me,” said Kylo while placing a hand under your chin. His thumb ghosting over your cheek.

“I know, but thoughts can’t harm me, only actions can. Defend me against actions. I like that you are trying to be a knight in shining armor but I am also a big girl who can handle herself. Especially against gross old men. When their thoughts turn into actions, then you can swoop in and save me.” You tucked yourself back into his chest, you both just sat there while time seemed to stop.

“I need you by my side helping me with Earth. The politicians are stubborn and archaic. It's a large planet with a big population. The biggest the First Order has conquered yet, but your people are unhealthy and uneducated,” said Kylo finally.

“Why don’t we go and try to figure out some of this together. I know you said you were going to appoint a committee, why don’t we try to do that now. Get it out of the way, and relieve some stress,” you suggested.

Kylo simply nodded. You stood up, and so did he. He pulled you back to his chest once more and buried his face in your hair. You stood like that for several moments before he separated from you. He retrieved his helmet and once again you were off into the winding halls of the Steadfast.

You reach a room you have never been to, once inside it was a large empty conference room. Kylo walked over to one of the computer panels on the wall and started typing in commands.

“We will wait for the generals and officers to come back, in the meantime you and I will eat lunch.”

A droid appeared with plates of food and you and Kylo ate lunch in the conference room. One finished the droid took everything back.

A junior officer entered the room and informed you that the generals and officers would be here shortly as their shuttle had just arrived. Moments later they filed through the door, quickly taking seats and seemingly ready for a bomb to go off.

“We are going to discuss the health regime committee first and then I believe we should discuss other areas of education. The earth is a mess with citizen on citizen violence that will be stopped,” said Kylo.

“Well, the hygiene committee will be something easy to tackle. Mostly it should be filled with First Order medical staff, someone from the CDC and the WHO. Unlike the politicians I believe that average citizens and the Earth’s medical professionals will agree with a better health campaign,” you said.

“When the Finalizer docks tonight I can ask their chief medical officer to put together a group of nurses and doctors from both ships to start the committee,” said General Hux.

“Inform them that a visual campaign will help, videos and posters. Literally everywhere. Children will be the easiest to influence, adults will be harder,” you said.

The officers were noting your comments. “This CDC and WHO are reputable,” asked General Pryde.

“Yes, unfortunately, most of the time people only listen to them when there is an Ecoli outbreak in lettuce and not when it comes to washing hands and receiving vaccines. But I digress at the ignorance that is my own people,” you replied.

“So they will understand the need that we have for making this planet healthy? That the citizens must be healthy,” asked another officer.

“Yes, as far as I am aware, doctors on my planet take oaths to health and the safety of patients and potential patients. They also will believe in the science behind it, when given facts and studies. I have yet to meet a doctor that doesn’t want their patients to bathe regularly, to receive vaccinations, to have regular checkups. That is something doctors want,” you said.

“General Hux will inform the chief medical officer of the Finalizer of what is to happen. Tomorrow the committee will be formed before 10:00 hours and will by the end of the day have a start to a more solid campaign,” said Kylo.

He then turned to you and asked, “Will you help with the health committee?”

“Yes,” you respond.

“Supreme Leader, we must also be aware that there must be an education started once all registration is completed. As of now we have currently completed the registration of 27% of the population has been registered to date and 98% of the registered have started their education process,” said general Hux.

“Yes, behavioral education along with the standard education must be important. We should hold off for two or three days to see where the health education committee is, that can always be put as a main focus to then share a behavioral one,” said Kylo.

The mention of behavioral training piqued your interest. What need was there for behavior training? And what would it involve? Public health was something you were comfortable sharing but if Kylo could read minds what would happen in this behavioral training. You silently hoped you would be able to shape or sway this. If you learned anything from movies, an overpowered government did not allow freedom, and freedom of thought was the most important thing you could think of.

“But I would like General Pryde to investigate what already might be available for behavioral training education at the main library in the U.S.-“ Kylo turned to you to help answer.

“The Library of Congress,” you supplied.

“Yes, the Library of Congress. There should be something there worth our time.” With that Kylo dismissed the officers before you were left alone General Hux approached you.

“Here is your dog tags my lady. They will grant you access all over any First Order ship and if you happen to be separated from the Supreme Leader it will grant him the ability to find you,” and with that he handed you a set of angular looking dog tags that had a visible tracker chip and circuitry on the back. He soon left. You were now alone again with Kylo.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #star wars #first order #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #sw first order imagine #sw #sw sequels #armitage hux #enric pride

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tarunsaravana · 3 years

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BRAINWASHING CHILDREN THEORY

Now I’m warning you the next theory is pretty dark and probably one of the most unsettleing ones we have talked about in this Blog.

This theory starts with subliminal msgs in kids shows.

SUBLIMAL MESSAGES

By far Spongebob square pants has the most messages that are clearly hidden in grown ups.

There’s jokes about prison “Don’t Drop Them”

Patrick licking sand.

Those are all just jokes, clearly hidden for adults

But there are lot of jokes, some involves suicide.

In a 2001 episode , squidward is being sad the entire time. There is scenes of him walking around dazed stage. There is a scene of him putting in a oven. By far the most darkest moment of them all is sponge bob looks after him thinking his okay. And then he’s says “at least we know he’s alive”. Yeah that might be the darkest line I have ever read in a kids cartoon show. There are plenty of suicidal messages left in other episodes. As I was looking more into it , I found out suicide was in a lot of cartoon tv shows. The ending of looney tunes.this one really gave me chills down spine, in one of the cartoon characters from looney tunes jumping off the bridge shouting “IM FREE”. Once again glorifying suicide. And its not just these clips. Bunny , Daffy Duck, woody woodpecker, daisy and a bunch of cartoon characters ending their life with gun for no reason. the strangest of them all how they made it look exciting to kids.There is a cartoon where mickey gets depressed over Minnie. In that cartoon 3 ways of killing yourself is shown gun, petroleum and for some reason jumping off a bridge. Now I’m not saying this to scare you or not to watch cartoon. These are all just theories none of them are “facts” and they are not meant to hurt anyone/anything. I mean the daisy cartoon where daisy is shown depressed , in that cartoon almost 5 ways of killing yourself is shown and poured into youngsters mind. Gun, grenade ,knife, hanging and bomb.

THEORY(just speculations)

Now why would they put suicide on younger generations brain some people think control of over growth of population, some people think to keep society weak and depressed and fearful state. Because the more younger you are between 1 - 5 years your brain develops and everything you see on your favourite cartoon shows killing themself and also make it exciting. The more society, the more power control over weak society. Think about it kids are depressed , we’re medicating them and putting them on pills and sitting in front of TV while their watching their favorite cartoon character kill themself and also making it seem exciting to kids. I mean the global antidepressant market is estimated over 11.6 BILLION dollars. The government and the economy love depression. We also glorify things like money, fame, success. And of course if we can’t afford things we were told it will set us “free”. That’s why back of our heads teens think suicide is an option. YES , people have severe depression,OCD ,suicidal thoughts me too included in the past. But it is wondering who started all of these negative energy. Think about it your child entertainer Logan Paul filming a dead body in the suicide forest. The nickelodeon shows who show unessasacery content to kids.it involves talking about feet a lot. Even think about the board game which targeted to us as kids.

“THE GAME OF LIFE”. The goal is to succeed or you’ll lose. To win the game of life you need to make money. You should be better than those who are playing against you. Literally the commercial says “Be A Winner in the Game of Life”. I MEAN , COME ON. And the original version of the game of life in 1860 ,created by Milton Bradley ,it literally had suicide on the board as a option. Now its not just suicide being poured into kids pure brain.there’s darkness in every single form. I mean think about the games we used to play as kids. I mean just google “Ring around the Rosie meaning”A rosy rash, they allege, was a symptom of the plague, and posies of herbs were carried as protection and to ward off the smell of the disease. Sneezing or coughing was a final fatal symptom, and "all fall down" was exactly what happened. Again a another event where people die and has shown as exciting to kids. London Bridge. A song about a huge bridge falling down.“London Bridge is Falling Down” could be about a 1014 Viking attack, child sacrifice, or the normal deterioration of an old bridge. But the most popular theory seems to be that first one. More specifically: the alleged destruction of London Bridge at the hands of Olaf II of Norway sometime in the early 1000s. There’s even a darker line singing iron parts will bend and break , bend and break.

Ouija board, a game that makes fun to contact evil spirits in your house.Twister , a game that is marketed to tight teenagers up and down. Imagine the creepy uncles wanna play the game at thanksgiving.and then we have the darkest of them all Hangman , game where you have to choose the correct word or your little stick figure gets hanged. And the darkest part of them all is that , this classroom game is actually based on real life game in the 18th century, prisoners that were sentenced to death by hanging should guess the word, the exicutioner will give and if they guess the word right they’ll live or if not death. The most messed up part of all of this ,that almost all of the prisoners were illiterate which means they didn’t have a chance , that game was to just publicly humiliate them before they died.

NURSERY RHYMES

And it’s not just games which have a darker turn , what’s the first thing you remember as a kid, nursery rhymes. rock bye baby , a song which a baby’s cradle is in the branch of a tree and the branch breaks and the baby falls to the ground. Humpty Dumpty , he sat on a wall and suddenly “had a great fall” and nobody can save him because he’s dead.”its raining and pouring” a song where a old man hits his head on the wall and then dies, “he couldn’t get up in the morning “

Now one of the most disturbing is Peter peter pumpkin eater. A song about a guy who he’s wife doesn’t want him and puts her in a pumpkin and again, song which normalizes holding women against your will. I mean looking back at London bridge there’s a reference to something along the lines of “LOCK HER UP,LOCK HER UP” “LOCK HER UP,LOCK HER UP “(lyrics from London bridge).

INTERNET

Now on the internet kids start watching YouTube kids but don’t worry there’s bunch of dark messages hidden there. Murder,suicide, violence and for some reason lot of vomiting. Then when you’re a teenager you watch plenty of violence movies, tv shows and now internet challenges like momo challenge and blue whale challenge.

DISCUSSION

Everyone on society questions how much evil, death, hatred, depresssion, destruction but do we even have to question it? By looking back at our childhoods what was being put into us and right in front of our eyes. So what’s the overall theory ,”the way to keep a society in large is by fear, chaos ,the only way to make vote for them is to through destruction”” the only way to unite is through tragedies.”

“The only way to keep people happy , is by showing constant realistic expections that don’t really matter”” money, success”. The society that’s peaceful is not a society that can never be controlled.

CONCLUSION(spreading awareness)

So ,what do you do to make sure that chaos doesn’t appear continuously , well make sure to SHOW children how scary and dark the world is at very young age.

News

A mother bought a toddler this princess wand in the dollar store. Imagine the curiosity , shock and surprise when the child carefully peeled the foil to find a image of a another little girl cutting her wrist full blood.

“If you looked close enough its not a joke ,its actual image of a child slit her wrist, I want to know , what they think,how that’s suitable for a child.

Tarun

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clydewinter · 3 years

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Animona Series: Animona Self-Service Console

Welcome to the Animona Self-Service Console, powered by Anima Technologies! Please take note that your transaction with this machine will be recorded to improve our services.

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17 years ago, a team of scientists led by Dr. Lois Jean successfully developed a cure for Alzheimer’s disease. It was regarded as an astounding medical breakthrough. Over the years, Dr. Lois Jean and her team continued developing the cure to make it more potent yet muchmore affordable to the masses.

During their continuous research and experiments, Dr. Lois Jean accidentally developed a procedure that can extract a specific memory from a person, living or dead, as long as their brains are still intact and transfer it to another living person's brain. The extracted memory is what we know today as Animona.

Animona is a composition of brain cells that is carefully extracted and processed for surgical transplant. Hence, Animonas cannot be copied or duplicated. Once a person undergoes memory extraction to be converted into an Animona, that person loses that specific memory.

The discovery and development of Animona led to another medical breakthrough that cured most neurological conditions such as PTSD, depression, schizophrenia, and many more.

With the success of this medical advancement, an eccentric engineer found an opportunity to make Animona available and affordable to the masses. Thomas BelClement, an engineer and the CEO of BC Industries, believed that Animona is a gift to humanity and should be made accessible to everyone.

Thomas BelClement approached Dr. Lois Jean with a proposal that will make Animona globally accessible and affordable. The two agreed and their agreement led to the establishment of Anima Technologies.

Working together, Thomas BelClement was able to invent the first machine that can extract and install Animona from and to a person without undergoing major brain surgery. The machine is called an Animover.

The product was a huge success and in 6 months since it’s launch, Anima Technologies have already sold an astounding seven million Animovers globally in the service of hospitals, clinics, and rehabilitation centers. This made Anima Technologies the most valuable company in the whole world a year after its conception.

Today, Dr. Lois Jean and Thomas BelClement are still working hard together in developing new ways to make Animona much more accessible and affordable to the masses. Just 5 years ago, Anima Technologies invented a cheaper non-intravenous means to intake Animonas in the form of a capsule. This, however, is limited to shorter memory durations only.

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To date, there are two ways of installing Animonas to your brain; via the Animover or by intaking Anicaps.

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The Animover is the first invention by Anima Technologies that omitted the requirement of brain surgeries when transferring Animonas between two persons. The procedure only included the person you will extract memories from, the person where the memory will go to, and the assistance of an expert medical practitioner that has undergone training in operating an Animover.

First, the two patients will have to be induced with anaesthesia and fall into a temporary and controlled coma. Then, the medical practitioner will inject a long but very thin needle on both of the patients’ heads. Once successfully injected, the medical practitioner can prompt the Animover to operate.

The medical practitioner will then navigate through the person’s memory through the Animover for extraction. Once confirmed, the brain cells related to that memory are then extracted from the person’s brain and into the Animover. The machine will then process the extracted brain cells and convert it to an Animona. After 15 minutes of processing, the Animona will then be installed into the other person’s brain. During installation, the receiving person will experience the memory like a vivid dream. After the procedure, the person from where the extraction happened will no longer remember the extracted memory. The receiving person will then wake up and have the extracted memory stored in their brain.

Total time to complete the procedure: 30 to 45 mins depending on how far and how long the memory is from the extracting end.

Accuracy: 99.9998% accurate memory.

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Anicaps are an innovative breakthrough in Animona technology. An Anicap is a capsule that has a specially formulated Animona inside. Unlike the Animover, Anicaps does not require a machine to install an Animona to your brain. You only have to orally intake the Anicap and almost instantly, you can experience the memory that is stored in the Animona.

Extraction of the Animona for the Anicap remains the same as the Animover. Only the receiving procedure differs.

However, unlike the Animover procedure, Anicaps are not capable of storing Animonas that have longer memory durations.

Total time to complete the procedure: Almost instantly.

Accuracy: 95.72%.

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Since the founding of Anima Technologies, Animonas have been globally accessible and much more affordable. Animonas are not also limited to medical use. Some people use Animonas for recreational activities. (The legality of recreational use of Animonas varies from local governing bodies. Please check with your local government about using Animonas outside of prescription.)

Recreational use of Animona

You can enjoy the benefits of Animonas from recreational activities. For example, when Animovers first launched commercially, people who had acrophobia (fear of heights) had Animonas of skydiving memories installed to their brains. This helped them experience skydiving without having to actually jump off from a plane.

Paraplegic patients also enjoy the recreational benefits of Animonas. Those who can no longer move their limbs can stimulate muscle motion by installing Animonas that have memories of intense activities like those of athletes.

If you want to relive a memory, that is also made possible, thanks to Animona technology! You can have a specific memory extracted from your brain, process it into Animona, and reinstall it again so you can relive that memory as if it’s happening at this very moment.

Lifestyle

Many people have lived very interesting lives, went on daring adventures, or had one-of-a-kind memories that only they can experience. Thanks to Animona, you can experience those memories, too.

There are auction houses that specialize in Animona bidding. The Animonas that go to auction houses are usually extremely rare memories or memories from very famous people. The most expensive ones are the Animonas that involve memories of dead famous people. Thanks to the people who preserved his brain, Albert Einstein’s memory when he discovered the final formula of his famous Theory of Relativity sold for 2.5 billion ABC (Absolute Currency) just 2 months ago.

Many people consider specific memories inside Animonas as an art form. As such, there's a huge market of collectors aiming to have exotic and rare Animonas as part of their collection.

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Below is the projected timeline from Anima Technologies:

2055 - Release of Animover IX; faster processing, 100% memory accuracy, AI-operation

2057 - Release of Anicaps Ultra; 100% memory accuracy, extended Animona

2063 - Launch of Aniboost; New product, daily maintenance for brain health, development of photographic memory

2075 - Animona’s 50th Year of Discovery, Launch of Anifinity; Constant brain cell regeneration, projected human lifespan to increase up to 185 years old.

2077 - Discovery of extracting memories from DNA; Animona’s exclusive independence from brain cells.

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Performing Advanced CT Scan. This will take a few seconds.

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Scanning.

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Scan complete.

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Advanced CT Scan Results

Name: Marcus Orponta

Age: 34

Occupation: Military Veteran

Brain Health: 16.4%

Detected illnesses: PTSD (Severe), Anxiety (Severe), Insomnia (Severe), Chances of Stroke (Very likely), Dementia (Severe)

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Since your brain health is below the federal government’s approved threshold, your results have been automatically submitted to the nearest hospital. Please proceed to [Dr. Lois Jean Medical Hospital].

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#animona #short story #story #world building #concept #science #scifi #memory #dystopia #science fiction #literature #series #pilot #future #mystery #fiction

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sailorsilverladybug · 4 years

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An Apology to My Readers: Delays

I wanted to let everyone know that I fully intend to finish my stories, but over the past few days I just haven’t had any will to write. Unfortunately, I am afraid. I’m afraid for my life. I’m afraid for my family. I’m afraid for my town. I’m afraid for my state, and for my country. I live in constant fear, and it hasn’t been helping me find inspiration. It’s been tearing me apart.

I have asthma, or more specifically severe allergies to perfumes and chemicals that react like asthma. This means that I am more likely to have a severe reaction if I come into contact with Covid-19. Comorbidity. You see that word and all you can think is that this is a death sentence. I have left the house three times since early February. Each time I come back and worry for the next several days that I’ve somehow been exposed. Except, my husband is a necessary worker and went to his job every day through the lockdown and continues to go now when the country is reopening too soon and there are thousands dying.

Worse, I have a son in the marines, and he doesn’t always have time to contact his worried mother. I’ve always been a worrier, but never like this before. I wish I could tell you why I am so afraid, but I don’t even know myself. I’m not afraid to die, I suppose, but I don’t want to go out struggling for days, maybe weeks, without enough air. That sounds horrible to me.

So I haven’t been able to write. I haven’t been able to find the hopeful part of me that never writes an unhappy ending. The part that believes there will always be another miracle. The piece of me that thinks everything will work out if you just do your best. How can I, when all around me thousands of people are dying and many of those deaths could have been avoided if people had common decency.

For all those people out there who think a mask is a political statement, please stop. It doesn’t mean you support the democrats. It means we want to live. I am horrified that you could play Russian roulette on not just your life, and the lives of your parents, siblings, spouse, children, and grandchildren, but on MY life, and the lives of MY husband, my son, my nieces and nephews, my sisters and brothers, my mothers and fathers, my grandparents, my friends, and my neighbors. Please stop thinking just because you might survive it, that everyone else will. Some of us won’t.

Be a hero, wear a mask.

Social distancing, proper safety precautions, and wearing masks shouldn’t be political. Stop listening to ANYONE who says it is. Keep your politics away from my immune system. At least let me have the RIGHT to live. That’s all I can ask of anyone.

So no, I haven’t been writing, and I haven’t been responding to emails, because how can I have hope if the very people my town needs to survive are ignoring that we have to live and are refusing to social distance, refusing to wear masks, refusing to remember that people live here all the time. They hear people say we had no cases in our area, so they come in droves, bringing it from outside. My community is almost HALF senior citizens, and the rest of us are made up of couples and young families.

I want to live long enough to meet my own future grandchildren. I want to live long enough to walk the Appalachian Trail, and to see the rest of my beautiful country. I want to live long enough to publish my novels and see them sell millions of copies. I want to live long enough to accomplish my dreams.

Sailor Moon is the type of hero we really need right now, and I so wish that I could sit down and give you a story with her hopeful tone and her joyful light, but I can’t. Right now I would put her on a mission of vengeance, and that isn’t my Sailor Moon. My Sailor Moon always does what is right, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts, even when it means she will lose, because she is the true hero, who refuses to give in, or to give up. My Sailor Moon could never be turned dark because there isn’t a scrap of darkness in her. She has everything she could ever want or need. She is a good daughter and tries to obey her parents and do what they’ve taught her. She is truth and hope and unconditional love.

Sailor Moon would wear a mask. She would wear that mask and walk right out into the middle of town and she would stand up for those of us who need someone to hear us. Not just those with compromised immune systems, but those who have been treated badly for centuries, for the ones who need a place to flee because they don’t have a home anymore due to war or terror. Sailor Moon would love the way we need a hero to love. She would show us that anyone can change, that any heart could be healed, and that any barrier can be breached with a hand outstretched, with love, with friendship, with faith.

Unfortunately, that isn’t the world we live in. It isn’t the world around me right now. I live in a world where a man drove into a grocery store parking lot in MAINE with a rebel flag proudly displayed on his back window... who walked into the grocery store full of necessary workers and refused to wear a mask because it was his ‘right’ to make a political statement. I live in a world where people think it’s perfectly fine to treat others like their lives are meaningless, and where those who are the most necessary workers among the population are often paid the least. Where they can’t afford to stop working even to protect their families because they don’t have that nest egg of savings that those who have more had. I live in a world where people are being evicted from their homes for not paying rent they couldn’t meet because they weren’t ‘essential workers.’

Find me hope and I think I would write a million stories in a day, but I have none. Not when the man who is my president is drawing crowds of unmasked people together and those people then go and infect other people. Meanwhile people who are trying to stay safe are treated like they are making a political statement.

Be a hero, wear a mask.

I’m living in a world where I am afraid to let people into my home for fear they might have Covid. A world where I’m afraid to go out with my sister-in-law to the grocery store... and after the one trip I took with her I panicked for days. Where going out with my husband makes me terrified because someone coughed near me and wasn’t wearing a mask. Where walking into a bookstore means a handful of hand-sanitizer to protect the elderly couple who work there and I still have to listen to people treat them rudely, then force their way past me out the door and ignore the fact that using a walker means it’s more difficult for me.

I want to live in Sailor Moon’s world, where an entire community would come together to tell the military to leave them alone. Where Sailor Moon can take the hand of her enemy and remind them how to be human. I want to live there, where magic could fix a pandemic, and there is always someone there to take your hand when you’re afraid and you wouldn’t be afraid to reach back.

Bring me some hope and I’ll show you my dreams for a world like Sailor Moon’s. But until then my pen is down. My torch is out. My muse is huddled in a corner unable to come out because she’s me, and she is afraid to die like this. Bring me some hope, please. Tell me everything is going to be okay, because right now, I don’t think it will be. Even after this disease goes away, there is still so much hate and so little empathy. I don’t think we will get through this. Bring me some hope.

Be a hero, wear a mask.

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itssynapsextfan · 4 years

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Synapse XT

Synapse XT Reviews – Supplement Fixes Deadly Cause of Hearing Problems & Tinnitus Ringing

Synapse XT is a 100% natural supplement with no additives, chemicals, or other harmful agents that can cause damage to your health. The ingredients used in the production of this product were used after a series of research about how efficient these ingredients are in improving hearing and brain health. The supplement contains eight brain-boosting nootropics that can improve the functioning of the body’s major functioning areas. According to the manufacturers of this product, all ingredients are added in the correct amount.

Synapse XT Review

Synapse XT is produced to address tinnitus, an overwhelming condition that causes a constant deafening sound in the ears. Tinnitus can be as a result of different conditions such as ear infection or ear infection. Synapse XT is designed to deal with the root cause of tinnitus and correct the damage and heal it.

Synapses contain eight natural brain-boosting ingredients. These ingredients help to improve the communication between the brain and the ears. By so doing, the supplement helps to reduce the ringing and buzzing in your ears and improve your earing.

Click to Order Now

Ingredients Used

Synapse XT uses the best ingredients to solve all hearing problems and cognitive

disorders. Ingredients used in producing supplements synapse XT include:

Juniper berry

Garlic

Vitamin Bs

Hawthorn berry

Green tea

Hibiscus

Vitamin C

Juniper Berry

Juniper berry is an antioxidant that helps to change all the damages done to the cell over some time. It helps to improve brain health and as well, help with hearing issues. Juniper berries also contain oxidants which help to reduce oxidative stress.

Garlic

Another ingredient with immense benefit is garlic which helps to reduce the impact of oxidative and free radical damages. Garlic reduces the risk of memory loss and other brain functions. Garlic also protects the brain from inflammation and stress, which are results of neurodegenerative diseases and aging.

Vitamin B

The vitamin Bs in this supplement helps in brain functioning and overall brain health. B- vitamins improves the mood and increases the production of serotonin, which improves cognitive functioning and induces relaxation.

Hawthorn Berry

Hawthorn berry contains lots of antioxidants that help to prevent and reduce

inflammation and other problems that could disrupt the body. Hawthorn berryalsoaids the immune system and improves the tissues in your body.

Hawthorn berry is one of the most important ingredients in Synapse XT that has many medicinal benefits. As a rich source of flavonoids, this ingredient can improve immune system strength and control inflammation and leave it at the healthiest level.

Green Tea

Due to its enormous benefits, green tea has been used in the production of different supplements, including weight loss and metabolism. Green tea contains antioxidants and l-theanine, which helps to increase the activity of dopamine and serotonin. Green tea is added to Synapse XT to help improve hearing and brain cognition.

Hibiscus

Hibiscus helps to lower blood pressure and weight loss. It helps to improve the functioning of the nervous system and support the healing of the ears and brain. It does all these due to its ability to fight bacteria and harmful toxins.

Hibiscus is also rich in vitamins A and C and iron. It helps to reduce the cholesterol level. It also helps protect the liver and improves the performance of the nervous system.

Vitamin C

Vitamin C is generally known as an immune system booster which is very important for healing tinnitus and other conditions. It also has antioxidant benefits which help to nourish the brain. Vitamin C – can improve hearing and speech.

How Does Synapse XT Pills Work?

Synapse XT works as a natural dietary supplement that helps to improve cognitive and hearing problems like tinnitus through a combination of various ingredients. The supplement is made from high-quality material, which makes it 100% reliable to use without fear. Tinnitus can have a great impact on our daily lives, including how we focus at work and communicate with others. Many people believe that tinnitus is a minor condition, which

is far from the truth.

As time goes on and as the condition stays longer in the body, it can begin to affect cognitive ability and leave the sufferers confused. This is why the problem must be addressed as soon as possible.

Click to Order Now

The beautiful thing about this supplement is that you do not have to pay several visits to the doctor or use OTC drugs. This method takes a lot of time before you get the desired results, and it isn’t as safe as many people are made to believe. One of the negative effects of using drugs is that you can depend on it, while your earing organs are still not fully healed.

Other negative effects could include weight gain, insomnia, vomiting and others and these problems can be short-term or long-term. When these side effects occur, further damages could be done to the ears, and an inner ear surgery might be recommended. This is why the best option is choosing natural remedies like Synapse XT.

Benefits of Synapse XT

Synapse XT is produced under safety conditions while following other safety standards of production. The capsules are vegetarian friendly, non-GMO and 100% natural. Synapse XT supplement is created for everyone, regardless of age. It is made from active and effective ingredients. It is one of the unique formulas that improve cognitive and hearing health and the eradication of tinnitus.

The supplement has scientific backing as all ingredients were added after careful evaluation.The Synapse XT supplement is convenient to use, and it doesn’t require any change in your routine other than taking the pills regularly.

Its 100% natural ingredients make it a better product than many others that were produced for improving hearing. The product is made from good quality material and natural ingredients. For best results, take the Synapse XT pills regularly without skipping it for 3-6 months. Although the result usually varies from people to people.

Pros:

Synapse XT is pretty affordable and designed by experts.

The ingredients used are FDA-approved

There are no side effects

It is 100% natural and safe for consumption

There is a 60-day Money-Back Guarantee

It improves your health, supports hearing focus and memory.

It supports the perception of senses and sounds.

It is risk-free and very effective to use

The supplement doesn’t require you to buy expensive equipment.

Cons

It is only available for sale on their official website only.

Buying and Pricing

With the many packages available on the Synapse XT buying in bulk is the best option as you get to pay less. Currently, the deals being offered on the website include the following:

*30-day supply of one bottle costs $69 per bottle

* 90-day supply of three bottles cost &59

* 180-day supply of six bottles costs $49

Synapse XT Reviews – The Conclusion

Synapse XT appears like a pretty good product for fighting tinnitus and improving the functioning of the brain. The natural ingredients that are used in the production of this product are nootropics for improving brain power. This makes it a very effective supplement for the treatment of tinnitus and other related conditions

Click to Order Now

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/waking-up-to-our-new-reality/

Waking Up To Our New Reality

By Sarah Varcas

All dates are UT

When embroiled in the midst of a crisis, the longer view can sometimes help. Reflecting on how we got here, where we want to get to and how we can do so gives both context and meaning to our current trials. It transforms us from the victim of fate to the creator of our reality, and to some extent or other we all created where we find ourselves today. It’s been difficult not to. Modern life has become increasingly unbalanced over time. Estranged from our inherent wisdom we’ve handed responsibility for our health to the ‘experts’; for our security to self-interested politicians; for our meaning to the cult of celebrity and the narrative of hatred and fear peddled by mainstream media. We’ve allowed ourselves, to some degree or other, to be numbed to the consequences of our choices by the drip-fed mindless distraction of social media. And no, we haven’t all done all these things. But everyone’s done something. Just as many have also acted to counter this descent into ever deepening unconsciousness. But as consciousness is raised, so too are the stakes for those who fear exposure of what lies in the shadows. The equal and opposite reaction continues unabated.

At one level, where we find ourselves now shouldn’t surprise anyone. In a world where our immune systems are under attack from suppressive rather than curative health regimes to air pollution to toxins in the food chain and all around us in our throw-away culture, of course disease would eventually have its way! Why wouldn’t it? But on another level there are questions to be asked about why this one and why now? On a planet where over four million people die every year as a result of exposure to outdoor pollution, why weren’t those lives important enough for us to stop what we were doing before? Why haven’t governments the world over mobilised to eradicate that pollution, as they have to stop the spread of Covid-19? Why did humankind largely numb-out to the consequences of its modern lifestyle and carry on as normal until now? What’s so special about this moment in time? What’s changed?

Confronting our fear

The Saturn / Pluto conjunction in January 2020 pulled back the veil to reveal the consequences of humanity’s arrogance. The assumption that we could simply continue forever raping and exploiting this planet with impunity has been thrown into stark relief by the narrative of a virus that threatens the continuation of life as we know it. Many see this as Mother Nature’s revenge. Others believe it to be manmade. Still others see an act of obfuscation to test just how far humanity’s behaviour can be shaped by a narrative of fear. We may never know definitively how we got to where we are now, but all these perspectives contribute important angles to the debate about where we go from here. Whilst a virus is the core narrative, the many attendant issues are just as much a part of the picture being painted in the months to come.

The scientific rationalism of the modern age has fostered a monumental fear of death such that aging has become our nemesis and youth idealised beyond all reason. We must stamp out disease and battle it into submission rather than listen to its message and change accordingly. When disease and death are perceived as the enemy we wage a constant war upon them in our own bodies and minds. Our very life becomes a battleground, against an enemy that will always win eventually. A time such as this forces us to consider our attitude towards death. Is it a demonic presence forever waiting in the wings to snatch away all that we love with a sweep of its mighty hand? Or is it the wisest teacher worthy of respect, who frames a life and gives it meaning? Pluto’s conjunction with Jupiter throughout the rest of this year provides us an opportunity to reflect deeply on our mortality. Not because we’re all doomed, but because if we don’t we may well be not so far down the line! If the mass sublimation of our death-fear continues to manifest as an on-going subjugation of nature to prove our immortal superiority, our morbid dread of death will ironically hasten our collective demise.

The beginning of the end or a fresh start?

Which brings me back to that longer-term overview I mentioned. Where are we going from here? Is this the beginning of the end or an opportunity to forge a fresh start? Have we arrived so rapidly in our new reality that shaping how it develops is beyond our capabilities? What can we do when confined to our homes?! Must we simply hunker down and hope for the best, trying to resist the growing despair that’s settling upon many as the reality of our brave new world begins to sink in? Or do we use this time to wake up? To plan a path forward that looks nothing like the one that led us here in the first place…

It’s fair to say the next few months will test us. Lockdown and other manifestations of virus-related anxiety will be with us for some time to come. An ease in June/July 2020 as Jupiter and Pluto conjunct for the second time whilst retrograde may well coincide with a lessening of the panic, followed by an increase once more from the end of September / beginning of October as they both turn direct. When they conjunct for the last time inmid-November their final say on the matter may not be particularly edifying. However, Saturn’s one-time conjunction with Jupiter in the first degree of Aquarius on 21stDecember presages yet another layer of this global conundrum. Aquarius is the sign of humanity and sister/brotherhood. Saturn – Lord of Karma – and Jupiter – the Great Benefic – joining hands here may well deliver some hope and greater context for what’s been going on. But not without affording us all the weighty responsibility of shifting our own sense of self, reality and perspective to accommodate newly revealed truths around this time.

Onward into 2021

A square between Saturn in Aquarius and Uranus in Taurus throughout 2021 will test our mettle in this regard. Do we resolve to do things differently on a global scale? Or do we resist the necessary changes and allow frustration over losing the past to rob us of a positive future? Do we embrace innovative ways to live in the wake of this crisis or turn to the ‘tried and tested’ methods that got us into this mess in the first place? This is the key challenge next year. Life (and business) cannot continue as before. And to the extent that it does, we will face far greater threats to our health and liberty before too long.

When Uranus and Saturn form a square we must act. There’s no avoiding it. This is us taking stock of our life after the hurricane has passed. The terrain may be changed beyond recognition and many of the landmarks we knew so well, gone forever. But this square provides the impetus and inspiration to begin afresh and move forward in a productive way. If we choose to.

This will apply as much in our private world as our public one. If you’re spending your lockdown dreaming of when things ‘get back to normal’, you may well be disappointed. A new normal is taking root and we must prepare to run with it when the time’s right. We’ll eventually return to a world unburdened of our pollution, released from the unrelenting impact of humanity for a considerable period of time. That world is already starting to flourish. We are part of it and can choose to flourish too or pollute it once more with our resentment and frustration over things lost. There will be grief of course, and for some people much of it. But grief allowed to flow doesn’t pollute. Only when it’s denied or blocked does it become stagnant resentment or entropic despair.

In essence, we are currently suspended in a state of global shock. When faced with a crisis, old trauma reawakens, building layer upon layer of emotion and pain. As such, we’re not simply processing the present, but all its ripples into our personal and collective past. All those unresolved times when the rug was ripped from beneath us and we were faced with situations we struggled to bear. This shock will need to dissipate through the collective energy field in the coming months. The more we can generate a calm and loving space to receive it the better, for we all have wounds to nurse and care to give in equal measure. This is how we gain the clarity to perceive what’s really going on and discern with wisdom and unflinching presence what truly needs to be done about it.

Waking up to our new reality

The North Node’s arrival in Gemini on 5th May 2020 reminds us to lighten up and allow in some fresh air. The sensitive emotionality of the North Node in Cancer since November 2018 gives way to thinking, not feeling, connecting with others not protecting our own. This nodal shift exhorts us to wake up to our new reality and live it, not avoid, detach from or fear it. It encourages us to look outside as much as within; to join together in a spirit of collaboration. New ideas will form that could not have been conceived before. As the impact of prolonged restriction begins to bite, this nodal shift gives us a positive boost and lifts us out of frustration and fear into fresh perspectives and an inquisitive attitude toward the potential of this strange new world.

Mars enters its own sign of Aries on 28th June, remaining there until the beginning of January 2021. This is a long time for Mars to remain in a sign, extended by virtue of its retrograde passage between 9th September and 14th November. Here Mars is a true warrior. But, focused intensely on its own needs, it struggles to consider those of others if it even bothers to try. Mars is our core life force which gets us out of bed each morning, puts food on our table, enforces our boundaries and protects our personal interests. Its journey through Aries may reveal a dark underbelly of selfishness if supply chains begin to struggle and anxiety about personal stability increases in the wake of loss of income and liberty. Anger and frustration may spill over. The most vulnerable will need a louder, more insistent voice. No one must be left behind nor deemed more important than another. Which is why the lighter touch of the Gemini North Node is important, with its focus on community well-being balancing the more self-centred drives of this time.

In a conjunction of Mars and Eris between August and December 2020 we face a significant challenge to stay the course in a balanced way. Refuse to allow a narrative of fear or frustration to demonise others. Use this energy to speak up for people and protect their rights alongside your own. Take a stand in the interests of community cohesion not individual protection. Beware narratives that divide at this time. Never forget we’re all in this together. Mars and Eris can be our most noble selves rising up to fight the good fight or our most base selves rising up to grab what we can from those who can’t fight back. Greed may be exposed and selfishness rife. But both are a choice that we don’t have to make. Mars, God of War, and his sister Eris, Goddess of Discord, are capable of much mischief, but when aligned with the greater good they become a formidable force of courageous protection and fearless naming of truths denied.

Sovereignty and control

Fear has been a great leveller in this process. From royalty to the street homeless, we are told, all are at risk and none immune. Motivated by it, previously unimaginable curtailments of civil liberties have been imposed and accepted, largely without question. As Jupiter conjuncts Saturn in December 2020 that may begin to change, for Jupiter affords us a bigger perspective, a broader view and instils within us a lust for the future. If the future looks too constrained at this point people may begin getting very itchy feet! And if authorities seek to over-extend virus-related powers into 2021 under the gaze of the aforementioned Saturn/Uranus square, they may be surprised at the strength of feeling amongst the people. In its shadow face, Saturn in Aquarius seeks to control (Saturn) the masses (Aquarius). It fears individuality and self-determination, moving to curtail it. Uranus, on the other hand, insists upon freedom at any cost and in Taurus is unrelenting in that demand!

As such, the issue of control – Who has it? How do they use it? How do we behave when we lose it? Who do we give it up to and why?– is as fundamental to this time as any other. It’s easy to lose connection with your sovereign self when confined to barracks and fearful of what lurks ‘out there’. But our innate sovereignty isn’t diminished by circumstances, whatever they may be. And the core task of living doesn’t change. We are here to awaken. Pure and simple. To reclaim the Self and offer it up in service of Life. We can do that wherever we are, whoever we are and whatever’s happening around us.

Nothing and no one can steal our wisdom or curtail our growing awareness. If increasing numbers dedicate this unprecedented time to knowing the true Self more deeply, just think how different our future can be! How bold and bright and beautiful. Like an embodied evolutionary leap we could emerge anew, understanding profoundly how we arrived here and how to ensure we never return again, before embarking upon our next adventure. Together.

Sarah Varcas

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whattaylormademedo · 5 years

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Please read the latest post on my GoFundMe. This is THE WORST time to need medical care for a progressive and horrid illness.

I am mostly paralyzed for the 4th day in a row now. My hands are working right now and my body hasn’t shut down and knocked me out uncontrollably from the exhaustion of paralyzing, extreme, charlie-horse-like muscle spasms (like it’s been doing Friday, Saturday, and today, Sunday) although I’m still lightheaded from the ceaseless pain. Here is a link and I will transcribe the update my mom wrote:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/HelpMadelineShanley?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link-tip&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet

Transcription from my Mom:

“Hi Family and Friends,

Madeline’s doctor will no longer be able to come to the house for her appointments because of the Covid-19 coronavirus outbreak. We still have no transportation for her, so she will not be seen until they are able to begin telemedicine sometime in the future. We are hopeful that her nurse will still be able to come to the house to do her lifesaving treatments 2 days every two weeks. We are hopeful that we won’t have disruption in our ability to get this vital IVIG medication for her as well as all of the other medications that she must have. She will not have the needed surgery on her feet that we have been trying to get for her, so we must just try to keep infection at bay until all of this is over. These are the realities that we now must add to our battle.

Madeline is still fighting for her health. Occasionally we have a day when she is able to sit up in bed and stand with much support. But, she is still battling the constant, painful muscle contractions of Stiff Person Syndrome. It is hard for us to wrap our heads around fighting SPS AND going through a pandemic. We are hopeful and we need to keep moving forward.

We don’t know what the future holds. Hopefully, the disruptions to people’s lives will be minimal and focused on trying to keep everyone healthy. Hopefully, you all will be safe and have what you need to care for yourselves and your family. Please think of our family as we battle for Madeline’s life in the realities of a world fighting a new and fast-spreading virus. Please send Madeline any messages of support or kindness. Please consider sharing our story and GoFundMe. We need all the help we can get. Thank you.”

From me: I am trying to hold onto hope, but like in ‘Haunted‘ (which is how I feel now) it feels like “something keeps me holding onto nothing.” If you can, instead please send me messages of hope and encouragement. I don’t have much hope right now. Even PMs would mean a lot. THE MOST HELPFUL THING YOU CAN DO IS DONATE TO MY GOFUNDME. SHARE IT IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO DONATE. PLEASE HELP ME AND MY FAMILY TRY TO SAVE MY LIFE.

I’m heartbroken that this might push back the Lover Tour shows, especially Lover Tour East, which was my biggest motivator. It’s nobody’s fault, and I understand it’s dangerous to have a gathering that large during a pandemic like this. It’s just something I’m scared that even if it is rescheduled, I might not have the treatments I need or the resources I’d need to get to those treatments and be alive for them. I know without the treatments, I will rapidly lose my ability to move, speak, or communicate (I’ll still feel the pain, have all my mental faculties, and be fully aware of what’s happening to my body. I’ll likely be blind because my eyelids tend to spasm closed, but sometimes they spasm open and prevents me from sleeping, but I likely won’t have control of my eye muscles anyways. That’s UNLESS I get treatment and have way to get to it).

My GoFundMe, run by my parents, is the bare minimum of my needs. It covers 18 months of medication, costs to purchase and modify a van for wheelchair use, and costs to modify my electric wheelchair so I can use it and get to my treatments when I need to (the electric wheelchair was generously donated by a kind widower whose wife unfortunately passed before she could take it out of the box. Bless her soul and may she be at peace).

The GoFundMe doesn’t cover costs for the secondary needs, like the caregivers I qualify for, programs for my computer to make doctor notes for the one telecommunication visit I’ll have per month with a doctor as I get worse and worse, braces to keep my body from breaking itself, and anything to use as an artistic outlet that I can do with caregiver assistance and my limited mobility (distracting me helps because I watch in horror as life as I knew it has changed in every way possible. In a year and under 3 months, I went from being able-bodied, living on my own in college, and walking to not being able to roll over in my home hospital bed by myself and in constant, agonizingly painful, physically paralyzing, muscle spasms throughout my entire body, that shifts hour by hour. In that same time, I went from expecting the future I worked at since I was 9: being a future CEO, living on my own, working for a company as I grew my own start-up, eventually letting that go off the ground and profiting, now to a future of hoping I survive each month, each treatment, and hoping with what hope I have left to get mobility so I can go to my doctors and treatments someday).

I fear when the ingrown toenails (there are several but there’s two separate ones on the same inner side of my left big toe) grow out and touch each other. It’s inevitable without immediate surgery. They’re less than half a centimeter apart and I don’t know exactly how much that will hurt. It will hurt quite a lot, though, and I won’t get treatment for them for a long time. As TSwift sang in ‘The Archer,’ “the luck of the draw only draws the unlucky.” With a disease as rare as mine, Stiff Person Syndrome (Aka SPS) and in a time like nothing I’ve never known, I sure do feel unlucky.

Without this disease, I’d be out there, buying supplies with the money I earned from the job (that I couldn’t start because of my SPS), driving (which I’ll never be able to do) to people’s doorsteps and delivering necessary food and supplies. I’d risk my life, likely staying in an isolated location to protect my loved ones.

But instead, I have SPS. I’m stuck here in this home hospital bed, paralyzed and in pain. I’m helpless and not able to be helpful. As someone who cares about other people far more than my own self, it’s its own kind of torture to be physically unable to help members of my community.

I hope you all are safe and I beg of you to give me any reason to hope. Any PM, donation to the GoFundMe my parents run for me, or share of that GoFundMe would mean a lot. Thank you for reading. I wish everyone and their loved ones health, happiness, and fulfillment.

💔Madeline

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legionmaster001 · 5 years

Text

My second and maybe, just maybe last post, as editing in the Tmblur app is still hell. This one still goes for @bl00dalchemist’s characters, wich I love and owe a ton of inspiration.

I insist that this is not the kind of story that fits with them. However, I seriusly need to do this right, for the demons, for the bastard himself.

Again, I hope you all enjoy it.

The Black Death

“A dense mist engulfed the portuary town of Sicily as a dirty withe chariot aproached from the Northside one fatidic morning of October. The horses that pulled it looked sick, with their whinny resounding through the souls of those who first saw them like the pleads of a dying men, the rhymt of their gallop confessed the bad omens they carried in tounges that no one could speak. The sun wasn’t coming out that day, as even it cowered to the darkness that acompained the chariot.

—Aye! Aye! —exclaimed the charioteer, coughing and whipping his horses with his famelic arms and an old wip.

The mist stopped as the chariot did, like if it were a simple passanger itself. Near the entrance of the town, under the few houses that went to the end of the town and a sign of putrefacted wood and worn out letters, the real passager got out, saying not a single word to the poor looking driver before giving him a fist of herbs and a small sheet of paper.

—I owe you my life, sir —claimed the charioter, thankful and trustful.

—You shall pay me soon, then… —whispered the young man as he turned around, willing to travel what path was left to his destination on foot.

Only the sound of footsteps and the clicking sound of a wooden cane could be heard, as the townsfolk that stayed in their homes and businesses observed the withe haired but young foreigner with suspicion and intrigue. The man, with his black clothes, stiff cane and leather bag, never stared back. He was the doctor that the town needed, and he wasn’t in humor to humilliate the peasants that day.

—Maybe it’s too late… —Wondered the Doctor, scratching his withe beard.

Almost running through the streets he directed himslef to the city’s port, guided by no one. Promptly he arrived to the dock, where rotting carcasses of the hanged still moored with rope around their necks. Ships of all sizes slowly swung, exhibiting like the corpses of the condemned. But the one that was supposed to soon touch land was an emissary of death was about unload a terrible charge; a Plague.

His superiors had heard about it long before, and terrified predicted a wave of death and decay so great that it might as well be the end of all men. A disease so terrible that made the greatest Imperium of the world quail, that cared not about the children of god, killing everyone in its path, and transformed the deserts of the East in black seas, making all the Crusades look like a simple bar fight, and leaving piles upon piles of corpses, tall enough to cover the light of the morning sun.

—He is here!

—It can’t be.

—Just in the right moment.

The people that had gathered among the docks welcomed the Doctor with most expectation and joy. The strange man was a light of hope in their eyes, as the dim light of the early sun was completely covered by the mist of the morning, that with the help of the cloud that the Doctor carried, claimed the town for themselves.

—What is happening here, my friend? —Asked the Doctor to the nearest man, putting his best smile. However, fear started to grow inside him as he realized that he already knew what was the problem.

—Ships came, the mariners look so sick, we’d never seen something like that! —Answered the man with nothing but fear in his eyes.

The Doctor walked to the sick mariners, seemingly calm, with only a few corageous enough and the constant feeling of having the spirits of the hanged swirling in the mist, to accompany him. Dead flesh by fingers and tumors as big as apples adorning their necks; the mariners had what was soon to be known as the Black Death. Such sight deeply affected the Doctor, that feared they wouldn’t survive enough to be played with, and make the townsfolk help them arrive to a church. He had more important things to do in the main ship, and as so, giving the excuse of finding a cause to such an horrible illness, he went alone. The folk cheered such an heroic behavior, for the Doctor was about to enter the guts of the beast.

He wandered to the insides of the ship, slowly revealing his nature: skin gray as ashes of the dead, theet and claws sharp and short as daggers to eviscerate, a tail that moved elegantly over the ground, and horns long and curved in a beautiful but simple way, with black ends. The demon Doctor finally was free, as he both rejoiced and shivered at the results of the Black Death; mariners abandoned still alive, drowning in their own vomited blood, corpses filled to the brim with tumors, and at the end of it all, a rotten, destroyed last corpse of what seemed to be a rather small and young man roughly dressed as a Eastern Companion Lady. It was of a unnatural pinkish color, from hair to inners, including the skin. It’s odor was strangely sweet.

—Not even the rats would claim this one… —Said the Doctor, poking the rotten corpse with his cane, not impressed with the weirdness of the body. A expression of disgust was on his face.

—But you can, it’s not that expensive —answered the supposed corpse in a sweet tone, or at least the sweetest it could do with its vocal cords so damaged.

—What in the bloody name of lord Baal…?

The now somewhat alive youngster extended a tounge like a venomous serpent, wich slowly coiled around the Doctor’s cane in a unsuccessful attempt to look somewhat provocative. The Doctor looked at him with mistrust, as he didn’t want another demon on his lands, even less one that could put in risk his entire career. But something called the attention of the Doctor: the young, rotten, blighted and lustful demon had glittering eyes with a strange beauty on them. The Doctor stared at them, almost forggoting for what he was there. Something was deeply wrong with its irregular and dead green iris and yellow sclera, but it wasn’t any kind of magic.

—Who the hell are you and what is your business here? —Asked the Doctor as politely as his word enabled him to be, snapping out of his trance and pulling his cane out of the mouth of the living corpse, ripping its tounge— I just cleaned this thing…

—My name is Gillian, and I am a humble Satan’s servant like you —said Gillian after he grew another tounge— born in holy land like you, ended up in the west, where Lord Belcebub gave me his most recent toy. Really not my type, but kinky, I must admit.

—Go to the point —The Doctor was quickly losing his scarce patience.

—Whatever you say, big boy. I was taken by those called Mongols in an invasion, they used me and threw me to the walls of a city —Gillian stopped to whisper, curses or compliments, it didn’t matter to the Doctor —, and I came with the merchants that ran from the war, and here you have me. So, do you want me to…?

The Doctor interrupted Gillian, tapping the wooden planks with his cane. The smug and peaceful expression with wich he entered the ship was again in his face. He Scratched his beard again, meditating about the situation. Before speaking he put on a small pair of reading glasses.

—I want you to leave. Now! —Shouted the Doctor, clearly mad. Fur od the same grey of his skin slowly spreaded around his body as it grew taller and demonic in form— I can’t afford to lose all my potential patients because of your pestilence!

The horns of the Doctor were about to break the ceiling when a flame materialized between them, taking the form of a shining crown.

—You don’t sound like a doctor at all —said Gillian, carefree and rather relaxed, almost like if he enjoyed the anger proyected at him, and unable to see.

—I am, but I have no enough hands, nor patience to amputate all this people, it wouldn’t even be fun anymore —The Doctor turned around, ready to leave. The boy didn’t whort the risk of beign discovered that soon— I am not the only one that will get damaged by this situation, so is better if you swim back to the East.

—I will see what I can do, hotstuff, but, sure u’ don’t want some of this? —Gillian lifted his leg, showing off what was left of it before it fell, leaving nothing but a small pool of black mush.

—Never in my 1,369 years of life have I been so horrified…

—It is not the last time you’ll say that, I bet —Gillian chuckled.

Breathing deep the Doctor started to leave, thinking of ways to actually save some lifes before the plage started to get worse. His demonic form disipated with the mist of the outside, letting the sun light enter through the few holes in the ship and hit both demons.

—Anyway, before you leave, what is your name? —Asked Gillian, trying to slowly cralw.

—Kinto —Was the only answer.

Gillian stopped in his tracks, now looking at Kinto under the sun light, he knew the name, everyone did. Kinto was the demon that singlehandedly transformed part of the Holy Order of Knights of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem from loyal and godfearing warriors to an encrazed cult that practiced surgery on the child of the christian and muslim alike in the chaos of the damned cruzades, and the demon who made his golden earrings from the crosses of the Templar fallen heroes. All despite of being all but a warrior demon.

One last time Kinto looked behind, to see the pink son of the wither, angrier than ever, not for his actions and indiference, but because he felt a kind of warmth that no scream, bloody murder or great payment had given to him, all when looking at those rotten, glittering eyes.

In that cold morning Kinto, the cruel image of the sadism dressed as men of medicine, the corruption of those to swore protect, cure and save, met both the factor and the person that would end his current life, and forever change his eternal one, just like the world itself”.

Omfg I realized how many errors of all kinds I commited. I am so sorry. I don’t feel like a Fan anymore.

For those to made it to the end despite it beign just a slightly improved version; a trillion thanks.

#Oh yes #Open path #I came inspired today Charley

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verdigrisprowl · 6 years

Text

Dance Battle In Dancitron

We had a more clever name but I forgot it.

Prowl and Soundwave’s deployers try to heal Whirl of his sparkeater infection before it can totally take over him.

They don’t quite succeed.

(This actually happened like three weeks ago)

Soundwave

Rumble and the others are busy with the last of the preparations. Frenzy is double checking the speakers secured to the wall to make sure they wont shake off their mounts. Buzzsaw's tinkering with the last of the rewiring, while Laserbeak programs the systems to produce the cure. Rumble's got the job of shifting all the furniture out of the way while Ravage secures all the cubes and glasses behind the bar so they won't crash against each other and shatter. They all know just what the sound system Soundwave installed can really do when pushed, and it's not a pretty picture. It's not supposed to be. Wouldn't be part of his security measures if it was.

//This better work.//

\IT'S GONNA WORK.\

//You don't know that!// Rumble snapped, slamming down the couch he'd been toting. //Quit fraggin' around. Whirl could die!//

\YEAH, I DO - CAUSE IF IT DON'T, I'M GONNA DRILL A HOLE IN THE DOC'S HEAD.\

//I dunno. Soon, I hope. Can't fraggin' stand this waitin'...//

Prowl

When Prowl stepped through the bridge, he was surprised at how many of the deployers has turned out to help. He'd expected Rumble, possibly Frenzy, MAYBE Ravage to supervise any work that needed to be done. Buzzsaw was a surprise. Laserbeak was a bigger surprise.

But they were pleasant surprises, so he didn't let them slow him down. "Whirl's coming through after me. Don't panic, he looks bad, but so far he's still under his own control." Key words: so far. "How can I help set up?"

Soundwave

The only ones who didn't were the two still running the cameras and comms to watch for news of more multiversal protoform appearances - and don't think Zori didn't do his best to beg to be allowed to help. Whirl had been kind to him on many occasions. As for Buzzsaw and Laserbeak, well... Soundwave wasn't the only one who knew how to blackmail others into getting what he wanted done.

//Prowl!// Rumble ran over. Laserbeak just blew a raspberry before going back to work. //You been to the Boss' apartment, right? Seen them long fraggin' chains? I ain't had time to get any of 'em. Think ya could snag, like... three? Jus' pop 'em off. We'll fix 'em later.//

Whirl

At the tail end of Rumble’s directions, Whirl came through the bridge, drawing up behind Prowl’s holoform. He let go of his head and looked around in quick, darting little motions, taking in the scene with caution and a faint surprise. He, too, hadn’t expected to see so many deployers out in the open—not because he didn’t think they would help, but because he’d assumed they’d have gotten clear. Then again, this had all happened remarkably fast.

Each one of them was another reason to hold things together. Whirl hunched up, lowering his head again and trying to concentrate on staying present and in the moment. The four feelers were still writhing, and now the graspers at the ends were occasionally opening and closing or dragging across the floor like nails against a chalkboard.

“Still here,” he rasped, waving a claw, “where d’you need me?”

Prowl

"Bondage chains, got it." He closed the bridge behind Whirl, and said to both him and the general room, "Comm me if anything goes wrong."

His avatar shut off.

Soundwave

Rumble was in the middle of directing Whirl over to the speakers, trying not to look at or worry about the feelers poking out of his back - things like that looked fine coming off the Boss, but all kinds of wrong on Whirl - when Prowl blurted out the contents of Soundwave's apartment and made him choke on his own words. An even louder blat came from behind the DJ booth.

He dragged both hands down his face and groaned. Did he really have to give everyone those mental images?

Rumble shook his head and kept moving. //C'mon. Over here.// Primus, he wished he could offer something more comforting. A punch in the shoulder, even.

Whirl

Whirl followed, pausing only to give a soft, hissing short from his vents—a sound that might seem a little alarming at first, but it was something like a laugh. “Now I’ve gotta make it,” he said flatly. Talking helped. Talking made him focus. He had to keep talking. “Because I can’t let your Boss live that one down.”

Whirl grasped mentally for something else to say. “Headache’s... getting better,” he muttered, “hope that’s--” A good sign, he finished mentally. Outwardly, his vocalizer just cut off with a click. Whirl’s eye snapped open, and for a moment genuine fear lashed out of his tightly-wound field—but if he could feel fear, he was still him. Whirl was aware of a gradual, slowly-burgeoning rush of awareness, as if his senses were all kicking into overdrive. The myriad smells of Dancitron seemed richer, and the constant signals from his sonar felt as if they were creeping across every speck of dust and every slight scratch in the floor.

His feelers had stopped squirming. It felt a lot like that dreaded moment before one knew they were going to vomit: that horrible certainty was clenched in the back of his mind. Whirl backpedaled frantically, putting as much distance between himself and Rumble, and strangled glitchy, stuttery words from his vocalizer. “Rumble—get away. Get back!”

Soundwave

//Least I ain't the one said it this time,// he mumbled, just before everything went Wrong. That kind of emotion wasn't one he was accustomed to feeling coming off someone like Whirl, and for that reason, it wasted no time inspiring something similar in him as well. They all had Soundwave's memories of what he'd done the one time he was subjected to a similar illness. If Whirl was legitimately afraid at a time like this... //...Whirl? Are you--//

\HE'S GOIN',\ Frenzy screamed, charging his brother and scooping him up by the waist. \SCATTER!\

=Second floor! Seal the stairs!= Ravage bristled and leaped onto the bar, charging his weaponry. With Soundwave gone, he was now the first line of defense while the others escaped. =Go!=

They wasted no time doing precisely that, leaving him to snarl and hiss as he crept toward the door himself, optics never leaving Whirl for a moment. Where in the PIT was that damned cop? If he didn't answer this comm--

Prowl

That damned cop answered by immediately reappearing in the club. First pass of the room: everyone was gone but Whirl and Ravage, Ravage was in a combat position. "Sitrep! What happened?"

Second pass of the room: Prowl looked again at Whirl—and even he could tell from his body language that something was horribly wrong. "... Got it." A tiny space bridge opened at head height, and dropped a couple of chains that Prowl caught over one arm. He hadn't had time to unlatch a third.

He opened up a short-range comm to the whole club: «Somebody tell me what I need to do to blast the cure, and somebody else bridge the spark signal generator downstairs.» Prowl didn't know if this particular disease actually made the infected pursue sparks, but if it did then Prowl was the only one who wouldn't be targeted when he was the only one who could afford to be targeted. With a generator that could be adjusted to project multiple sparks, he was perfect bait.

Whirl

Whirl didn’t even look up as prowl returned. He was hunched over and trembling, once again clutching his head with both claws, but it wasn’t because of pain, this time. His thoughts were spiraling away, almost as if he were falling asleep, or passing out, but without the accompanying drowsiness. That blank absence of thought was devouring his mind, and the last, brief moment of lucidity that Whirl had left was spent in frantic horror and deep, spark-wrenching fear—

—and then the fear was gone.

His claws snapped open and he released his head, straightening out of his hunched position. The shaking had stopped. Whirl turned, swiveling his helm about, and in the next instant his sonar kicked back in, this time so intense that it was an audible, shrill ululating noise, like a chorus of bugs singing softly. The reason for this would be clear as soon as his head swung around to face Ravage or Prowl: his optic was not visible. It didn’t seem to have burst, but somehow, there were only shadows under his helm.

Whirl’s feelers were also tap-tapping the floor questioning as he began to move. He looked directly at Ravage once, but, surprisingly, turned his head away. Not enough of a meal for a sparkeater of his size, apparently. Not worth pursuing unless he got desperate.

And, unless Prowl got that spark generator down there in a hurry, he would very quickly grow desperate.

((for reference re: the dancitron beat down, the noise whirl is making is basically this. Speed it to 2x and that's the noise!))

youtube

Soundwave

//Spark signal generator, got it. Chimera, get on it. Listen, mech, you gotta keep him here. We got 300 mechs livin' in them houses out back. He gets out 'n they're gonna be a fraggin' buffet! // Another tiny bridge popped open over the bar and deposited the generator at Ravage's paws. He batted it toward Prowl and leaped up into the bridge, clawing his way up the tunnel to safety.

There was a brief scuffle and the sound of muffled shouting behind the door of the stairwell, after which something thumped into it and screeched in fear. Of all the deployers to respond to Prowl's demands a moment later...

{{Button on Soundwave's booth,}} Laserbeak babbled, all her fake cuteness evaporated in the face of the current threat. {{It's purple. Has a 3 on it. I finished programming. You have to push it.}}

((a cybertronian version of something like this))

Prowl

«He's not going anywhere. Plan E is a dozen empty planets I can bridge him to if things go wrong.»

He scooped the projector up—conveniently putting himself between Whirl and the stairwell—gaze never wavering from Whirl. He scaled up his avatar to thirty-five feet, popped open his hood a crack, cranked up the generator up to some random number of spark signals—he didn't bother to check—dropped it into his chest, slammed the hood, and braced himself for an attack.

As he braced, his human avatar appeared behind the console in Soundwave's booth, also scaled up to twenty-five feet—he was going to have a hell of a headache after this—and searched desperately for—aha! Button! He slammed it.

Speaking of headaches—he should have turned off audio input. Both avatars slammed their hands over their audials/ears.

Whirl

The spark generator had the desired effect. Whirl’s attention snapped to the signal. He straightened. For a moment there was a dim glow, a flickering light: Whirl’s optic, but dramatically recessed, in a way that was wholly unnatural. It flickered once more and vanished again as Whirl crouched. Aside from the hum of his sonar, he was completely, utterly silent: no hissing or screeching, nothing.

In that same silence, he lunged for Prowl, tentacles whipcracking forward and grasping hungrily for the Cybertronian in front of him. He’d nearly made contact when the speakers blasted the air with sound so tremendous that it hit Whirl like a physical blow, stunning him and fouling his sonar, which faltered and died. For a moment he stumbled, stunned, but he rallied quickly, raising his head. His optic was visible again. It fixed itself on Prowl, who was still reeling with pain.

Whirl leaped again, the graspers on his tentacles latching onto the holoform’s legs and yanking him forward, knocking him flat on his back. His other two feelers arched forward and pushed against Prowl’s shoulders, holding him down while Whirl closed the final distance, landing with his legs on either side of Prowl. He didn’t immediately attack his prey, though, instead forcing his weight down through his tentacles while he arched his neck. A soft, gurgling, grinding noise rose from his throat, likely inaudible over the racket. His optic once more sank back and disappeared, and it was clear in that moment that Whirl had swallowed it.

Then his helmet shifted oddly. Four thin seams wound themselves down the length of his helm, widening, parting slowly. His head split open four different ways, peeling apart in an almost leisurely fashion, while teeth flexed from his plating like a cat’s unsheathed claws. Whirl drew back once more before he plunged forward, attempting to rip through the holoform’s chest with tearing, grasping motions of his gaping, toothy maw.

((from here))

Soundwave

After helping to cure another universe's Lost Light, Soundwave had slept for the better part of a whole day in a mysterious makeshift medbay, then fled to his apartment to continue recharging in a safer and more peaceful environment. He'd been unconscious since then - until now. Now, groggy and rested just enough to remember that he'd promised to send Prowl constant updates, he decided to honor that promise by comming Prowl while he sorted the mass of messages that'd piled up into things he probably needed to read as soon as possible and things that could wait until he'd had time to refuel and become properly alert to the world.

(txt): Status: Alive, intact.

Mostly. He wouldn't be sure until he had Frenzy scan him, but none of his diagnostic programs were returning any problems with his internals.

(txt): Lost light: cured. Soundwave apologizes; cure: concussive, Soundwave: exhausted. Accidental recharge. Intent: bridge home, compile report, resume protoform surveillance duty.

Prowl

Prowl had barely managed to turn down his audials when suddenly his feet were jerked out from under him. He crashed hard on his back, and barely managed to raise his hands in time to shield the upper half of his torso when Whirl pounced on him.

But he stopped.

He was pinning Prowl, but he wasn't moving. Prowl could see from two different angles that Whirl was just sitting on him. Had it worked? Had the cure finally cut through? Were his senses coming back to him?

And then he swallowed his own optic. Both of Prowl's jaws dropped in horror. When his head ripped apart—oh Primus, this really is going to kill Whirl—the avatar pinned under him screamed hoarsely, inaudible under the speaker roar.

Which was the exact moment Soundwave chose to comm.

Never had Prowl been so relieved and so terrified at the same time. Alive, intact—oh, thank Primus—but if he came home—

Prowl raised his arms over his chest, shielding the spark signal generator with them. Each time the gaping maw that used to be Whirl's head crunched down on the false metal, it crumpled and tore, only to immediately reform each time the sparkeater tried to adjust its bite pattern. « DON'T COME HOME!» His voice was barely audible over the roar of the unsuccessful cure. «DON'T COME HOME! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!»

Soundwave

There were two things Prowl had yet to learn about Soundwave, and they were: A) Soundwave thought turning other mechs' dead and hollowed heads into puppets was a fantastic pastime as long as Prowl was neither in the vicinity at the time nor in a position to hear about it, and, B) Soundwave could be granted eternal life and he would never, ever once look at an inbox filled with deployer messages flagged Maximum Urgency, hear chaos in the background, be ordered not to come home, and actually obey said demand.

He was opening and actually running through the bridge before Prowl finished repeating his first three words, spark lodged firmly in his throat and held tight by its inner jaws. There was a Vos on that ship, wasn't there? Did he find out? Had the DJD gone there to look for him? Was the music meant to drown out Tarn's voice? Please, Primus. He tried to keep his requests to a minimum these days, but if there was any mercy left in the world, let him not get there to find Prowl and his deployers in their filthy clutches.

What he saw on the other side could only be termed a relief in the same sense a mech who'd nearly died on a battlefield would feel upon being told he could manage to survive as a severed head on a hoversled. Soundwave was not as brave as half of his deployers, and never would be, outside of isolated incidents centering around their immediate safety. He froze, staring at the scene, his tired brain module unable to process the sight in front of him and come up with anything more useful than the desire to rush toward Prowl - which was no good, as it also wouldn't let him move his legs to do it, suddenly deciding that now was the appropriate moment to listen to what Prowl had said.

Whirl

Whirl’s four jaws remained clamped in place on one of Prowl's arms, his teeth flexing inwards to get a better grip, and he shook his head back and forth, trying unsuccessfully to maul his way towards the generator. He tugged a few more times, frustrated, before he released Prowl and drew back. His neck arched oddly again, and Whirl’s helm sealed partially back up, just enough to extrude his optic out of his throat, casting a dim golden glow on his restlessly extending-and-contracting teeth. They scraped together like slithering, sharp fingertips as Whirl stared, puzzled, at the mech underneath him.

Then he started to dig with both claws in a motion reminiscent of a dog going after a bone: a furious, repetitive motion. Whirl could no longer think beyond the level of instinct, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, fathom why he couldn’t just crack this mech open to get to the good part. His jaws flared open again and he latched onto the holoform’s chest, twisting and scrabbling inelegantly for the spark he sensed just beyond his reach.

At around that time, a green glow alerted him that something unusual was happening out on the dance floor. Whirl raised his head, splayed jaws flexing partially closed as he extruded his optic once more. He could barely see, but he didn’t need perfect vision to register what was standing in front of him. Prey. The mech standing there was smaller, brighter inside, an easier kill, a better meal—hunger surged up through Whirl’s chest, cutting off the train of primitive thought. His tentacles released Prowl in a single, synchronous motion that flowed smoothly into a crouch, and a silent forward lunge towards Soundwave.

Prowl

This time, when Whirl paused and pulled back to look at him, Prowl was under no illusions that what looked at him was anything but a sparkeater. Prowl tried to keep his arms under its claws, but they were scraped aside and exposed his bumper. If the sparkeater chewed through him enough to get at the spark generator and destroy it, that was the end of Prowl's use as bait. He braced his hands, one against the sparkeater's chest and the other against one peeled open flap of its head, trying to hold it back just a little bit longer, and froze his avatar there so he could turn his attention to the other. Was there anything he could do with the cure? Could he turn the volume up, something??

A bridge opened. Prowl's focus snapped back into his main avatar, and he turned to face Soundwave simultaneously with the sparkeater. Oh, god no. Please no. Soundwave had just blasted a cure somewhere else, he was already exhausted— "RUN!"

When the sparkeater let go of Prowl, Prowl latched on, trying to fling his arms around its waist and jerk sideways to knock it off course. His main avatar switched to dead weight mode and his human avatar flickered off and back on in front of Soundwave, arms spread. It was a poor shield but if it bought Soundwave just a few seconds to get away—

Soundwave

Soundwave had seen and driven away all manner of Underworld monsters hunting near his home, but this? This was new. This wasn't just a hungry razor snake or a passing driller. This was a sparkeater, and he hadn't clapped optics on one since the massive hunt down below Cybertron's surface. Even the ones aboard the Lost Light had been locked away. And none of them - none of them - had looked like that. The sight of the grotesque, teeth-filled flower that had taken the place of Whirl's head latched onto Prowl's chest drove Soundwave back into the memory of Unicron's fangs lowering themselves over his own, chilling his spark as efficiently as if it'd been shoved into a cryo chamber.

Panic took the opportunity to seize him and shake him by the neck, whispering a half dozen other horrors into his audials. They went for the brightest, the strongest, the most sustaining. Soundwave's spark had been soaked in a Primal marinade, seasoned with fragments of six other mechs, and seared in the flames of battle with the Chaosbringer. If Rung was a nice steak dinner, Soundwave was a masterpiece cooked by a world-renowned chef at the peak of their skills. The thing that had been Whirl would die before it stopped coming after him. It would tear him open like paper and his last thoughts would be the feeling of its teeth scraping inside his frame and the sound of his deployers shrieking and dying in shared agony. He was doomed, they were doomed, and when it got outside and ran free--

Prowl's shout combined with barely audible frantic screaming from behind the stairwell door to break Soundwave out of his head and light his heels on fire. His own feelers shot toward the ceiling, punching into the panels and gripping tight; he jumped up to follow them, reeling himself upward, and dug his fingers in for added support. He had no idea if the sparkeater could transform, but if it could, that might give Prowl a few uninterrupted seconds to catch it. If not, he could at least remove himself from its reach.

Until his grip inevitably failed, that is. Prowl was right: Soundwave had recharged, but he was still too worn out to hold his own weight up for long.

Whirl

The sparkeater was far too focused on Soundwave to attempt to dodge, and Prowl’s desperate tackle hit home, dragging Whirl partway to a halt and nearly overbalancing him. The sparkeater shook himself, raising his head as Soundwave hauled himself out of harm's way. For a moment, he didn’t engage Prowl. He just stretched himself up, trying to track Soundwave’s progress. Prowl would feel a half-hearted burst of sonar hum briefly against his plating, but the riotous noise in the air kept it useless. If he sparkeater wanted to find Soundwave, he would need to look for him.

Whirl’s helm sealed up again, and since he was staring directly up a Soundwave, the other mech would witness the charming spectacle of Whirl regurgitating his own optic array out of his throat to try and get a visual on his prey. Once Soundwave was spotted, Whirl tilted his head and began to move, dragging Prowl’s avatar along. His body language was smooth, deliberate, wholly unlike Whirl’s usual birdlike jerkiness and rendered all the more alien and wrong by his bizarre anatomy. Whirl dragged them both a few steps forward, and swayed slightly from side to side as he crouched. He attempted to leap, but the weight on him was too much. He barely cleared the ground, tentacles snapping skyward and falling far short. Landing in a heap, the sparkeater was apparently finally annoyed enough to deal with his hanger-on directly, and he turned on Prowl with silent ferocity, latching onto his frame with all four of his tentacles and trying to pry him off and toss him away in one harsh, jerky movement.

He only succeeded in bowling them both over. The momentum sent the sparkeater tumbling in a fashion that might have been amusing in circumstances that were less abjectly horrifying, and though he remained completely silent, there was fury in Whirl’s body language when he pulled himself up again—and it evaporated when he suddenly stumbled. His legs shook in a way that suggested they might be about to give out on him, and he half-raised a claw, as if he were reaching for his head.

The leap-and-tumble has carried them further across the dance floor, and closer to the speakers.

The effect was noticeable, but transient. The sparkeater shook his head a few more times, and then the pause won by confusion was gone, and he was once again raising his half-split head to search the ceiling for Soundwave’s spark.

Prowl

Soundwave for Primussake that's NOT RUNNING. Open a bridge or something! How in the world is Prowl going to defend Soundwave and deal with Whirl at the same time? He needs to be in three places at once: at the DJ booth, in front of Soundwave, and grappling the sparkeater. He's barely handling two avatars as it is.

Still, he didn't let go of the sparkeater for a second, one arm plus chains tangled around its waist, the other arm wrapped around one of its shoulders. He was in too bad a position to wrestle it down and pin it; most of his hand-to-hand training encouraged disengaging, getting some distance, and moving back in when in a position this bad. That wasn't an option. If he did let go, it's only give the sparkeater a chance to lunge for Soundwave—and anyway, one of the chains had gotten tangled around the sparkeater's waist and leg. At least when they were tangled, the sparkeater couldn't advance. Now THINK, Prowl, new plan fast—none of the scenarios you ran calculations for accounted for having to protect Soundwave while you fought, you need something new! Maybe the situation was unsalvageable, maybe it was time to fall back to Plan E—

Despite Prowl's attempts to keep hold of the sparkeater, four coordinated tentacles and a tumble across the room was enough to shake him off, even tearing the tangled chain off his arm. He was getting to his feet before the gashes that the chain tore in his forearm had healed. Just in time to see Whirl stumble.

Prowl had seen the sparkeater stop to—whatever it was doing—recalibrate, maybe?—twice by now. This wasn't a recalibration. Something was throwing the sparkeater off. Prowl looked up at the speakers. They were vibrating so hard his HUD put a permanent trembling red outline around them. Okay. New plan. Plan H.

Prowl lunged at the sparkeater, wrapped his arms around him, and froze long enough to flicker his other avatar over and grab it from another angle. His avatars moving in jerking synchronized mirrored steps, Prowl pushed the sparkeater toward the speakers, ignoring the torn metal and bloody gashes it left in his avatar.

Even with his audials off, he could "hear" the speakers threatening to rattle apart his avatars. Cybertronian braced against the sparkeater and froze so human could take the extra chain, wrap it around one of the sparkeater's arms, and grab the chain tangled around its waist; human got behind the speaker, pulled the chains taut, and froze so Cybertronian could grab wildly at the tentacles, loop one around the sparkeater's other arm, and duck behind the speaker from the other direction to pull them taut.

Problem: he'd planned to transfers the chains and tentacles to the hands of one avatar so the other could return to the DJ booth, but he couldn't afford to let go with either. It was taking both of his avatars just to keep the chains from pulling out of his hands or the tentacles from wriggling free. Between bouncing his attention back and forth between avatars to constantly readjust his grips and the shaking of the speakers playing havoc with his HUD, he had no chance of turning on a third avatar. Okay. Plan H-2. A two-word text message to Soundwave: «DJ! VOLUME!»

Whirl

In those moments that he was free, the sparkeater had once again turned his attention upward. His initial reaction to Prowl’s avatars closing in on it was quite subdued. He shook his entire frame once, but he didn’t claw at the holoforms, or immediately turn on them. His optic remained pointed directly at Soundwave, at that spark that promised to fill the horrid raging hunger in his chest.

When they started to drag him away, though, he seemed to come to his senses somewhat. Whirl began to thrash in earnest, lashing out and focusing his wrath on the Cybertronian avatar. Rather than try and push him away, though, the sparkeater attacked, once again flaring his jaws and trying to latch onto Prowl’s chest. The sparkeater realized, too late, that it was being yanked into a trap, too focused on the sparks he could sense somewhere inside his closer prey; his unthinking, mindless hunger had given Prowl the precious few moments he’d needed to push Whirl up against the speaker.

At long last, he made a noise, though it was likely inaudible next to the all-encompassing, deafening roar that surrounded them: a high-pitched, shrieking keen of fury. He lashed out with his claws, his teeth, his tentacles, tearing into the implacable foe that was Prowl’s avatar before it locked his limbs down. The coordinated, unflinching determination effectively pinned Whirl in place against the speaker, and he arched, trying to bow his body away from the source of the sound. All attempt to attack stopped. The air itself shook violently, as if it were itself attacking the sparkeater. It felt as if it was shaking him apart, and now every ounce of the sparkeater’s ferocity was focused in getting away from it.

He was unable to immediately break Prowl’s hold, but Soundwave would have to act fast if he wanted to keep it that way.

Soundwave

Open a bridge? And let the damned creature break out to Primus-knows-where to eat Primus-knows-who!? Absolutely not! Soundwave stayed clasped to the ceiling, trying to ignore the numbness in his hands and claws as the speakers worked to shake him free.

He had no way of watching Prowl battle to push the sparkeater toward the speakers. The unpleasant feeling of pins and static had started traveling up his arms and feelers, making it difficult to tell just how tight his grip really was; he couldn't look away from them for more than a couple of seconds at a time or it started coming loose. His spines were of no use either. They'd been thoroughly overpowered by the strut-rattling vibrations shaking everything in the club and could only tell him what he already knew: much more of this and he'd pass out again, becoming an easy meal for the beast down below.

An unexpected text message popped up inside Soundwave's visor, crowded by internal alerts and building integrity alarms. He didn't waste a second, using his knowledge of his home to his advantage; both legs swung up to hook him into the nearest section of lighting truss by his ankles, freeing his arms and feelers at the cost of some height. He ripped the punctured ceiling panels loose with a sharp yank and twist, then threw them at the horrible shape over by the speakers as his world turned upside-down, hoping to batter the thing that'd stolen Whirl's body senseless and buy both Prowl and himself a few more precious seconds.

His feelers continued their arc, latching onto the DJ booth and scrabbling over the board in a desperate search for the volume controls - he never looked at the damn thing from this angle! - and upon finding it, shut his optics and twisted the dial as far as it would go - far, far beyond the recommended levels for normal use and deep into weaponization territory, just shy of becoming deadly to the average Cybertronian.

Nothing not bolted to the floor stayed upright. Even the stationary furniture rattled and shook, ripping up from the floor a millimeter at a time. Lighting structures swayed like tinfoil in a tornado and snapped, crashing to the ground. Glasses, bottles, and cubes shattered in their cabinets, as did the beautiful red front doors. Dance floor panels and lighting strips cracked. Stretched and strained wires popped and sparked, and the speakers themselves began to tear free of their braces, trembling and edging forward with Whirl still attached on the other side, threatening to tip over and crush him beneath their weight.

It would continue until it simply couldn't anymore, one speaker blowing with a majestic boom and fizzing out into static. Soundwave managed to turn the dial back down to 0 just in time to pass out, dangling upside down in mid-air from a half-collapsed truss, feelers limp on the floor.

Prowl

He was shaking so hard, the colors on his avatar weren't lining up right. Or was that his optics glitching? The noise felt like a physical roar that hurt as much as any sonic attack on his real body would have, and if Prowl hadn't been able to freeze his avatars, he would have long ago lost his ability to hold onto the sparkeater's restraints.

But even avatars had their limits. When the speaker blew out, they broke apart, dissolving into pixels.

His mind snapped back into his metal body, and he sat up with a shout. The sudden absence of pain and stimulation sucked at his senses like a vacuum; his HUD popped up an error message alerting him to the unexpected lack of error messages. He shook his head to clear it—how long had he been gone? six second? too long—and turned his Cybertronian avatar back on.

Nothing was shaking. He turned his audials back on, tripped over his dropped spark signal generator, and stumbled out from behind the speaker.

Everyone was down. "Soundwave? Whirl?" Sorry, Whirl—Prowl's aware that you're technically the patient, but his first priority is amica. He flickers to Soundwave's side and checks to make sure his chest is still in one piece.

Whirl

The same shattering crescendo of sound that tore through Dancitron tore through the sparkeater, rendering him instantly insensate. All he could do was sag in his bonds, head hanging, all struggling ceased. When the speaker gave out at last in a furious burst of shrapnel and dying sound, it sent Whirl hurtling forward away from it, crashing to the floor and coming to a stop somewhere in the rubble. He, too, had been knocked unconscious. Between Soundwave and Whirl, it was anyone’s guess who would wake first.

He didn’t respond to Prowl’s first call, but a few moments afterwards his crumpled form finally started to stir. The tentacles moved first, sliding sluggishly over one another to weakly pry off the debris that had landed directly on top of him. One of the feelers had been blasted clean off, and lay looped over the remains of some tables like a particularly ghoulish garland, dripping blood on the dance floor. Trembling with effort, Whirl began to push himself up, but his exhausted and disease-ravaged body had nothing left to give. He flopped back to the ground, as harmless and undignified as a beached fish.

He vented hard once, twice. “I’m here,” he managed to croak out. Whirl pushed again, trying to get his legs underneath him, but only managed to topple awkwardly sideways. He gave up. Whirl had landed facing Prowl and Soundwave this time, and decided that would be good enough. His optic seemed to be more or less in the right place at the moment, but it definitely looked askew in a way that suggested it wasn’t fully settled properly in his head. It didn’t, at present, seem to be in four pieces, but the internal structures under his helm were probably a shambles. “I’m me.”

It took him a moment to make sense of what he was seeing. Was Soundwave hanging upside-down? The full extent of the wreckage around him was very slowly penetrating the fog of confusion. The last few minutes were a blur in his mind, all strange, formless memories and remembrances of sharp sensations. As he stared, he realized that Soundwave wasn’t moving. Whirl genuinely didn’t know if he’d—when he wasn’t in control of himself, had he...?

Despite how often Whirl liked to remind everyone that he cared about absolutely nothing, and despite the healthy amount of hatred he truly possessed for the world around him, the thought that he might have killed Soundwave, a mech who had been among the first handful of mecha from various dimensions to treat him decently, simply because he thought Whirl deserved it, was deeply distressing. On top of that, if Soundwave had perished, his deployers...

“Is he okay?” he rasped, optic flicking from Prowl to Soundwave.

Prowl

Prowl's gaze shot over to the stirring sparkeater, and he stared at him, unmoving, waiting to see what he'd do next. If he made even one false move, Prowl didn't have a choice—he'd have to open a bridge under him and dump him on a barren planet. He couldn't afford to do otherwise. Prowl was in no condition to keep fighting, the speakers were out, and Soundwave was unconscious. They could leave Whirl to his own devices and come back for him later, once they had a plan. It had—ha—it had worked for Kup...

Whirl spoke. Prowl's shoulders sagged with relief. "Good. You're back." Wearily, he returned his gaze to Soundwave—and then did a double-take at Whirl. "You vomited your eye back up." Well, that was a good sign, wasn't it?

He looked back down and Soundwave. "I think so. His chest is all in one piece. He was already exhausted, he probably just fainted." Probably. All the same, he sent a ping to Frenzy—come back down and be a medic.

"... How are you?" Prowl looked dead at Whirl and said, without the slightest trace of humor, "I expect you have a splitting headache."

Soundwave

The stairwell door slid partway open, jammed, and got shoved the rest of the way open by a pair of small but powerful blue hands. Frenzy wobbled off the stairwell and into the open floor, covered in dents, dings, and paint scrapes. It looked as though all the deployers shared that new appearance, and it'd only take a moment's serious thought to figure out why: they'd still been down in the stairs when the final blast of noise started and turned them all into the helpless beads inside a rattle.

Buzzsaw slid off the top of the minicon pile, tried to hover, and went straight into the ground with a sickly groan, skidding a few feet before lightly bumping his head against the base of an overturned game table.

\I'M GETTIN' TO YOU THIRD,\ Frenzy mumbled, which meant keeping his voice to the raised level of someone who was getting angry instead of his usual scream. \HOLD YOUR WINGS.\

He made it over to Soundwave with only a few more stumbles and a single whoop of surprise as his foot sank through a cracked panel in the dance floor, took his visor off, and held it in front of a vent. It fogged, and he couldn't see anything else wrong on the surface level, so he shrugged and punched Soundwave in one big, flat shoulder. \WAKE! UP!\ he hollered, blasting Soundwave's audios with such noise he might as well have been one of the speakers.

Soundwave responded by popping online with a sudden flash of biolights and instinctively snatching Frenzy up in a feeler, holding him high off the ground and squeezing.

\BOSS! BOSS, LEMME - OOF - LEMME GO! IT'S ME! NOTHIN'S WRONG!\ Frenzy shouted, flailing. \LOOK! LOOK, PROWL'S HERE, 'N WHIRL'S FINE! SEE? UGH, PRIMUS, QUIT SQUEEZIN'!\

Soundwave promptly let him go and tried to twist around to see the other two before remembering that he'd tangled himself up in the truss. It took him a moment to regain enough coordination to get himself loose and standing up right again. He then decided that sitting was much, much easier and parked himself on a broken chair that'd fallen on its side.

[[Prowl?]] Prowl was a holoform. Right. He moved to rub his optics, meaning to clear away whatever was interfering with his vision, only to realize there was a neat spiderweb of cracks and touching the glass would probably make it crumble into pieces like the contents of the bar. [[Hm. ... Whirl. Is Whirl all right?]]

Whirl

“I what my what now?” Whirl asked, blinking slowly. “I’m all right. Be up in a second.” Whirl would, in fact, do no such thing; he wasn’t going to be walking for the rest of that day, and much of the next. Aside from the general fallout that accompanied a virulent sparkeater infection, Whirl needed time to recover from the cure. Prowl was right, though. His head was hurting quite badly.

“Yeah,” he went on, slowly, unsure, “I’ve…” Whirl raised his his head and felt the interior shift in a strange and horrifying way, as if everything inside of it had become untethered. “Something’s definitely wrong with my head,” he said flatly.

Under normal circumstances that specific situation would probably have upset Whirl significantly, but he was too physically and emotionally drained to even react. He’d passed through the point where he could be any more distressed, and instead just felt calm in a detached way. Honestly, it was a relief.

Seeing all of the minicons intact (if a little battered for the experience) was also a relief. Whirl snorted through his vents at Frenzy’s particular method of treating Soundwave's condition, as well as the accompanying aftermath when his carrier very suddenly woke up. He stirred again, trying to force himself up, pushing against the floor with one claw and his remaining tentacles while his free claw held his helm steady. Maybe he could get to a chair—the realization that he still had tentacles finally snapped through Whirl’s thoughts and he jerked, so startled that he dropped himself and flopped onto the floor again.

Whirl decided that neither the chair nor his dignity were worth it. He just shifted enough so that he could pillow the side of his head on a chunk of rubble, to rest it and watch the others at the same time. He curled one of the feelers out in front of him, examining the viciously serrated length and the grasper at the end. Snip-snip. Bizarre. Would they have to be removed…? “I’m here,” he said, straightening the feeler and waving it to Soundwave. The other mech’s aborted reach for his own visor hadn’t gone unnoticed. “I can close my eye, if you want.”

Whether or not his lack of delicacy had more to do with the fact that he was barely hanging onto coherence or more to do with Whirl just being Whirl was unclear. The statement was so out of context that Soundwave might not have even known what he was talking about. “Either way, I’m fine.”

Prowl

When Soundwave seized Frenzy, Prowl half-raised his arms and froze, no quite sure how or whether to intervene. Thankfully, the situation resolved itself before he had to decide. He followed Soundwave up when he stood, and sort of awkwardly continued standing nearby when Soundwave sat again. Sorry, Soundwave, your amica's hovering.

Prowl asked Frenzy, "Do you need help with Whirl? Or the others? I don't have much first aid training, but I can... fetch things. And take directions." As eager as he was to continue hovering around Soundwave, he knew that wasn't the most productive thing he could be doing.

And if nothing else, he could provide information that the other two probably were in no fit state to give. "Whirl's head peeled open. In four pieces. Like..." Prowl tried to pantomime the way it opened up with his hands, and completely and utterly failed to demonstrate anything close to comprehensible. "And he swallowed and spat up his optic a few times. So, you probably. Want to start there."

Soundwave

Of all the things Soundwave minds about the current situation, having his amica hovering nearby is not one of them. If anything, he's thankful for it, as evidenced by the brief curl and squeeze of a feeler around one of Prowl's ankles.

Frenzy squinted at Prowl's hands and scratched his head. Did the noise knock Prowl loopy? How could Whirl's head peel open into four pieces? It didn't have any seams to make that possible. And where would his optic go? ...Oh. Into his throat. All right, that was, uh - it sounded fake, but okay. If that was what Prowl said, that was probably what'd happened. Somehow.

\HERE,\ he said, pulling a medical scanner out of his forearm compartment and tossing it to Prowl. \GO SCAN THE OTHERS, FRONT 'N BACK. BIG GREEN BUTTON. THEN JUS' LOOK FOR BIG RED LINES 'N SPOTS 'N STUFF ON THEM PICTURES IT DOES. MEANS SCRAP AIN'T RIGHT INSIDE.\ He wasn't so worried about the outsides. That could be worked on later.

//Get outta my way!// Rumble snapped at Ravage and Chimera, pushing past them to get onto the main floor. His visor was gone, probably sitting in pieces on the stairs, and for some reason he had one red optic and one blue one. //Whirl! Where's -- Whirl?//

He got there before Frenzy, sliding the last few feet on his knees to avoid the feelers. He grabbed for one of Whirl's arms to hug it to himself. To the Pit with everyone watching; he wasn't gonna let dignity and his reputation as a tough bot get in the way of his relief. Anyway, the Boss had no room to talk, and neither did his brother.

//PRIMUS' YAWNIN' AFT SEAMS, MECH, I thought you was gonna DIE!// He clutched the arm tighter. A nervous laugh escaped his vocalizer. Bad jokes in times of stress was one of his better known coping mechanisms. //Listen - I know I ain't so good with words if I ain't writin' 'em down, so maybe you dunno I already missed ya real bad, but you ain't gotta go that far to find out.//

Frenzy pretended to gag as he crouched nearby to peer at Whirl's head.

Rumble straightened up and decked him.

Soundwave just sighed.

Whirl

Whirl watched Prowl’s hands, as well, and honestly, it left him with more questions than answers. He decided he just wasn’t going to worry about it. Let it be a problem for the doctors—that was their job, right? They could deal with any head-unfolding and optic-swallowing fallout that may or may not remain. On the heels of that thought, Rumble forced his way into the room, and was at Whirl’s side almost before Whirl could even greet him. He slowly raised his head as Rumble grabbed his arm, and listened to him with a wide, attentive optic.

Even hazy though his thoughts were, Whirl could very clearly remember the moment when he’d called Rumble up in the isolation ward, and the feeling hearing the determination in his voice had sparked. He’d known Rumble for years by that point. Objectively he knew that Rumble wouldn’t have made advances or promises if he didn’t intend to back them up, but knowing something as a fact and having that fact presented to you in reality could often be two very different things. It felt very different, there in the moment.

Before Whirl could say anything reflecting this, though, Rumble was punching his brother. Somehow, that made everything seem more normal. Whirl made a soft, staticky sound, almost like a chuckle. “We’ve had the worst damn luck with this,” he said. They hadn’t even had a chance to really be anything yet, between one disaster and another. All Rumble really had to say for this stage of their relationship was how much stress it had probably put him through, and still he’d been there. Was here. That was significant. Whirl wouldn’t be able to explain exactly how, but he knew it, all the same.

Gently, he tugged his arm free. Frenzy would have to wait to examine Whirl’s helm, because he shifted and stretched his neck to rest the side of his head against Rumble’s chest. He wasn’t coordinated enough to properly nuzzle, but the effort was there, and he was content enough to be close, for the moment. The close part was what mattered. “Thanks, Rumble. I’m not going anywhere, mech. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Which was followed, after a moment, by a quick, “Frenzy, your boss’s sound speakers just liquified basically all of me so don’t you dare give me guff about this right now.”

Prowl

Oh—they were being sappy. Sappy in front of other people. Just—out there, for everybody to see. Right, okay, time to go scan people. Scanning and not looking over at Whirl. They could at least pretend to have a little privacy.

He started on Soundwave, then Buzzsaw—Frenzy had said he was third—and then whichever minicons looked like they most needed it and/or were inclined to start insisting they needed it.

Soundwave

Sappy in front of other people? So complained the mech who'd been orbiting Soundwave like an unusually large moon for a few minutes there.

Prowl would find that Soundwave had a few plates out of alignment, but nothing much worse than that, seeing as he was actually designed to give off such noise himself. (He would also see a number of mysteries cleared up, such as how it was Soundwave could knock back all those cubes and what it looked like inside those ironing board arms of his, and get a solid look at all the mods and drives crammed tight into Soundwave's backpack. Soundwave had told the truth.)

Buzzsaw was in worse shape. Several delicate struts on the left side had been cracked or snapped and would need fixing, and one wing tip on the right had broken clean off. Laserbeak was mostly a case of heavy denting due to Rumble having her pinned to the wall with his hands when the shaking started. Zori was fine, if shaken senseless, but Ravage had a kinked tail feeler and a melted hole in one shoulder where the little scorpion's tail had accidentally poked him in the ruckus, and Chimera hadn't reactivated yet because one of their pieces had gone missing. (It'd soon be found when Ravage scratched at something irritating stuck between his hip weaponry and his flank.)

But back to the mech who'd recently suffered from a far worse malady.

Frenzy sat up with a groan and rubbed his cheek with the heel of his palm, glowering at his brother. \AFT.\ There was a patient to attend to, though, so he just turned back to Whirl instead of launching straight into a fight. \YEAH, YEAH. NO GUFF. TOTAL GUFFLESSNESS. ANTI-GUFFERY. JUS' QUIT SNUGGLIN' UP ON THE BLUE BLUNDER A SEC 'N LEMME SEE YER FRAGGIN' HEAD. HEARD SOMETHIN' RATTLIN' IN THERE. MIGHT BE YOU GOTTA LET SOMEBODY GET IN THERE 'N FIX IT.\

Rumble stared at him. Really? Gonna just talk about cracking his head open like that?

Frenzy shrugged. What? He knows, but it's the medical truth.

\...FEELERS'RE PRETTY WICKED, THOUGH. YOU OUGHTA KEEP 'EM. WORKS FOR THE BOSS.\

Whirl

“I refuse to quit snuggling,” Whirl rasped, pointing a feeler at Frenzy, “and if someone’s going to… to get in there and fix it it’s going to be after I’m knocked the hell out. So if you’ve got the sedatives for it, go on, but otherwise, I guess…” he sighed. “Better go back to the hospital.”

He hadn’t moved, true to his word, still resting the side of his head against Rumble’s chest. His optic closed tiredly. Honestly, it wouldn’t take many sedatives to knock him out, but if someone wanted to get him back to the hospital, he would need to be bridged or carried. “I mean… they’re useful. I guess.” His remaining tentacles curled, and Whirl followed the shape of them with his sonar. The claws at the end clicked. He could imagine the utility of having extra pairs of graspers would be, honestly, especially with delicate work, but… “Can’t transform with these ones, though. Write me up a report on why feelers would be useful for a helicopter and I’ll consider it, doc.”

He opened his eye again, at length. “...sorry for trashing the place. By the way. I mean obviously I didn’t blow it all up, but…” But it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for him. Whirl genuinely liked Dancitron. He actually hoped it wasn’t destroyed for good.

Prowl

Sure, but he hadn't physically touched Soundwave or said nice things to him, and that made all the difference.

Prowl dutifully checked over each of the minicons, pinging the results to Frenzy. For lack of a better diagnosis, he described Chimera's condition as «Mildly not alive (?)» and, after a moment with the scanner lowered and looking over Chimera with his own optics, added, «(one piece missing)».

He crouched a bit behind Frenzy, ready to take more orders as needed. "And I apologize for my part in trashing the place." A life had been saved and that was always more important, but it didn't mean he couldn't apologize for the collateral damage anyway. "I can help with repairs in the evenings. I'm—rather experienced with that, by now."

Soundwave

\OKAY, OKAY.\ Frenzy briefly considered the question of sedatives. Whirl probably wouldn't count being punched unconscious, and anyway, punching was his brother's specialty, not his. He was more of a kicking and stabbing kind of mech. \WE'LL GET YA CARRIED TO NEW PRAXUS. THERE'S ENOUGH OF US AIN'T TOO BEAT UP. OH, UH, HEY - YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHIN' AGAINST RATCHETS, RIGHT?\ He figured Whirl didn't. Autobot, and all that.

[[Do not worry about the building,]] Soundwave cut in. [[You are not the first to trash it.]] He hummed, then, thinking. [[This is the most thorough job, but that is more his and Prowl's doing than yours.]]

Frenzy pointed Prowl back to Buzzsaw while Ravage dropped the previously missing piece into Chimera's side. \GET LIFTIN', CAP'N. HE AIN'T FLYIN' INTO THE HOSPITAL BY HISSELF LIKE THAT.\

\RUMBLE, GET WHIRL'S SHOULDERS. I GOT HIS FEET. RAVAGE, QUIT BOPPIN' CHIMERA'S FACE 'N GET OVER HERE. YOU GOTTA GET THAT HOLE FIXED.\

[[He'll take the help when you can give it, Prowl. Thank you for offering.]]

Prowl

"Wouldn't it be...?" Better for Prowl to carry the mech his size, and one of the deployers to carry Buzzsaw? Oh, well. "Never mind."

He carefully picked up Buzzsaw—"tell me if I need to adjust anything"—and supported him half with his hands and half on his hood. Ready to go.

Soundwave

\Y'KNOW HOW BIG THEM WINGS ARE? NUH-UH. YOU CARRY.\

Whirl

Whirl drew back at last, attempting to push himself up from the floor in a way that would make it a little easier for the twins to carry him. Attempt was indeed the proper word, because all he ended up doing was wriggling somewhat unhelpfully at first. Eventually, he managed to roll onto his back. “Right. Well This isn’t the least dignified thing I’ve ever done,” he said dryly. He had been carried to a hospital before, after all. It was more or less how he’d gotten on the Lost Light.

At least then he’d been unconscious.

The best he’d be able to do to make the twins’ jobs easier was try and support himself with his feelers. At least they were good for something, at the moment. “Well,” he croaked, “it’s been fun.” He tipped his head back, trying to ignore the way his head was shifting on the inside as he gave the interior of Dancitron one last, long look. “But I think I’m all danced out, for tonight.”

Soundwave

There, you see? Already learning how to use the feelers for his benefit. And he wanted Frenzy to write up a whole report. Tsk.

{{No adjustments.}} Buzzsaw let his wings relax out of their usual flight hold, trying not to flinch at the sound of things grating inside. He muttered something to himself before piping up with {{A strong drink, however...}}

[[No drinks. You know that.]] Soundwave pushed himself up onto his feet to give Whirl a small - very small, lest he wobble and fall over - bow, then look for a decently clean place to open a bridge. Upon spotting one, he ripped the portal open and trudged over to it to make sure everyone got through all right. [[Yes. It is safe to say we brought the house down.]]

Prowl

"I don't even like dancing," Prowl grumbled, trudging toward the bridge.

He wondered if Soundwave's room had been rattled up. Probably, unless the second floor was structurally separated from the first and had much better earthquake protection. Possible but implausible. Which made for the second time that Prowl had destroyed Soundwave's room. Well, at least he had his apartment—

Prowl stopped just short of the bridge. "... Where were you recharging? Before you came back here. Did they let you stay on the Lost Light?"

Soundwave

Oh, yes, the second and third floors would be a wreck as well. Not quite as bad as the first, but not in a perfect state, either. Soundwave didn't want to know how many of Buzzsaw's sculptures or Zori's delicate string maps had been ruined.

But it was to help Whirl, and in the process, Rumble. No real complaints there.

[[The Lost Light mechs dragged him into an unidentifiable room. He bridged away during a brief period of wakefulness and collapsed on his apartment berth. He was there until he came online and messaged you. Why?]]

Prowl

"You were in your—? I was in your apartment. To get the— Did I not see you??"

Had Prowl looked toward the berth?

Soundwave

[[Hm. So you were what woke him up.]] He shook his helm. [[You would know if you had, wouldn't you?]]

May Prowl never question Soundwave's ability to go unnoticed when he wishes it again. You'd think all the times he stayed behind on the Lost Light during other mechs' important conversations would have taught Prowl that much.

Prowl

But he was UNCONSCIOUS. On his BERTH. Which is where you expect to find unconscious mechs.

Prowl shook his head, muttering, "This is why I'm not a field agent."

Soundwave

[[That is what you have him for,]] Soundwave replied, gently. [[Go on. Make sure everyone arrives safely and is treated well. He'll... find somewhere to sleep. Again.]]

Prowl

Huff. Was Soundwave his personal agent, now? "Head back to the apartment when you can. And I apologize for waking you."

An affectionate ping, and he headed through the bridge with Buzzsaw.

#chronosmith #slenderwave #chat

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bexterbex · 5 years

Text

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 18

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

MASTERLIST

Chapter 18: Before the Committee

You woke up early to your alarm. Pausing before getting up you relived the events of the last two days. It was a whirlwind, and you wondered if it was always going to be like this. Shaking your head you got out of bed and ready for the day. You wore one of your work ‘uniforms’ as you deemed them more appropriate for the meetings you had ahead of yourself today. You also decided that you should put on some light makeup, as to make a good impression that you took good care in self-grooming.

When you were finished getting ready you grabbed your phone and started to head out of your room. You noticed that Kylo was not in his room, you entered the living room and Lieutenant Mitaka was there once again.

“Good morning m’lady,” said the lieutenant.

“Good morning lieutenant have you eaten this morning,” you ask while walking to the dining room.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the short man.

“Well can I order you a cup of coffee or tea? And I am assuming you have been assigned to me again this morning,” you asked.

“I have been assigned to be your personal assistant of sorts, by the Supreme Leader. And a cup of tea would be most appreciated,” you could see relief cross his face. You reminded yourself that the Kylo that you see is not the Supreme Leader everyone else deals with.

You ordered from your phone for the first time. Unlike Kylo’s data pad there seemed to be a long list of Earth foods, and there seemed to be a list of your favorite foods in the favorites tab. How Kylo was able to do this you didn’t know, but you were too nervous to ask him.

The droid arrived in a matter of three minutes before you were really able to ask the Lieutenant anything. But you enjoyed your breakfast and the Mitaka thanked you for the tea.

“I know I have to be at the Health Committee by around 10. I know I need to arrange for transport. If I could I would like materials sent to me on my phone, about what the First Order’s current health policies are,” as you were saying this Mitaka was typing on his data pad.

“I will have everything sent to you. I can arrange for transport at 0800 hours this morning. I have been informed that the Finalizer’s chief medical officer would like to meet with you before the meeting. He would like you to debrief him on what you and the Supreme Leader have discussed on the subject,” said the lieutenant. You received a notification on your phone informing you that the First Order health regulations documents have been delivered.

You thanked the lieutenant and saw that the time was only 7 AM. You walked into your room and took out your work tote. You pulled out a notebook and pen and walked back to the living room. You started to make notes on what you were reading.

Several manuals, the biggest being 'Field Hygiene and Sanitation.’ This seemed very obvious to you. The purpose of the command, which person is responsible for what in terms of their own health. The individual is first and foremost responsible for their own health, then their immediate commander, then the medical/dental officer, then upper chains of command.

The manual went over personal cleanliness, care of the mouth and teeth, care of the feet, food, and drink, exercise, rest and recreation, protection against the elements, protection against disease-carrying insects, avoidance of the sources of disease, special protective measures, cultivation of a healthy mind, and finally rules for avoiding illness in the field. Many of these things could be translated into civilian life and so you made proper notes on this.

You glanced at the time seeing it was 7:45 by the time you were done making these notes. You decided that you should brainstorm some marketing tactics for this health regime. You made a more encompassing list that you previously stated the day before; Posters, pamphlets, video, radio, press releases, and large advertisements.

“Ma’am we should head to the hangar to depart for your meeting,” said the lieutenant.

You nodded and packed up your things. You followed the lieutenant to the hangar to which you saw the command shuttle and Commander Pyre once more.

“Everything is ready for your departure my lady,” said the gold plated commander.

You climbed aboard the ship and everyone strapped in for take-off.

“Tell me commander, am I to expect you to escort me every time I leave the ship,” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am unless Captain Phasma or the Supreme Leader is here. I have been put in charge of your immediate safety otherwise. General Pryde will meet us with the Finalizer’s chief medical officer. Pryde is also in charge of your safety and your movements,” responded the commander.

You thanked him and thought about what he said, that General Pryde was in charge of your movements. Why did you need to be watched or guarded so heavily? You shook that thought from your head as you received a ding from your phone.

There was a notification from the First Order messaging center. You opened it seeing a message from Kylo, ‘Good morning. I will be in strategic meetings all morning but I would like to join you for a late lunch.’

You responded, ‘Good morning to you too. That sounds perfect, I have no idea how long the Health Committee meeting will go, but I will notify you when we are done or at recess.’

The ship landed and you were greeted by the gray-haired general and an equally gray-haired medical officer.

“Hello, my lady. My name is Dr. Crale Koroban I am the chief medical officer aboard the Finalizer. You and I will be working together on the Health Committee as assigned by the Supreme Leader,” said the medical officer. He bowed slightly when introducing himself with his hands resigned behind his back.

“Hello, Dr. Koroban. I was informed that you were wanting to meet with me before the official committee meeting. Why is this,” you ask. You were now all moving into the White House to a conference room similar to the one you were in yesterday.

“Yes. You have some background and first-hand knowledge as to the health and hygiene of your planet. I was also informed that you were quite frank when you recalled the health of many of the countries. It is this honesty that I need before we meet with the health officials from your planet. The First Order cannot afford a large unhealthy population on your planet,” said the doctor.

“What would you like to know,” you ask. The general had taken a seat on the other side of the table, whereas the doctor sat near you as did the lieutenant with the commander guarding the door.

“I know that many of your third world countries do not have access to proper hygiene facilities let alone water. They have no way of properly cleaning themselves nor do they have proper health care, this is not my initial concern. They are easier to rectify. Your ‘first world’ countries, on the other hand, seem reluctant to want to improve their hygiene and health as they view themselves to be clean and healthy when in fact they are not,” responded the doctor. “What I would like to know is what you know and have observed as a ‘first world’ citizen on the health practices of your class. It is obvious that civilians have not been keeping things up to standard and we need to rectify this.”

You thought for a few moments about what the doctor said, “Like you said, we believe we are clean when in fact we are not. It is sad when the Center for Disease Control needs to remind us constantly during flu season or during any disease outbreak that we need to wash our hands, avoid touching our face and to not share food and drink with others. Many adults fail to wash their hands after using the restroom, but they always make sure to scold children if they forget. One of the officers gave a really accurate statistic about it and honestly, it didn’t shock me. We also don’t tend to stay home when we are sick, like we are supposed to because we tend to be workaholics. During outbreaks, people fear things but don’t really change their habits.”

The doctor nodded to you and was taking notes on the data pad you didn’t notice he had until now. “Reminding people is part of their job, but I see your point. Personal hygiene is step number one in preventing the spread of disease.”

“I also know there has been a rise in people against vaccinations, they fear side effects that have been disproven by medical professionals. There are also people seeking out home remedies for things that can only be cured or treated by a doctor. I am not talking about the occasional headache or stomachache, I am talking about skin rashes, diseases, and even cancer. Not that I am opposed to being prescribed rest, fluids and a healthy diet but there are some things only a medical professional can effectively treat. In third world countries, people will walk for miles to receive medicine, vaccines, and the ability to clean themselves, but in ‘first world’ countries we seem to deny these things as a privilege. It can be very frustrating.”

This time the doctor took more time taking notes and seemed to think a bit more before responding, “I agree with you. Your planet seems to have shifting parallels when it comes to health and hygiene. Your input on this is very valuable to me. We will be meeting with the others soon, but tell me who the three officials you have chosen are.”

You did not remember choosing anyone, you had simply mentioned that it may be best to include someone from the CDC, the WHO, and the Surgeon General. This may be what the doctor is asking.

“While I never directly chose anyone I merely suggested that we have some of the most respected health officials in the room,” you said.

At this point the lieutenant spoke up, “we have the director of the CDC and the director from the WHO coming along with the Surgeon General.”

“Explain to me why you chose the CDC and the WHO,” asked the doctor.

“The CDC is the Center for Disease Control and Prevention here in the U.S. they help set medical standards and are a resource many people trust. The WHO or the World Health Organization does the same thing but worldwide. The Surgeon General is one of the top public health officials in the world. They are chosen by the president of the united states and have significant experience in public health programs. I chose these three because they care for health and not for maintaining public appearances as to how clean we really are. They would like for the world to have high standards and health practices, unlike the politicians who like to refuse the truth about how unhygienic we really are.”

The doctor nodded at this response and seemed to be in deep thought for a moment. “If these are people whom your world trusts than it is of utmost importance that we get them to agree to First Order health practices. Dr. Xero Dabrini will be assisting me in this committee along with a handful of other First Order doctors and nurses. I hope to look to you for help with any mediation that may need to happen between us and these health officials. Note that the First Order wants healthy and hygienic citizens. We want to be able to provide the health care necessary for this to happen.”

You nodded and agreed with the doctor. The First Order is a military. They need healthy soldiers and citizens. You knew Kylo was counting on you to assist the doctor in this committee and you did not want to disappoint him you were ready for this meeting. The first meeting that you would handle on your own, helping him with the First Order.

A/N: Note that this is a PSA from the Author: WASH YOUR HANDS, AVOID TOUCHING YOUR FACE, STAY HOME IF YOU ARE SICK, AND GET PLENTY OF REST AND FLUIDS. The COVID-19 is going around and the next few chapters will be centered around health. In my worldbuilding propaganda, there will be useful hygiene and health tips. Heed them if you would like, and stay safe from the virus and listen to the CDC and the WHO.

A PSA from your lovely Author.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #first order #sw first order imagine #star wars first order #first order propaganda #star wars #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #a soul to mend his own

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