#not to mention its been like fifty chapters and still no progress from the side character im more concerned with

[obssessive101]

God it is so upsetting when a super long fic you've been following for like ten years just goes down the drain and you want to grab the author and scream in their face about how frustrated and pissed off you are that they're doing this to these character you love, but leaving negative comments feels shitty so now I'm trapped just screaming about it to myself in my head and I feel like I'm going crazy ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Alabasta (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

crocodile is one of my favorite villains in one piece for a number of reasons, and one of them is because he’s such a threat, the first real one faced in the grand line and one of the toughest in all of paradise. the villains from the arcs before this, like wapol or the agents from little garden, could barely even land a hit on luffy in actual combat. so crocodile is introduced here as an absolute force of nature, a complete contrast to recent villains and a very tangible threat. 

it’s an impression he very much lives up to later in the arc by crushing luffy not once but twice, which only makes luffy’s ultimate hard-won triumph feel all the better. luffy closes a huge gap over the course of alabasta in order to be able to beat crocodile, and giving us a sense of just how strong he is from the very start gives luffy clawing his way up to that level a lot more weight. 

the successive reveals of luffy’s family never fail to absolutely delight me, because in any other series they would almost certainly feel contrived, but knowing luffy, it is absolutely unsurprising he just never happened to mention his relatives. nobody asked! luffy’s unique brand of honesty is one of my favorite character quirks, because he’s very straightforward and in fact can’t lie for shit, but his priorities are so completely off the wall that he winds up omitting highly relevant information completely by accident. 

ace’s scene in alabasta really does impress me. oda’s said in an sbs that he knew ace’s fate from his introduction, which i find absolutely unsurprising given the intricacy of his story planning. that means he needed ace’s introduction to make him both likable and memorable enough in the space of just a couple chapters that the audience would be engaged when he became the focus of the story a couple hundred chapters on despite barely appearing at all in the intervening time, and he really succeeded. 

kohza is one of my favorite minor characters in the whole series, and i think he’s a big part of why alabasta’s civil war plotline works so well and feels so real. nobody on either side of the war actually wants to fight, but everyone has been driven to such desperation that they feel they have no other choice in order to save their country; and kohza exemplifies that. he's a good person who loves his country a lot, and who genuinely likes and cares about the royal family and vivi especially, and the only option he can see to save alabasta is terrible, but there’s nothing else he can do. 

it’s just fun for me to think about the fact that if crocodile was literally anything other than a very skilled logia, vivi would have ended the whole entire arc right here. 

i really like civil war storylines when they’re well-done, and i think alabasta is one of the best ones i’ve seen in media. most of it is down to what i mentioned earlier, about how nobody on either side actually wants to fight but feels like they have no choice but to. nobody here is actually in the wrong except for crocodile, and so until crocodile is defeated, nothing can be fixed- which is what luffy, of all people, is the one to realize. 

sanji’s mr. prince gambit is probably my single favorite part of alabasta, and i think one of the reasons i like it so much is because he basically beats crocodile at his own game. crocodile is terrifying in battle, but before anything else he’s a manipulator. he’s always working from the shadows, always deceiving people doing what he wants, and sanji manages to turn the tables on him and do the exact same back to him, twice. 

also sanji looks great in glasses

smoker and tashigi both get kind of unfortunately sidelined after this saga, but they’re both really great characters in alabasta. (tashigi especially; i’ll get to her later.) much like the rebel army, they’re good people trying to do the right thing in the tangled mess of tension and politics and resentment that is alabasta- and when that means working with pirates, they’ll buckle down and do it, despite how much it might contradict their worldviews. 

i love when events align in one piece so that people who don’t particularly like the strawhats wind up working with them for some common goal (as seen most prominently in impel down), and smoker and tashigi in alabasta are the first and still one of the best examples of that. 

the entirety of luffy versus crocodile round one is so well done. we’re a hundred and fifty chapters in, and although luffy has struggled in fights before now and then, we get the sense he hasn’t ever really been pushed to the brink, and he’s certainly never lost.

and then he does, completely and absolutely, without ever even landing a hit on his opponent, and it hits like a punch. 

oda seems to be a fan of characters just barely missing each other- the similar panel of robin and olvia running past each other from robin’s flashback comes to mind.

i’ve always liked that of all the strawhats, it’s usopp who gets the first “luffy is going to be king of the pirates” moment. they’ve all said it by the current chapters in wano (with the sole exception of robin, i believe), but usopp said it first, and that feels significant to me. he’s always been the one who feels the least secure in his place on the crew, but even so, he has so much faith in luffy. 

nami’s fight with miss doublefinger is pretty silly in places and i think it gets frequently (understandably, it must be said) overshadowed by zoro’s fight with mr. 1 directly afterwards, but i really like it nonetheless. it’s nami’s first real solo fight in the whole series, and once she finds her feet she kicks ass, and i really like that. it feels like a very satisfying development for her, to stand up and risk her life in direct combat for vivi’s sake. 

we’re now almost a thousand chapters in and its my firm belief that zoro versus mr. 1 is still one of the best fights in the entire series. i definitely think it’s probably zoro’s best fight- only his match with kaku compares. the narrative build over the course of the fight, from zoro struggling just to match mr. 1 (and getting shredded to pieces in the process) to cutting him down in one final stroke, is incredibly cool and satisfying to watch. it feels like a very tangible step forward for zoro in terms of ability, like a massive obstacle has been surmounted and, as he himself says, he’s now stronger for it. 

its also very cool that this is, i believe, the first appearance of what is probably observation haki, though it isn’t named or recognized as such. i’m always endlessly impressed by all the little moments of internal consistency that oda manages to sprinkle into his story. 

there’s barely any dialogue on these entire two pages, from crocodile dropping vivi to luffy and pell swooping in- the story is briefly told entirely through visuals- and i love that. it gives the impression of a single tense, frozen moment as vivi falls, which is then broken in spectacular fashion when luffy catches her. 

i really, really like the progression that runs through all three of luffy’s fights with crocodile. the gap between them goes from being impossible, with luffy unable to even land a hit and crocodile basically toying with him; to surmountable but still huge, with luffy able to land some hits but still outclassed; to finally putting them on basically even ground. and every inch of that growth on luffy’s part is hard-fought and hard-won and well-deserved. 

crocodile’s confidence in his abilities isn’t misplaced- he genuinely is that powerful. but if there’s anything we know about luffy by now, it’s that he doesn’t ever give up. it’s very fun to watch crocodile’s dismissiveness turn into disbelief turn into rage and frustration when luffy just won’t die. 

luffy is, additionally, pretty clearly a better brawler than crocodile (which makes sense, crocodile is clearly used to devastating long-range attacks with his powers while luffy grew up fighting giant wildlife with his bare hands), which means that by the time of their last fight, where they’re just whaling on each other in the catacombs and crocodile is starting to get sloppy and desperate and lose control, if anything it’s luffy who has the upper hand. 

zoro and sanji’s dynamic is always a favorite of mine, and one of the things i like best about them is how perfectly in sync they always manage to be when it comes to things that actually matter, despite fighting like cats and dogs pretty much every other time. i’ll never understand people who think they genuinely aren’t friends. 

tashigi is really good in alabasta, okay. she essentially has her own entire character growth arc. she goes from her stance in loguetown, where she isn’t even tolerant of (fully legal!) bounty hunters, to here, where she’s forced to confront that the world isn’t nearly as black and white as she’s always believed it to be, that sometimes pirates are good and allies of the government are bad, and ultimately makes the right choice to help the strawhats even though it clearly pains and frustrates her that she can’t do anything more herself. 

i’ll be forever mad that her only really significant appearance after this in punk hazard didn’t really live up to what her character deserved. 

i really like how the countdown sequence is done. the tension is ratcheting up and up and up as the clock ticks down in the final seconds, panels cutting all over the city to show all the different characters, everyone who’s caught up in this conflict and everyone who’ll die if the cannon fires-

and then the clock hits zero, and we get this panel that’s just... quiet, after all the madness, as we see how vivi stopped the detonation. i think oda is very good at setting up his pages so they have a flow to them, so no matter how quickly you actually read sometimes things feel like they’re going very fast and all happening at once and then it slows down and gives the reader a chance to breathe, if only to speed up again later. i think oda is really good at pacing in general, really, both on a micro level like this and on a larger scale. 

luffy’s greatest strength isn’t really his strength. he’s strong, absolutely, but that’s not really why he wins the fights he shouldn’t win. he wins because he just doesn’t fucking stay down. his fight with katakuri is probably the best example of this, because katakuri has him beat in pretty much every category except sheer endurance, and there as here, it’s that endurance that winds up getting luffy the win in the end. 

i do love that it’s the rain that ends the war. not the explosion and pell’s sacrifice, not vivi’s pleading, not even luffy kicking crocodile into the stratosphere, but the rain, the thing alabasta’s been missing for too long, the thing crocodile stole, the only thing all these people are fighting over. 

it’s crocodile’s symbolic defeat- at the same moment his power is broken by luffy, the stranglehold of dehydration he’s been using to foment war and rebellion is all at once gone, and he’s left with nothing at all, and alabasta can finally find peace and start to heal again. 

i always love the little moments that show, usually without words, just how much the strawhats love each other, and all of them unanimously waiting until vivi is out of sight to collapse so that she won’t worry, won’t see how ragged they ran themselves for their sake, is definitely one of them. 

i adore vivi’s sendoff, because while its sad she has to go, the certainty that someday they’ll meet again and that even if not they’ll always be crew manages to make this scene endlessly hopeful instead (which, i think, is also a good summary of one piece’s tone as a whole, at least in its more serious moments). luffy never says goodbye, after all, and nobody ever really leaves the strawhat pirates. 

i’m really looking forward to vivi’s re-entry to the story. i really, really want to see her reunion with the strawhats. 

hey look, it’s the panel my profile picture is from! 

the mystery surrounding robin and her past is built up in little ways long before enies lobby, from her harsh reaction when confronted with by tashigi to her aversion to being called by her given name to this flashback, of her talking to cobra about her dream. of them, the latter is my favorite, because i think it’s probably the most sincere she is until enies lobby- which makes sense, given she thinks she’s about to die. 

like many things about robin in alabasta, this gets cast in a new light by her backstory. if she dies here, so too does the entire legacy of ohara- but she’s so beaten down and hopeless that she really doesn’t see any light ahead to strive for. there’s no hope left, for her, and the whole world against her. 

and then there’s luffy, who creates hope everywhere he goes, who makes her live anyways. 

this is a hell of a spread to hook us very effectively right into the sky island saga. it’s a perfect reminder of just how much we still don’t know about all the endless mysteries of the grand line, and just how many adventures are still yet to be had.

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 6

Chapter summary:  Obito follows Kakashi’s advice and tries to find out more about Y/N. When things don’t go his way, he finds himself lost and on Y/N’s house in the middle of the night.

Words: 2.3k

AO3

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It’s almost time for work and Obito hasn’t slept yet. Despite the weird act, Kakashi gave some actually useful advice to him. He said that he manages to get team seven to work harder by playing with their goals, using their objectives as something to incentivize them through a tough mission or a hard exercise. Especially with Naruto, who can get a little lazy sometimes, bringing up his objective to be Hokage as his father seems to always work like a charm.

The thing is: Obito knows virtually nothing about Y/N. Besides what he has on her personal file, he knows nothing about her personal life and objectives. He spent too much time acting like an asshole to the girl instead of trying to get to know her. He keeps on going through her files maniacally while his mind gets lost in thought.

Don’t get him wrong, Obito hasn’t put any effort to meet new people since his accident. In addition to his insecurities with his appearance, his social skills get worse by the day. Okay, Kakashi does make him go in blind dates from time to time, but those always end up in failure, since he refuses to actually give any girl a chance. He tends to get lost in his thoughts while they talk and he usually ends up straight up ignoring them, which would make anyone reasonably mad.

His face still hurts when he remembers about that time that Yamanaka lady slapped him right on the face after he yawned while she talked. Or that time Kakashi ended up going home with both girls and he had to help take Gai into the hospital, after the fool hurt himself in a bet with their friend. Not to mention that time Kakashi tried to hook him up with a lady fifty years his senior. He would have been actually okay with it if she had not called him “grandson” twice. Obito shivers at the thought. Truth is, Obito actually has not given a chance to himself since the accident and Rin’s passing. Obito shakes his head to make the thought go away once his mind mentions his former teammate’s name.

Give me a break for once brain, right?

He finally gives up on the files and goes to lay in his bed, only to be instantly scared by the alarm clock, letting him know he should be waking up. He goes through with his morning routine on autopilot, putting on the jonin vest and heading out to meet Y/N on the training field. For the first time in ages, he arrives on time. He was so into his head that he did not get distracted on the way. He needs to learn more about Y/N today, one way or the other, so that he can get this whole deal to end soon.

Y/N arrives shortly after, looking sleepy and grumpy.

“You’re on time; did you die and get replaced for someone responsible?”

“Ha, funny. Why the grumpy look?”

“I had a little trouble sleeping tonight”

Come on Obito, what’s the best way of trying to connect to someone and to learn about them? Right, through empathy, being relatable!

“Ugh, me too, totally. What’s on your mind?”

“Lunch and dinner. Come on, let’s start.”

“Ouch”

Fuck, alright, this is bound to be tough.

Obito starts today’s training with some blade technique. Y/N is admittedly really good with hers, but she could use some refinement if she is going to be a shinobi now. He corrects her stance first, also focusing on not letting her leave her defense open.

“Raise your arm like this” He shows to her the things he learned from his family during his childhood.

Their treatment of him at that time was… harsh. Being a direct descendant of Madara made everyone treat him like a potential fuckup, and his abilities before the accident corroborated that. They only opened up more to him and begun to treat him with respect after he became one of Konoha’s finest jonins and one of the few ones to awaken the mangekyo in the whole family. Remembering this makes Obito feel a little cramped on the inside, making him want to go back to his current objective with Y/N.

“Right”

“So… when did you learn to use your sword?”

“On the road”

“And?”

“And I think it’s cool”

“Nice… I guess…”

Fuck fuck fuck.

They both go on for the rest of the morning with Obito not being able to make any progress. His difficulty with social situations is making an already hard situation get even tougher. Y/N refuses to respond to any prodding, only talking back to crack jokes at his expense and to cut him off.

“Want to go get some barbecue for lunch?” He asks hoping for her to accept, as a last desperate attempt to approach her somehow.

“Can’t do Uchiha, I have a reunion with the Hokage, later”

She leaves him in the field alone, a sense of hopelessness eating him up by the second. Then comes the explosive frustration of not getting what he wants. He just needs to make this end quicker; he needs to go back to relevant missions to make his objectives come true. He cannot be left behind, he has to make his promise to her come true, he needs to change it all and he can only do that by becoming the next Hokage.

Tears prickle up at his eye, hurting his heart more than his pride. He gets angry at this completely ridiculous situation he put himself in, he had lost focus lately, he got lazy. He had lost the fire that once burned inside him, only leaving him a pile of sadness and old regrets.

It all explodes within him, driving him to start training in a maniacal way, trying to create something new with kamui and kunais at all costs. He has been trying to develop a new jutsu for a while, but he always ends up stumped. The thought of failure is the last straw, he starts to attack the training posts with all he has, not noticing the pain consuming his arms as the hundreds of knifes coming out of his other dimension go through them in a whirlpool of time and space.

It’s the middle of the night when his body achieves its limit, he spent the whole day training and rampaging on the field. Obito falls down on the dirt face first as exhaustion and blood loss finally hits him. Still filled with adrenaline, his last thought is to head to Y/N’s house to get that information, one way or the other.

 ~”~

 A rushed couple of knocks wake Y/N from her slumber. Confused, she looks around the small apartment in search of the noise’s origin. She hears them again, coming from her front door. She looks over to the clock on the kitchenette; it shows that it is around two in the morning. She knows virtually no one in the village still, who could it be?

She grabs her trusty sword at the entrance area and heads to the door, expecting it to be some scammer or maniac. Without turning the lights on, she opens it only to find a tall figure, with broad shoulders and that forlorn look on his face… Obito.

What is he even doing here?

Upon further inspection, she notices that his figure seems a little bit off, worn out even. She finally turns on the lights, only to be met with a grizzly sight: he is covered in dirt and his arms are all bloodied, his shoulders are slumped and his signature messy hair is even unrulier. This image brings her an awful distant memory.

“Want to go for that barbecue?”

“Obito, what happened?”

“Don’t worry about it; we can talk it out on the way” The man speaks in a catatonic way, fully running on his impulses and on the verge of exhaustion.

Those unwanted memories rush back into her mind: a bloodied hand touching her face delicately, a catatonic smile, foggy eyes, a goodbye that came too soon. Her head rushes with rage, rage at her own mind for reminding her of that, anger at him for leaving so soon, anger at Obito for doing whatever he did to do this to himself.

Before she can even think, she pushes the man into her house with force, guiding his almost limp body to her tight bathroom, sitting him on the rim of her bathtub. He does not respond, his eye is directed at nothing, he just lets out a small wave of breath when he sits down. She grabs her first aid kit from under the sink, kneeling down to face him as best as she can in the small space.

“What happened?”

“…”

“Obito!”

She snaps her fingers in front of his face, taking him out of his trance. He gets startled, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.

“Sorry, I’ll be going, okay?”

He tried to get up again, only to be swatted by Y/N and forced to sit back down on the tub.

“We have to tend to your wounds; you look like you lost a lot of blood already. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me what happened, but I’m not letting you go like this”

“I’ll just go to the hospital”

“The hospital is on the other side of the village, dumbass”

He flinches and tries weakly to tear his arm away from her grasp, once her hand touches an exposed bit of his bicep. Y/N does her best to rip away the ripped fabric that covers the wounds, trying not to pull the parts that are stuck together with the cuts. She rips his sleeves away, exposing a mass of cuts in all directions all over the length of his arm.

Y/N bites her lips at the sight, her brain working against her again. Tears threaten to well up on her eyes, so she tries to make go away as best as she can.

They stay silent as she cleans his wounds, still having to hold him in place from time to time. He manages to be stubborn even in times like this, incredible. Once she finishes up bandaging him up, she just sits by his side on the tub.

“Obito…”

“Thank you”

“Is there something going on?”

“A lot”

“… I get it”

They cross looks quickly, Y/N immediately cutting the contact away as soon as it happens.

“I promise I won’t ask anything else… just… did you do this intentionally?”

“No”

“Alright”

A couple of extra minutes passes, only the sound of their breaths filling in the room. Obito looks up again and faces Y/N’s direction. She looks back at him, completely lost in all that is happening. First, he seems to loathe her, treat her like a chore, and now he appears at her door in the middle of the night like this…

Obito opens a small smile in her direction, a genuine one. It’s the first time she sees wrinkles around his eye sockets. He still has that sad look deep down, but he seems to be trying to honestly lighten the mood and say that everything is okay. Y/N lets out a little bit of her tension go away, letting her shoulders relax a little bit more, but not completely.

“Did some granny stab you Obito?”

“Yup, they stole all my money and dignity also”

“Maybe I’m the one who’s babysitting someone huh? Seems like I’ll have to be around to look for you”

Cracking jokes is Y/N’s way of trying to lighten the mood, but it does not seem to work. Obito suddenly gets that really sad look back up on his eye again, looking back down. Y/N can just make out a single tear rolling out of his right eye.

Did I say something wrong?

“Obi-“

He interrupts her by starting to break down, crying loudly and closing his fists with force on his thighs. Y/N instinctively grabs his hand and forces it open, holding his hand with her own with some degree of strength, to try to calm him down. She feels the heavy texture of his palm on hers, a sign of closeness she missed a lot for the past couple of years, something she refused to admit she… longed for. She comforts him like this for the next couple of minutes until his cries diminish to some uneven breathing.

“Thank you, Y/N. I guess having you around… is… uhm… forget it”

Despite the weirdness of his words, she eventually convinces him to go to the hospital to get his wounds healed, letting his warm hand go and realizing she might have done something wrong. She accompanies him to the door, thoughts flooding her mind while they both must up the courage to say something.

You should not be getting this close; you know what happens when you do that. Why did you do that?

“Promise me you go straight to the hospital?”

“Sure…”

“Obito…”

“What, Y/N?

Despite all that, she feels the urge to give him a hug. She is conflicted, she feels that he needs it badly, but she also feels like getting this close is far too dangerous. She should not be opening up like this to someone she barely knows, to someone that might not even like her as person. There is something that drives her to him, something she does not understand. He seems hurt, he seems like he needs a friend, someone by his side.

No, shut up. I didn’t come here for this, I can’t live all that again.

All she can muster up is a weak goodbye before rushing back in.

What the hell even was all of this?

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 1

Future* President Fiancee (I)

----

A young girl with a bit of youthfulness on her face, leaned in and kissed her on the lips, with a smile on her lips, she said: "I... love you"

Mulan blinked, lips trembling, she wanted to say something, but was interrupted by the voice inside her head. That voice was cold and mechanical, without the slightest emotion, it said:

【Mission accomplished, cutting the corresponding memory of system host Mu Lan ; System host Mu Lan, This body withdrew from the role of cannon fodder "Yao Mu Lan".】

【Earn Points: 100 Points ;

Accumulated Points: 100 Points ;

Skill Collection: Beginner Cookery ; 】

【Forcing entry to the next mission world ;

Random selection of new missions in progress….

New mission download completed, official host time transfer. 】

After a moment of heavenly distortion, Mu Lan opened her eyes.

She sat up and took a quick look at her surroundings.

This is a bedroom of about 50 or 60 square meters, a luxurious bed beneath her, which occupies a not insignificant space on one side of the room, a white wooden closet on the right side of her body, and on the left-hand side, a half-covered light blue curtain.

A few sunlight shines through the curtains into the house, reflecting the whole room eerily.

This room is arranged very monotonously, cold tone is the theme color, although gloomy cold silence, but from its details, it is not difficult to see that this is a woman's room.

After Mu Lan finished viewing it, a huge wave of plots and memories came to her mind.

Mu Lan collapsed helplessly on the ** and endured the headache-inducing pain. When the pain faded away, Mu Lan breathed a sigh of relief from exhaustion.

From the plot, it is known that she is now crossing this novel world, the background is set in the future world more than a thousand years later, that is, the thirty-second century.

From within the plot, it is possible to know, the novel world she is crossing now, The setting is set more than a thousand years in the future, that is, in the thirty-second century.

In this world, the setting mentions: because of the uncontrolled exploitation and destruction of the environment, finally in 2372, an extremely severe existential crisis broke out, after this three-hundred-year-long crisis, all women have lost their fertility, after a long research, human beings invented genetic fertility technology.

And after five hundred years of development, mankind abandoned the male-female marriage system and changed it to a society where women and women, and men and men could legally marry.

Although this society is set up very new, the content is completely old-fashioned.

The plot is similar to the modern society of the president's maid novel, the novel tells the story of a tangled love between the young and wealthy president of a rich family and the poor and beautiful maid thousand years later.

After reading the plot, An Mu Lan, her throat spurted out a mouthful of old blood.

Such a stupid and brain-damaged novel, coupled with countless depictions of bad scenes, It is obviously an NP□□.

An Mu Lan felt that this plot was not too helpful to her, so she began to absorb the memories of the original owner.

The name of this body that Mu Lan crossed this time, after the system forcibly changed, is called An Mu Lan, the real sister of the president of the An family.

In the original novel, it is written that this An Mu Lan is a very dark character, always trying to destroy the love between the brothers and the lovely maid, and finally thrown into the mental hospital by the impatient brothers.

And in the original owner's memory, it is rather a detailed filler of the plot that was skipped in the novel.

In the An family, although An Mulan has the status of a young lady, An Mulan is not liked by everyone in the An family.

Because An Mulan's mother, who was picking her up from home, died in an unexpected car accident. This led directly to, An's father's dislike for this daughter.

The father's behavior directly affected the attitude of her four brothers, who either beat or scolded An Mulan, while the servants also did not look at her as a young lady.

When An Mu Lan reached the age of eighteen and was officially able to live alone, she was unknowingly betrothed by her father to a woman who had come up through the ranks of the commoners, the president of a small company that cooperated with the An family, the villainous BOSS of this novel.

The villainous BOSS herself is very good, but the original owner, An Mulan, does not like women, and although An Mulan grew up in a bad environment, she was also raised by a wealthy family, and she has a physical aversion to those commoners.

Thus, An Mu Lan was completely desperate after learning this news.

She took it upon herself to plead with her brothers, but they ignored her completely and made mocking and sarcastic remarks.

Then she went to beg the fiancée, and the woman was quick to agree, immediately.

But An Mulan ruined Father An's plans and brought his displeasure with her to the forefront, and he locked An Mulan in his home, forbidding her to go anywhere or see anyone.

After four months of perseverance, An Mu Lan begged and cried to her father, saying that she was willing to marry a woman. But it was too late, her fiancée had already married someone else.

Father An had to look for a new marriage partner and ended up marrying An Mu Lan to an old man in his fifties.

An Mu Lan muddled through her marriage, she was worn down by life and had resigned herself to her fate.

But on one of her visits back to the An family for the holidays, she meets the heroine, the maid, who begs to her for help in a low profile.

Seeing that she was in the same situation as herself, An Mu Lan took pity on her and offered her a helping hand.

The maid escaped and was captured by forces outside the An family, and it took a great deal of effort on the part of several male protagonists to get her back.

After the maid was rescued and confessed to those in her harem, she washed herself out and discredited An Mu Lan, crying as she told the so-called 'truth', An Mu Lan was hated by her four brothers. They teamed up to bring down An Mu Lan's husband's company and put the isolated An Mu Lan in a mental hospital.

And even in the mental hospital, An Mu Lan still had a very hard time, because the maid's harem was not only the brothers of the An family, but also the young masters and sons of other powers. They had arranged for many people to torment her and make her life worse than death.

When An Mu Lan was dying, she was only thirty years old, but had aged as a woman of fifty, and she died with her soul as the price of revenge on those who had harmed her, to repay it all to everyone who had wronged her.

This is the system's choice out of the cannon fodder female counterpart, as the price of using each other's body, she must fulfill the female counterpart's wish to do so.

For Mu Lan, this task that the female counterpart, An Mu Lan, wants to take revenge on, is not too difficult. She had crossed over to this world just a short time after her eighteenth birthday, still early in the plot, and she would have a long time to plan.

And according to the original owner's memory, in a few days' time, Father An was going to tell her that she had been arranged to be the fiancée of a president.

After learning this news, the original owner became very ill, and so she was deeply affected by this event.

But for Mu Lan now, it's a good time because this fiancée, who is also the main object of her mission, is the villainous BOSS she needs to raid.

In the novel, there is no direct description of this villainous BOSS, only a few side-stories.

In the novel, the villain is a fatherless orphan who has worked her way up through the common ranks and has been involved in the mob and the military, both of which are very powerful.

At the age of twenty-one, she created a new clean identity, with which she started a company and then, a few years later, she built a huge business empire.

By the time she was twenty-seven, she had used that money for, again, to enter politics and make her way in this future world.

Overall, she is an amazing winner in life. Even by the end of the novel, the character's role is only downplayed and even the heroine's powerful harem doesn't dare to take it head on

In contrast to her glorious life history, her personality is depicted differently. When she is mentioned in the novel, she is always associated with the words sinister, cunning, murderous and bloodthirsty.

There is no doubt that this woman is a very qualified villain boss, but as the target of the raid, it is a total headache, leaving Mu Lan with a burning feeling of having nowhere to go.

Mu Lan sighed helplessly, then got up and got dressed and washed up. When she looked up and saw the young figure in the mirror, she silently told herself: from now on, she was An Mu Lan, and she would make those who had harmed her, all pay the price.

After this, she walked to the living room, where, fortunately, she did not see the leading characters, and she sat alone at the table to finish her cold meal before returning inside her room.

She turned on her computer and wrote down everything she remembered about what was going to happen.

The trade secrets and evidence of the crimes, all of which she outlined, were sent to a newly registered private email address. Then a list of several major powers in this future world, all detailed down.

After this, she looked through her □ and found an extremely large sum of money in it, some of which she used to buy things like surveillance cameras and the rest was transferred to a new account to prepare for the transfer of her assets.

That afternoon, she dressed up and went out and spent a small amount of pocket money to ask some children aged seven or eight to help her send the confidential emails anonymously to a designated mailbox.

For example: she sent confidential documents related to the An family to the opponents of the An family; she sent evidence of crimes committed by the mob forces to the opposing forces ...... She sent all the company secrets that had harmed the original owner to the arch rival company, and after this, she just had to watch the progress.

Later that afternoon, An Mu Lan returned home, placed the sophisticated surveillance cameras she had purchased in various corners of the house, filmed the heroine's love affairs with her brothers, and spent several days stitching together the videos and sending them anonymously on the heroine's campus network.

I believe the heroine will be in trouble for a long time after this.

Whereas in novels, when the heroine is written, she is portrayed as a virgin and pure, etc., the exposure of this video will make the brain-dead male protagonists, realize the truth of the matter.

After An Mu Lan had done all this, she was temporarily relieved, no matter what, this task of revenge for the original owner had made initial progress. Next, it was time to raid the villainous boss.

At dinner that day, Father An told An Mulan about her ''fiancée'' at the dinner table and warned her that she would be a guest at the house the next morning, so she had to behave herself.

An Mu Lan's face was expressionless by habit, and she nodded in response.

After dinner, An Mu Lan returned to her room, where she lay down on her ** and began to think.

From the plot of the novel, as well as from the memories of the original owner, it can be concluded that the villainous boss herself, is a very outstanding character, she is tough and has built a career with her lowly origins; she is bloodthirsty and cold, and will do anything to achieve her goal; at the same time, she is also a woman with a very strong desire to control, and is used to having everything in her hands.

Such a woman, to rip her off and go against her will only lead to a worse death, so one has to choose to act in the opposite direction, that is, everything to her liking.

The villainous boss, who grew up in a poor environment due to her living in a slum, hates men and prefers a small, soft girl who must be clean and well-behaved, but must have been brought up in an excellent education, with refined taste and decent behaviour.

This being the case, a decision was made in An Mu Lan's mind.

At around 10am on the third day, An Mu Lan sat quietly on the sofa, her long, black, cascading hair adorned only with a diamond crown, the rest of her hair falling smoothly over her shoulders. She wore a beige bubble dress and looked as delicate and small as a doll in a window display.

The doorbell rang and behind Father An came a tall, voluptuous young woman with a cool, pretty face.

An Mu Lan stood up with graceful posture under the beckoning motion of Father An and walked up to this woman.

Her round, dark eyes fell gently on the other woman, and without waiting for a response, she immediately lowered her head slightly, her long, arched eyelashes trembling gently, her fair, baby-fat cheeks tinged with a blush that aptly showed her shyness.

Father An smiled with satisfaction as he introduced her, "This is the president of Qitian Company, Ling Xihan, President Ling, and this is my daughter An Mulan"

Ling Xihan pursed her lips in response and said, "Hello, Miss An."

An Mulan raised her head obediently, with a smile at the corners of her mouth, revealing two small dimples on either side, slightly opening her lips and greeting politely, "Hello!"

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 7: Reflection

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Seven: Reflection

Note: Thanks for the comments on the last chapter! I had a blast talking with you all, as always! Thanks for sticking around! Sorry I responded as late as I did!

-~-

Snow fell slowly from above, a saving grace and a curse all at once. While it chilled the air and impeded their progress by negatively affecting their body temperature and line of sight, it also served as a means of covering their tracks. That was something that they were grateful for, given their current circumstances, even if it did mean that they were mildly uncomfortable. Still, marching through nearly two feet of snow was a challenge on its own, but doing so in a race against the clock didn’t help.

The only sound that could be heard was that of the snow crunching beneath their feet and their labored breathing as they struggled forward. The occasional branch dropped it’s snow or even broke under their grasp as they tried to push it out of the way in order to pass, but aside from that, there was very little indication that they had ever been there. But after the better part of five straight hours of trudging through snow, they were both less than energetic, and more than ready to take a breather. The question was, did they actually have time?

Morgan suddenly stopped, leaning over and panting, taking deep breaths as she waved V along. He stopped, giving her a curious look as she tried and seemingly failed to catch her breath. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she reached in her pocket and took out a small device before holding it up to her mouth and inhaling deeply. It didn’t take him very long to realize the issue at play here, but it did concern him. Luckily after a few minutes of silence, she straightened back up and exhaled heavily, shivering. The young girl noticed the look on his face and shrugged, unsure of why he was looking at her like that. It wasn’t so much unnerving as it was perplexing to her.

“Probably should have mentioned it, but I have a breathing problem. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay. Just needed to use my inhaler.” Morgan said, holding up the small red device as evidence of her point. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain this fact to him, but she did. “It only ever bothers me when I’m up here. I think it might be the cold. It’s a little warmer where I’m from. But I’ll be fine. I think I caught it early.”

V nodded, somewhat relieved to know that his assumption about her condition was correct, and that she at least had a means of combating it. The nearest hospital was nearly fifty miles away from town, and heading back to town to try and find a doctor was a lost cause. Not only would she probably be beyond help by that point, but he was sure that all the doctors were probably indisposed at the moment if they were even still alive. It was an issue to be sure, but one that he was better equipped to deal with now that he knew about it.

As far as misfortunes in his life went, they seemed to be ceaseless and unending. But he was glad to be able to say that issues with his overall health were at least more than manageable. Sure, his energy reserves were what could charitably be called “lacking”, but at least he didn’t have any other underlying health problems. Well, at least, non that he knew about just yet. But he would worry about that later. For now, they needed to get going again. It seemed that they had some kind of lead in this little chase, and it was best that they preserve it. Pepper spray and politely asking their attackers to leave and never come back wasn’t exactly a foolproof insurance plan.

“Do you need to rest a little longer? I think we can spare a few minutes.” V asked quietly as he glanced around the space they currently occupied. He didn’t hear or see anything, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing in a situation like this. Their very lives were at stake. He’d like to know more about what they were up against if he could.

“Oh, no I’m fine,” Morgan said softly as she tucked the inhaler back into her pocket and wiggled her shoulders, trying to shake off the bitter cold that they found themselves in. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to be out here any longer than I have to be. It’ll be getting dark in a few hours, and the woods are the last place that I want to be, curse or no curse. Might get eaten by wolves or something like that. Who knows?”

They started along again, the pair glancing behind them to affirm that they were, in fact, actually going in the correct direction. It was easy to get turned around in these kinds of conditions, and neither of them wanted to waste precious energy walking back towards their untimely deaths. But the words that his young counterpart had spoken had caught his attention. It seemed that she knew much more about why the locals avoided the forest than he did, and he was genuinely curious to know about it. Although he wasn’t one for long conversations, or short ones for that matter, a good story was still a good story. And as long as they kept their voices down, he was willing to entertain the tale if she was willing to share it with him. It might prove to be a much-needed source of entertainment and distraction in such a chilling and uncertain time.

“You said something about a curse. What did you mean by that,” V asked quietly as they carried on. He could see the road just up ahead, which meant that they had not strayed from their path. It would soon be time to cross again.” The locals didn’t share much with me aside from saying that I should never venture into this place. Many of them didn’t really have much to say to me.”

Morgan gave him a curious look, seemingly puzzled by the statement. “They didn’t have much to say to you? Why? What were they doing?  Just ignoring you or something?” She seemed to already know the answer to her question without knowing it, her response hitting the nail right on the head.

V blinked slowly, holding his now cupped hands up to his mouth in order to blow hot air into them. It was a wonder to him that his body still produced warm air at this point. It had to be below freezing outside, or at least near it. Yet another compelling reason to reach the next town over before nightfall. “Yes. That is exactly what they did. But I’m not upset by it. I’ve long since come to expect it from others.”

Now she seemed more confused than ever, her disapproval visible in every aspect of her facial expression. “You expect people to be rude to you for no reason? That’s awful. Why, do they always do that to you?”

The conversation had become more personal by that point than he probably would have liked, but he was still willing to answer it. He wasn’t really interested in elaborating upon it, but still. “I believe it has something to do with my hair color. Or, at least that is an aspect of it. I won’t pretend to know why my very existence seems to be so offensive to some people and, at this point, I don’t really care to.”

An almost sad look crossed her face as she hurried to catch up to him. She’d fallen ever so slightly behind, and had no intention of slowing them both down. Morgan knew that V wasn’t going to leave her behind, and she didn’t want her inability to keep up with his stride to be the reason they got left behind. “People are stupid. You dye your hair a fun color, and suddenly they just lose their-”

It’s actually naturally this color. Always has been from what I understand. Or, at least that’s what the orphanage I grew up in…” He trailed off then, instantly regretting the fact that he’d mentioned that. It was a painful topic, and he liked to keep it buried deep. Simply mentioning it then had brought up brief flashes of things that he’d wished his entire life up until then that he could forget, and he took a moment to mentally chastise himself for not simply shutting up about it. It was best that he not confront those demons. It did nothing but hurt him, and the last thing he needed in a situation like this was to suffer further. Becoming upset tended to lead to other unsavory side effects, and he had no interest or reason to want to cause himself further anxiety. Although his calm demeanor might imply that he was cool and collected, he was barely hiding the fact that he was scared out of his mind. The freezing temperature wasn’t the only reason that he was shivering and shaking.

Morgan blinked, her eyes going slightly wide. “Wow, really? I think that’s pretty cool. But then again, I’m fifteen, so I’m not allowed to know what’s cool. At least that’s what my mom says.” She shook her head still just behind him as she hurried along. “I’m sorry about you being an orphan and all that. Seems pretty rough. At least I have my mom.”

V was more than willing to agree with that statement. Being an orphan had indeed been “pretty rough”, especially when you were an orphan that even the orphanage had no interest in. The amount of disinterest, avoidance, and outright neglect that he’d been shown as a child made him question what an actual happy family must function like. And he’d never received a chance to find out, either. V could count the number of times on one hand that he’d actually been allowed to interact with a couple or individual that was looking to adopt. Something about the possibility of him chasing away adoptees due to being “abnormal.”

Yes, that wasn’t at all psychologically damaging to a young child. And no, the entire experience hadn’t emotionally stunted him as a result. But then again, that could simply be a heavy dose of denial. Whatever it took to get through the day. He told himself that they were simply singling him out, but there was a sad, deeply hurt part of him that couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. Somewhere out there, at least at one point, he’d had a set of biological parents, and he’d still ended up where he had at a very young age. There was always the possibility that something unfortunate had befallen them, but there was also the equally likely possible outcome that they had simply agreed with the same sentiments that the orphanage had shared and had decided to dispose of him before someone else noticed that he didn’t fit in with the rest of polite society.

He paused for a moment, realizing only then that he’d been lost in his painful thoughts and hadn’t responded to Morgan. She was watching him quietly, a concerned yet sympathetic look on his face that he knew he was responsible for. His discontent with himself grew slightly. It was not becoming of an adult to offload their damage onto a minor. He needed to do better. One would think that after a lifetime of burying his pain and insecurities deeper and deeper that he’d be better at hiding them when the need arised. “Sorry. Forgive me. And thank you, but I don’t need your sympathy.”

Morgan was more or less adept at telling when someone was hurt, and she was silently horrified by the overwhelmingly melancholy demeanor that he possessed. She hadn’t really noticed it until then, but it was there, no doubt about it. Her new companion was suffering a great deal from something she couldn’t even begin to guess at, and she wished she could help, but that would have to wait until they got out of this mess. Still, it was something she found extremely sad. He seemed like a good person from what she could tell. Good people shouldn’t have to suffer. Maybe a light dose of humor could help break the barrier that he was forming around himself?

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing. And sorry that I can’t keep up with your long gazelle legs. I’m not that tall, ya know?” She kept a straight face as she spoke, but she couldn’t help but nearly laugh. On the inside, she was quaking from what she knew was probably a really stupid joke, but she couldn’t help herself. Humor was her only coping mechanism when she was down in the dumps, and as such, it was all she had to fall back on during situations like this.

V glanced over at her for a moment, a soft, brief smirk spreading across the right side of his face before dissipating. The comment had been so juvenile, but the lighthearted nature of it was somehow compelling to him. He was aware of the fact that he was very tall. There was no escaping it. He’d always been that way, even as a child. But he’d never heard someone put it that way, and it honestly sort of cracked him up a little. He genuinely appreciated the gesture, and was impressed by her level of emotional maturity for one so young. It had gone a long way towards reassuring him that everything might actually turn out okay in the end. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Don’t worry about it, man. Were good. We just have to get out of here.” She brushed a fallen dusting of snow off of her coat, clearly displeased by the coating of white powder that had nearly hit her square in the face. “But we can’t be, what, more than like five miles away at this point?”

He nodded. “I’d say about six. It’s hard to triangulate without a map, but cutting directly across the center of a winding road has saved us a substantial amount of time and walking.” He sighed, relieved to find that his plan had worked for the most part. He was far from the hiking sort, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever enter another forest for the rest of his life after this. “They say that the quickest way forward is straight, and it has proven correct in this circumstance.”

Morgan cleared her throat as quietly as she could as they approached the edge of the road, the both of them looking around for any signs of company. From what she understood, this was the last stretch of their journey. If the trees were taller, she could only imagine that she’d be able to see smoke from the chimneys of the nearby city. It was much larger and more populous than the small town they’d just come from. Surely the worst hadn’t come to pass there, too. And if it had, then she was going to find the nearest car, hotwire it or something, and they were going to get the hell out of there. She’d had enough walking to last a lifetime.

He went across the road first, slowly crossing and looking around as he stayed as low to the ground as he could. There was no sight of anyone, but he still couldn’t shake the anxiety that threatened to boil over every time that he dared come out in the open. He felt exposed and helpless like a prey animal caught in the sights of an apex predator. It was a strange sensation, and he hoped to never feel it again after this little misadventure that they found themselves in.

Once he’d found his way to the other side of the road, V had gestured for Morgan to follow him as quickly and as quietly as she could. She did so, her eyes never leaving him as she practically leaped across the road and into the gulch below. They then both bolted into the woods, the tall, dark trees welcoming them like old friends. Despite the situation that they found themselves in, there was some measure of comfort and solace that they found amongst the trees. It was like a security blanket or a night light in a dark room when you thought a monster was under your bed as a child. Only this monster was real, and it was probably after them.

“... You said before that you wanted to hear about the curse, right? I totally forgot,” Morgan said after nearly a half-hour of genuinely unbearable silence. The mid-day sun was beginning to fall, and a strange sense of unease grew within her. As far as she was concerned, it was only a story. But then again, there was a measure of truth to every story, wasn’t there? “If it’s real, then we’re pretty lucky that it hasn’t come after us yet, right? I’ve heard that it’s pretty nasty stuff.”

V glanced over at her, an unreadable look on his face. “Let’s not say as much, then. We have enough bad fortune to contend with. Why chance it?”

Morgan shrugged, still somewhat detached from the reality of the situation she found herself in. It was the only way that she could keep it together for the time being. “I guess that raises a good question, doesn’t it? Are we lucky or unlucky, V? Because we made it out alive, but stuff like this shouldn’t happen in the first place, right? What a pain.”

“A conundrum for sure. Our perception of luck is subjective, and has a lot to do with our outlook on life. Someone more positive than me might say were luck, but I…” He drifted off again, catching sight of something just ahead. It looked like light smoke from a chimney, but he couldn’t be sure from this distance. They would find out soon enough, though since it was directly in their path. “I can’t say just yet. We need to get to safety first. Were not out of the woods just yet. In any manner of speaking.”

She shook her head and followed along, wrapping her arms around herself. He made a good point. Morgan could only hope she’d be this wise one day. With a playful jab in the side, she walked forward, her eyes trained on the same distant object that his had been only moments ago. “Oh my god, never tell a joke again, V. You really suck.”

-~-

Hey everyone! Thanks for checking out this week’s chapters! I wonder what that object in the distance is going to turn out to be… Tune in next week for what will be the beginning of the end to this little snow arch. I hope it’s been an insightful and interesting look into V’s past so far. LOL DMC5 wasn’t his first nightmare, it seems. “After the Nightmare” is more like it!

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Eight - I’m So Fixated

The boys never bothered to tell her about how moody Matty had been while she was away, because as soon as she had returned, he was back to his normal self anyway. It literally took the space of the taxi ride from the airport back to the venue before he started feeling the relief of her presence washing over him. He was back on his game for the show that they had that night, and everyone was able to see it from those on stage to those in the crowd. That usual magnetism of his had returned. Due to the typical chaos of the show and then having to get everyone back into the bus and on the road to the next one, Y/N/N and Matty didn’t really get to properly hang out with one another until they were finally at the next venue. Whenever the others in their group were around, everyone just wanted to find out if everything had been okay when she got back home.  So, Matty figured that he could wait. He still had plenty of time across their remaining two weeks of the tour, and maybe it was best to give her some space after a long-haul flight and dealing with a house break-in. However, he was happy to discover that once they had the chance, she was as eager to spend time with him as he was her. The next day saw the two of them hanging around the stage waiting for the other guys to arrive for soundcheck.

“Teach me the Tootime dance.” She said to Matty from her spot sitting on top of the barrier.

“What?” He asked with a frown, looking up from tuning his guitar.

“You know, that dance that you do in Tootime with Taitlyn and Kaylee near the end of the song.” She elaborated.

“What?” He asked again, this time laughter seeping into his incredulous tone. “Why would you want to learn that? That thing is only four steps.” He pointed out.

“And?”

He paused, thinking a moment before replying, “Why don’t I teach you the It’s Not Living stuff instead?” He offered.

“That’s just running on the spot.” She argued.

“No, it’s not. There’s more to it than that.” He said, trying to defend himself.

“I don’t wanna run on the spot while holding a guitar. That sounds like hard work.” She frowned, glancing at the guitar hanging from his shoulders.

“You’re the one who keeps complaining that working for Rome isn’t enough work.” He shot back. She just stuck her tongue out at him in response. “Fine, I’ll teach you the Tootime dance. C’mere.” He said, motioning for her to join him up on the stage.

  “Hann,” Ross called out from where he was standing near the lighting booth at the back of the venue, catching the guitarists attention who had been busily trying to set up the light timings for the newest addition to their setlist. He gestured for him to come over to where he was standing before directing his attention down to the two of them dorking around on the stage. “What’s the bet: how long before Matt notices that he is the one that’s into her?” He asked. Adam hummed thoughtfully, trying to come up with an accurate guess at how much longer their friend would remain clueless. “I bet you a tenner that he’ll work it out before the end of this tour.” He added.

The guitarist laughed loudly. “Really?? I think it’ll be at least another month.” He countered.

“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” He offered again, holding his hand out for Adam to agree to the terms.

The two of them felt a hand clap down on each of their shoulders before they could seal the deal, looking over to see George standing behind them. “You’re both wrong.” He said, shaking his head. “He’s not gonna work it out until someone tells him.” He continued.

“You really have that little faith in him?” Ross asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I bet you both a fifty.” George challenged, holding his hand out. The two of them shared a look, before nodding and shaking George’s hand. It seemed pretty unlikely that someone as smart as Matty would be dense enough not to see it. “You guys saw him last week when she was gone; you both know how one track minded he can get. He’s way too caught up in his own shit to notice.” The drummer explained with a self-satisfied grin that he’s just made an easy hundred.

  Matty’s three bandmates decided to give him his space throughout the day after seeing how much he was relishing in finally having her company back. And it proved to be a beneficial decision, as his good mood was contagious to anyone in close proximity to him. When everyone on The 1975 crew was in a good mood, the entire process of the show was seamless. Setup and pack-down occurred in record time without Matty moping around the stage, and they were on the way to the next stop on the tour well before schedule. After winding down from their show, George was promptly reminded by a group text from Jamie that their latest single from Notes was dropping that night at midnight. Which he realised was only about fifteen minutes away. He rallied his friends around the small dining room on the bus to wait for the time to tick by. The anxiety in the air was palpable as the moment got closer and closer. Matty drummed his fingers on the table, staring out of the window at the passing road. First impressions were important to him with things like this - something that he had put so much effort and care into. As much as this was technically their third release off of Notes, it was still the first impression of this particular song that he was about to hear. This track also felt quite personal. To be fair, all of his tracks were - his lyrics were always directly referencing his life and desires. But this one dealt with a lot of his insecurities about, well, being insecure. Being sincere in life was hard, but doing it in song was much easier for him. Dealing with people hearing it in song? That was terrifying. What were people going to think? Were they going to respond positively? Were-

  The singer let out a deep sigh, trying to push the nerves to the back of his mind. “Are you guys ready for the reactions?” Matty asked as he tapped away at his phone. Y/N/N looked around the bus in mild confusion as she stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she was intruding on a band meeting or something.

“They’ll be good, I’m sure. We all agreed that it was a tune.” Ross said with a firm nod, Adam making a few noises of agreement from the other side of the table. The mood in the room was very tense, but trying to piece together what was happening from the limited information that they were offering was proving difficult.

George pretty quickly sensed her curiosity, “We’re releasing a new song tonight off of Notes.” He explained.

 “Which one?” She asked.

“It’s the song that you heard me working on the other week.” Matty answered, turning his phone to show her the post he was about to publish. Ah. That made sense.

“Oh, I quite liked that one.” She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “It’ll definitely be a positive response.”

  As much as he felt like he didn’t need the validation - that he had enough faith in the band’s skill by this point in time - he couldn’t deny that hearing her reassurance put him a step closer to being calm nonetheless. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she leant against the wall next to him, glancing over his shoulder as he shared the song to The 1975’s social media accounts. The comments started rolling in as soon as the post was up – every time they refreshed the page there were another set to go through. The band ended up using each of their own phones to keep up with the torrent of reactions, making mention of the notable ones as they saw them. Overall, it was a positive response for the majority. There were the odd comments about how different the track was, that it was so unlike their other songs and jarring as a result, but that was to be expected. Matty didn’t want to be releasing things this far into his career that sounded like what he’d done in the past. If you weren’t making progress and experimenting with new things, you were just stagnating. What was the point in that? And if they didn’t like this, then they definitely weren’t going to like the album. They were delighted to see a few texts roll in from friends and family remarking on their thoughts of the track. Those were the opinions that they valued most. The five of them crowded around the table continued chatting about the reviews that were still rolling in as they felt the bus roll to a stop. It was the middle of the night; they hadn’t expected to be stopping at this hour. Upon a quick glance out the window, Adam could see petrol bowsers. The bus driver shouted over his shoulder something about refuelling that made the pieces click into place.

  “Well, since we’re stopping, I’ll be back in a minute.” Matty said as he pulled a cigarette out of its packet and stood up. As much as he was normally fine with smoking on the bus, he liked to take the opportunity to do so outside when it was presented; even if just for the sake of those around him who didn’t smoke trapped in that space with him. Also, after how high strung he had been about dropping the new track, he really needed the relief. He was about halfway to the door when he heard someone speak up behind him.

“I might step out too.” Y/N/N added, pushing herself away from the wall.

“You don’t smoke.” He pointed out with a curious eyebrow raised.

“I’m allowed to get some fresh air.” She shot back as she breezed past him and outside of the bus.

“You could just open a window, you know.” He shrugged in response, but followed after her regardless; not wanting to decline good company.

  The night air had quite a bit of bite to it as the two of them stepped outside. She wrapped her arms around herself to deal with the sudden drop in temperature as she watched him lean against the side of the bus next to her and light up his cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he looked around the petrol station. It was always strange seeing what should be a busy establishment at any normal hour deserted at a time like this. The feeling reminded him of stepping into an alternate reality. Things seemed to exist differently in the early hours of the morning. Before he had the chance to make an offhand comment about this, he noticed that her gaze was fixed on the smoke he had just exhaled above them. He hadn’t realised before that she seemed to watch him every time he was smoking. Thinking back on it, despite that she herself didn’t smoke, she never made a point to leave the room when he did like most people had in his experience. Previously he’d been too focused on the fact that she constantly declined his offers to smoke weed with him to really notice. But he was suddenly very aware of the way that she watched his hands as he held the cigarette. She could be standing out here on her phone, or taking in their surroundings, watching the stars, something. But instead, she absentmindedly held her gaze on him as he released the smoke from his lungs. Interesting. He didn’t have the time to think of an eloquent way to bring that up before the driver was making his way back into the bus and ushering them inside to set off on the road again. That information would have to be tucked away for future reference.

  After an evening of being trapped in the bus with the two of them attached at the hip and swapping knowing looks all night, Adam was starting to lose his mind. It wasn’t unusual behaviour for them, but it only seemed to have gotten worse since she got back. Something had to happen either way in this situation. Whether they finally shacked up or she finally properly shut him down or god forbid Matty did turn around and fuck it all up, something had to be done. If he had to endure much more of this, he was going to go insane. He knew that ideally for the sake of his friends, he wanted things to end well, but the little voice in the back of his brain reminded him that Matty liked to go through… phases, with things. He would become obsessed with something and then drop it for the next greatest thing a few weeks later. To her credit, it had been a good few months now and he still seemed hell bent on her. But he didn’t really want to see Matty win this bet and then lose all interest once his goal was achieved. By his own confession, it was just a bet. Nothing more. And he seemed to be getting closer to that by the day. Adam had noticed the way that she watched him more than usual, how she seemed to turn him down less and less. It was inevitable at this point. George had mentioned that he’d had the odd chat with the both of them before, but Adam felt like he had to make things abundantly clear. He’d known Matty for long enough now to know that he had a bad habit of messing up good things. Despite that he was a very blunt person who was typically very clear with his intent, things often looked different through rose coloured glasses.

  So, when they’d reached the next venue, he’d suggested that himself and Y/N/N go for a walk to grab a coffee and have a chat before their day begun. Thankfully, neither her nor Matty seemed to bring up any issues with this when he offered it. Which saved him having from having to awkwardly explain his motivations in front of who he wanted to talk about. As she stepped out of the bus door onto the pavement, Adam took a quick glance behind her.

“Where’s Matt?” He asked with a frown, having expected her shadow to at least attempt to follow her out here.

“He’s been holed up in the back lounge trying to sort out some song for the last while.” She answered as they started walking.

Adam nodded in understanding. “Sounds like him to fixate on that…” He thought for a moment, before taking the easy segue that was offered to him. “That boy is typically fleetingly obsessive with things. He’ll turn up one day with a video camera and projector, ‘Look, I’m making a film.’ Yeah, all right, mate.” He scoffed with a laugh. “Two weeks later, he’s lost the charger and he’s forgotten about what he wanted to record.” He added, the both of them laughing at how typical that was of the mile a minute mind that was Matthew Healy. “That’s what makes him great when he focuses though, he is endlessly passionate.” He explained, trying to loop back around to his original point.

  “But that’s, uh… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Adam added sheepishly.

“Oh?”

“Because currently what he’s stuck on, is you.” He admitted.

“Oh.”

“He’s very hung up on this bet thing, and I just wanted to make sure that you’re not thinking that it’s…” He waved his hands dismissively as he tried to find the right words, “something else.” He was struggling to find a way to make this sound nice. But at the end of the day, this conversation wasn’t nice. He was throwing his friend under the bus and potentially hurting another.

“No, I know.” She said with a nod. “I know that it’s just a weird thing he has going with himself. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t know what he wants.” Her greater sense of reasoning knew that what she had said was true, but saying it out loud made it hit differently. Hearing the words come from her own mouth after spending the last five weeks on tour with Matty stung a little bit more than she’d care to admit. The issue was, she was already in too deep. The damage was done and a naïve part of her still held out hope that maybe he was going to change his mind. That wasn’t going to change unless her feelings for him magically dissipated. But him not being clear on what he wanted was the entire reason that she hadn’t admitted anything – she had to remember that.

  Adam sensed the sudden dampened atmosphere between them, trying his best to change the topic and lighten the mood now that he had said his piece. But she’d already dragged herself back to reality and been slapped in the face with the harsh reminder that she was probably going to get burned by the Matty sized hole she’d dug herself as soon as the tour ended. She couldn’t really change any of it now. The best she could do was just try and not let herself get too much more invested, and the stubborn part of her definitely didn’t want to let him win that dumb bet. So, it was business as usual. Keep lying about it and hope for the best. She opted to skip soundcheck that day, instead deciding to hang out on the bus and get some space to herself. The only issue was that it proved difficult to relax in such a small area when it was littered with everyone’s stuff. Her eventual boredom inspired her to want to clean up this mess, which wasn’t exactly an easy feat for how their gang left it sometimes. But it needed to be done and it kept her mind occupied.

  However, her attempt at some alone time ended almost as soon as it felt like it had begun. George had been the first to get back to the bus after soundcheck, only an hour after having left. He threw a quick ‘hello’ and ‘thanks for tidying up’ over his shoulder as he made his way through to the back lounge. Experience had taught her that his best friend probably wouldn’t be far behind, and she was right – because her absence hadn’t gone unnoticed by Matty. Once he’d realised that she wasn’t around, and his band nor Rome had any idea where she was, he went looking for her at the soonest opportunity. The bus door opened again, and she was unsurprised to hear steady footsteps approaching her as she stood at their small kitchen sink, attempting to scrub the grime build up off of a plate that had been sitting on the counter for a few days now. She knew full well who it was before he said anything, but she didn’t anticipate his next moves. His hand came to rest on the small of her back as his head all but rested on her shoulder. Matty watched in amusement as her movements tensed and she abruptly stopped washing the dishes that she was in the middle of.

  “I didn’t see you at soundcheck,” He said in a low voice, intentionally letting his breath fan across the side of her neck, “just thought I’d check in.” The gears in her mind simply stopped turning as her heartbeat hammered in her ears. It seemed like the gears might have just fallen straight out of place and were now tumbling steadily down to the pit of nerves that had formed in her stomach. The feeling of him being so close sent a shiver down her spine as her skin prickled under his breath. For how close his breath felt, his lips must’ve been within a few centimetres of the side of her neck. This was a targeted attack. She didn’t know how he knew, but it was abundantly clear that he knew exactly what he was doing. The self-satisfied smile was evident in his tone and gave away his intentions. This was a whole different game to what they had been playing thus far. Matty in the past had been all bark and no bite, which was easy enough to shrug off. It was one thing for him to look attractive, or to throw a flirty remark out there, but this? This would prove majorly difficult to not cave in to if he started hitting buttons as sensitive as this.

  Her knuckles were turning white from how hard she was gripping the counter in front of her to force herself not to react to him. She let out a jagged sigh when he finally moved back a bit and she could regain control of her thoughts. “How do you even know about that?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

“Know about what?” He asked innocently.

She turned around to face him and he couldn’t help but grin at the bright red painting her cheeks. “You fucking know what.” She glared.

“If you’d just admit that you were into it-”

“Being into it doesn’t mean I’m into you.” She interrupted.

“The two do correlate.” He reasoned, still far too happy with himself that he worked this out.

“Correlation does not equal causation.” She shot back, falling back onto her university teachings to try and get him to shut up.

He leaned in slightly, holding her gaze. “Even in your case?” He asked lowly. She didn’t reply, instead choosing to brush past him and head towards the back lounge. Matty let out a quiet laugh of satisfaction, figuring that he should get himself off of the bus before something was thrown at him.

“Matthew!” George’s voice shouted from the back of the bus, catching his attention before he shut the door behind him. “Give the girl a fuckin’ break, would ya?”

  Y/N/N had stormed her way into the back lounge, and upon seeing how flustered she was George felt obligated to ask what was wrong. But he should’ve known that it would be Matty’s doing. It was naïve to think that he might let up on this stupid bet of his. George was pretty surprised that she hadn’t already left. She was clearly frustrated at how annoying he was being, though apparently not mad enough to actually leave. But he was also fairly sure he knew exactly why she hadn’t left yet. “You are into him, yeah?” The drummer eventually asked without looking away from the game that he was playing. She looked up at him from the other side of the couch, trying to form an answer but her brain still reeling slightly.

“No.” She lied instinctually. “Yes.” She corrected, before suddenly doubting that answer as well. “Maybe, kind of. How do you know?” She asked as she frowned across at him.

George just stared at her sarcastically. “You flew all the way out here just to hang out with him for a few weeks.” He pointed out.

“And the rest of you!” She said, trying to defend herself at least a bit. But she was pretty confident that he was right.

“I’m not daft,” He laughed loudly, “and neither’s he. Why won’t you tell him?” He asked, turning his attention back to the game.

“His ego is big enough as it is.” She answered. “And…” She was reminded of her conversation earlier with Adam, “if I tell him then I need to deal with the aftermath of that. He’s already said he doesn’t know what he wants, so why would I put myself out there with nothing in return?” She admitted quietly.

“Fair enough.” He nodded. There was a pause in the conversation before George decided to state the obvious, just in case it wasn’t already common knowledge: “He already knows that you are.”

“Then why is he pushing so hard to hear it?” She huffed in annoyance.

“He wants you to say it for the same reason you won’t tell him; ‘cause he’s an arrogant wanker.”

Last Chapter

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[bluesakura007]

What She Had to Do - Chapter 3: Before You Start a War - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: Now that she’s finally woken him up, Zinalya and Khan make their way through the facility to get out of there, but something suddenly ends up happening to her which almost threatens to compromise the plan. 

Warnings: There’s fight scenes here, so there’s violence, and there’s also a tiny little bit of blood. The current goings-on reminded Khan a lot of his journey through the halls and deck levels of the USS Vengeance back in 2259: he and the half Trill who’d set him free making their way through the dim hallways taking up the interior of Sierra-Lambda 3, phasers in hand. 

Zinalya’s plan was to not go for the same direction she’d come in from, as the facility’s front gates were perhaps its most well-guarded area, but to instead try to go the other way and out the back. During the initial scheming stages around a year ago, shortly after she’d met Iadras and he’d agreed to help, she found a schematic of the entirety of the place, and also found with said schematic a few back doors which were available for them to utilise in making their escape.

They were taking a little bit of a stealthy approach to going about this, progressing through the corridors in a similar covert way to how she’d gotten to him while he was still in his slumber from Fletcher’s office in the first place, but they were currently less worried about being seen than she’d been during this part a few minutes ago. 

This was because there was now two of them and one of this duo was an enhanced superhuman, meaning the combination of these enhancements at play and Zinalya’s own combat experience in action - both from her experience as a security chief in general and from the extra preparations and training that she’d taken in private for the last year to make sure she was as well-prepared as she could be for this plan, which, so far, seemed to be a success - would be an undoubtedly tough opponent. However, this fact that there was only two of them meant they were outnumbered somewhere around fifty or sixty to one. And the security guards stationed here were trained for the possibility of Khan having been broken out, so this too was an undeniably difficult obstacle.

Because of her being the one more aware of the facility layout, Zinalya was at the front while Khan himself was on the rear guard, watching out for any opponents trying to make a sneak attack from behind them. So far they'd only had to stun two or three people they came up against, so that these two or three wouldn't go blabbing about seeing them to the rest of the guards, but they'd decided to just try to not be seen and to not discharge their phasers as much as they could, because it created noise, the very thing which could draw more of an audience.

"Only a little further to the next half of the floor plan." She updated him, shortly after which she momentarily became slightly startled as one of the scientists in white tunics also staffing Sierra-Lambda 3 came into view in front of them. 

Just for about a quarter of a second, the look in his eyes was confrontational, but instantly upon seeing Khan with her, this look eroded away quickly and was replaced, in the same amount of time, with them now becoming widened in intense fear. In this sudden fear, he dropped the data pad he was holding and legged it back the way he'd come from at a sprint before either of them could fire their weapons and stop him. Damn. "Great." Zin spoke another version of this word out loud sarcastically.

"Don't be too concerned about him - our main priority is making our way out of this prison and into the outside." Khan, also feeling this same word in the back of his mind, gave her this reply instead.

"You're right." She found herself nodding in agreement, after which they continued on their way down this area of the corridor.

However, their above-mentioned combat skills were very soon called into action when they were practically jumpscared by the abrupt appearance of three guards, all of whom possessing phasers on their belts. "Don’t move!" One of them barked, all of them drawing these phasers.

Imagine the Beastie Boys song from the other two AOS films, Sabotage, playing during most of the rest of this chapter. ^^

"I’m not really in the mood for taking orders like that so easily." Retorted Zinalya.

"I can’t say that I’m sharing that mood, either." Agreed the Augment, whose current attire of the black long-sleeved shirt and matching trousers and boots that he’d worn two years ago - the last clothes he wore before he placed in a coma in this cage - still matched the colour of his hair in addition. And then the physical aspect of the confrontation broke out. Zin swiftly pulled her own phaser and managed to get one of the three, sending him down to the floor, before the other two immediately engaged in the brawl as if the pin had just been pulled out of a grenade. The odds were slightly more evened out now that it was only two against two, but it was still somewhat difficult.

Both she and Khan were now in the middle of the hand-to-hand method, her moving around a little bit more to ensure she remained out of the grip of her opponent, as he was a muscular male which meant that the chances were higher of him being able to overpower her than the other way around, and this fresh-out-of-cryo man accompanying her relying more on the force of his attacks than on how much he himself moved. 

Khan exchanged facial punches with his own opponent, the ones directed at him having very little to no effect thanks to the enhancements in his physiology, while Zinalya dealt a roundhouse kick to the chest of hers; the impact knocked him back slightly, and Khan, meanwhile, eventually managed to defeat the one he was up against by grabbing one of said guard’s hands to keep it out of the way while the blow he dealt to the side of his head was hard enough to knock him out. 

The woman took advantage of hers being momentarily caught off guard by the amount of blows she, too, was dealing by tackling him to the floor, giving her the high ground for using her phaser on him.

"Are you alright?" The "superman" asked her now that this fight was over, her ever so quietly getting her breath back.

"Yeah." She nodded. "But something tells me there's going to be tons more of this yet to come before we get out of here."

The pair then took off again, this time at a run due to them suspecting that this time in which they were brawling could have been enough for something like a dozen more guards to have been alerted via the scientist they’d seen a minute ago. Although they’d both had frequent experience before in fast-paced and combat-involving situations like this one, and despite this threat of yet more looming opponents, Zinalya and Khan were unable to ignore the thrill of it as the air they sprinted through also passed through their hair.

"You were right - I believe the word for the number here is indeed 'tons' as you said." Khan commented as upon turning another corner, they were now heading straight towards a large horde of security personnel: there had to be about a dozen and a half in front of them at least.

Zin wanted to say the words "Oh god" out loud very badly, but she knew that would only serve as encouragement for the feeling of dread in the pit of her belly to grow, which had just sparked to life at this second when the man in black alongside her spoke; after all, perhaps the most difficult and trying part of the whole plan was about to commence, so the last thing she needed right now was for the burst of confidence pulsating through her veins to subside even slightly. The two ran headlong towards this horde, bringing their A-games within themselves online in just a matter of a second and a half, and then there came the frenzied brawling again. 

This fight as a whole was mostly a blur, so they carried out most of these actions before they were even fully registered in their minds, but the pair made use of both hand-to-hand and phaser-based combat, Khan relying more on the former once again and Zinalya, like a minute ago, predominantly making use of the latter.

She'd still never let go of the unfairness of what she'd been put through because of him being taken away and kept in his forced coma for "justice" - her hatred of how she'd been subjected for a long while to her future being ripped away from her - as despite everything he'd done, no one deserved to be put through the despair she'd had, and even for these crimes he'd committed she still, as clearly as two years ago, understood how he'd been slowly driven into it by others. So, as a result of this unwavering irritation, she allowed herself to let loose on these guards she and him were up against. It fuelled her frenzied attacks and combat moves, providing a little bit of extra assistance to her in the fight. She wasn't killing any of them, but she'd been looking forward to this part for a long time: getting to well and truly unleash her anger physically, as if she were getting revenge for the injustice done to her by bureaucrats who couldn't be bothered to look past Khan's exterior and were determined to only see the worst in him. 

The Federation court had wronged her, and if she wasn't going to stand up for what she believed in and take the matter into her own hands then who else would?

"Watch your flank!" Shouted Khan over all the noise, while currently in the middle of ducking and diving around the incoming phaser fire and holding off their opponents near to him with brutal punches and kicks, some of these kicks sending their targets flying thanks to his heightened strength. Upon hearing this, Zin looked around her sides and saw that, as he'd just warned, another guard was in the middle of rushing her. She had a split second, while still keeping track of the other chaos she was up against, to pull out her second phaser, and she managed to stun this guard right as his face came within three inches of her own. The Augment, although he, too, was still keeping track of the multiple enemies he was brawling with, couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration from watching as Zinalya then began to take down a little bit over half of the opponents around her with the twin phasers she had in her hands, twirling on the spot and making her hair fly around her head as a result while shots from these phasers flew in all directions. An angel of destruction. Khan, feeling like it was all somehow taking place both sped up and in slow motion at the same time, was sure that until now combat had never looked quite so beautiful.

"You sure you can get him?" A scientist asked another of his coworkers in white tunics, a woman holding a hypospray, with both of them hiding behind one of the walls at the corner back along the corridor which the hybrid commander and the prisoner had turned a minute or so ago to get to where they were now. "If you miss he's not going to give you a second chance." This male scientist looked the female next to him straight in the eyes.

"I know what I’m doing. I can get him as long as he’s still distracted." She looked back up at her masculine counterpart as she gave this reply of reassurance, and she then looked over her shoulder at Khan, still in the middle of his and Zin’s fight against the guard horde, and began to take a few steps of trepidation down the hallway towards him.

This group had now mostly been taken down except for a few, who were still battling the pair. Zinalya’s hair was now somewhat more dishevelled in a few places and there was a thin trail of blood trickling down from one side of her forehead, while some strands of Khan’s own jet black hair, although he didn’t seem to be visibly injured, hung over the top of his forehead. She hadn’t noticed this bleeding from her forehead, but Zin carried on with her frenzy of switching between using phaser fire and brute force, until, before she even fully realised it, all of her own opponents were down. 

And then, as she watched Khan finally defeat his last one by knocking him out across the head with the butt of the rifle he’d managed to snatch away, the sting from this injury came flooding into her senses, as if all the action of the moment had been some kind of non-medical anaesthetic.

"You’ve been hurt." He observed out of both concern and irritation at this being done to Zinalya, turning to face her and stepping closer to her, going around the dozen unconscious bodies surrounding them both, so as to inspect it further.

She put away her phasers back into the pockets of her dress uniform, the sleeves being a little bit torn after all the fighting so far, and used the fingers of her right hand to feel at the blood on this side of her forehead. "Oh yeah. They must’ve hit me pretty hard." Upon lightly pressing her fingers to it, the stinging intensified instantaneously, making her wince and pull her hand away again just as quickly. "I’ll be fine though, it’s nothing serious." 

She took a quick look down at her timer watch: a little bit under three and a half minutes left to get out of there. The tingling feeling deep in her stomach sparked back into life at the sight of this remaining time, while she was additionally getting her breath back.

"We should keep moving, so that we can still ensure we keep ahead of the countdown." As he said this upon noticing the same thing, the female scientist behind them with the hypospray had crept forwards a little bit while the male one had ran off to assist some of the others with checking on the boot-up of the surveillance system’s backup energy supply. 

She was hiding behind another wall a few meters away, planning on injecting Khan with the hypo’s contents by running at him, because she and her coworkers were all aware of the specifications regarding the abilities he possessed: one of these was the ability for him to hear heartbeats from up to ten meters away, so she was keeping this distance at this moment in time in order to stay off of his radar, so as to speak, before she would run towards him.

"I think we’re something like two thirds of the way through now." Zinalya nodded in concurrence with his point, immediately afterwards momentarily turning her head just enough to see the scientist with the hypospray sprinting towards them at lightning speed, at which point she was only five or six feet away from the pair. 

Without thinking, Zin’s eyes widened in surprise and she leapt in front of Khan, whose attention was now grabbed by what was going on, right as the other woman in the white tunic would’ve thrown the tip of the hypospray to his neck and injected the contents into his body. In that single quarter of a second, it instead ended up happening to Zinalya due to this young officer’s sudden intervention. Almost immediately after the fluid from the hypospray entered her bloodstream through her own neck, she fell limply to the floor like a discarded coat, her eyelids mostly closing before they were fully shut a couple of seconds later.

"No. No..." Said Khan, to no one in particular as he caught her body in his arms when she fell, watching this closing of her eyes and the vanishing of her consciousness. 

In that moment, he felt a sense of helplessness at the fact that he’d been unable to prevent this - as if he were ultimately unable to protect Zinalya - but what also came into being in his mind and in the shining blue of his eyes was another, stronger wave of anger towards the scientist who’d done this, and who was looking with shock at the one with the burgundy hair who she’d ended up getting instead of her intended target. "What was that?" He raised his voice as he looked at the empty hypo in the scientist’s hand and then directly at her eyes, gently setting down Zin’s sleeping form before gripping the former’s neck in both of his hands, holding her up against the wall. "What have you just done to her?" Even though he was shouting, there was still a small level of restraint to it - a blend of calmness and rage which made him come across as even more intimidating.

"She’s okay, it’s a sedative, so she’ll just sleep for a few days!" The scientist gave her best look of defiance despite the predicament she now found herself in: being held up against a cold, hard wall with hands around her neck by a genetically engineered man who, in her eyes and like the view that most others there at Sierra-Lambda 3 took on the matter, was a terrorist without a heart. Was he going to kill her?

There was the silence of a pause for a few seconds. "Your name. What is it?" This time his voice contained more calmness, only having a non-direct edge of aggression to it.

"Baxter. I’m Dr. Helen Baxter."

"Would I be correct to guess that the sedative was meant for me instead of her, doctor?" He kept this aggressive edge in it, but his tone predominantly made a return to its natural, baritone state.

"Yes, it was meant for you." Baxter did her best to nod her head with this response, realising around that moment that she was indeed heavily scared. "But you’ll never get out of here - if not me then somebody else’ll manage to subdue you! And she’ll just be arrested!"

"If you’re making an attempt to dissuade me from leaving this place with her then I’m afraid to tell you that attempt is notworking, Miss Baxter." Khan retorted. He momentarily loosened his grip on her neck so as to use his right hand to hit her hard on the side of the head, rendering her, too, unconscious after letting out a gasp at the impact. 

He then turned his attention back towards the still also sleeping Zinalya, turning around and gingerly picking her up off of the floor; she was non-enhanced, a member of what his fellow Augments with extreme anti-human views back in the 1990s had dubbed "the common herd", and this meant that compared to him, Zin was fragile. He might’ve been the one with the porcelain skin, but in his much stronger arms, she was the one with the body structure of porcelain. "Zinalya has just been sedated." He spoke into the communicator which he pulled out of one of her pockets and which he then flipped open.

"What? What happened?" Iadras’ voice of his own concern came from the other end.

"We were ambushed by a doctor who attempted to inject me with it instead, most likely in order to subdue me for returning me to my cryogenic tube. I’m going to continue through the facility and make my way outside by carrying her with me." 

He hoisted her body up so that, while still holding up her communicator with his right hand, her head was on his left shoulder and his left arm was beneath her waist, holding her up. There was barely any strenuous effort required, as his above-mentioned Augment strength allowed him to lift up a person much more easily.

"Do you want me to have a medical team ready to counteract it?" Offered the voice of the fully Trill man.

"If you could, yes. She’s additionally been injured on the side of her head, so that will be doubly useful."

"Fair enough - give me another update once you make it out." Said Iadras.

"I will." With that, he flipped the communicator closed again and put it into one of his own pockets, before using that hand to lift up Zinalya’s limp left hand for looking at her timer watch. One minute and fifty-two seconds remaining. With her still being carried by him, Khan took off down the corridor at his fastest running speed.

[english-y]

Final Draft

Probably...

Sofhia J. Jaime

J. Doyle

ENGL 1302-70L

2020/09/27

Fan Fiction Writing

     ‘FanFiction’ is defined to be, “Fiction written by a fan of, and featuring characters from, particular TV series, movie, etc.” according to the Oxford languages website while true, fanfiction is much more than that. Fanfiction is the creation of alternate universes, plots, characters, characterizations, and many other aspects of popular books, shows, movies, etc.  these authors rewrite stories or continue them after their final conclusion. With that comes a lot of work, considering the high demand for this type of media. Websites such as AOS, Tumblr, WattPad, FanFiction.net, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and a plethora of other pages that thrive from this form of entertainment. Authors of these works often gain a massive following on their social media as the popularity for this medium grows. Sometimes the final writings are more complex than its original, currently the longest fanfiction in existence have 4,102,217 words and 220 chapter which are still being regularly updated. Yet, most often fan fiction is disregarded and frowned upon by the majority of readers(!). Fanfiction carries a prejudice that unfortunately discredits the author and the work as a whole. Commonly, it is believed to be the work of desperate teens from the ages 13+ who over romanticize book characters, movie characters or people in the public eye. Though this essay I want to explore the reality of this type of writing and how its misrepresentation causes it to be devalued at surface level even though this writing has shown bountiful benefits to aspiring authors.

     In Not All Those Who Wonder are Lost by Cecilia Aragon she found that most authors who write fanfiction felt similarly “Many of the authors we interviewed admitted they started off as poor writers but said they’d improved enough to consider writing professionally.” Three of the authors that I had interviewed planned on authoring their own novels and all three of them have their stories already in the making. In fact, Admin Kim of RightSockJin has her story already written but as a fanfiction she plans on editing it to form it into a cohesive novel of which she would like to publish. Also, Shannon of Kpopfanfictiontrash she is working on her young adult novel with hopes to publish soon.

     “The most recent report from the National Assessment of Educational Progress indicated that 73% of US students in grades 8 and 12 lack proficiency in writing.” Maybe instead of overlooking medium we could use it to help students work on their writing, show them how to develop plot by dissecting a prewritten story and writing it in their own likeness. We could even help students develop a writing style by having them mimic the style of an established author. There is so much we can do to help interest students and interest them in writing but the masses refuse to look passed the surface of fanfiction reading and writing.

      Recently, my friends and I have started a blog where we upload our personal writing. From what I have noticed, my writing has matured substantially. My characterization, vocabulary, problem solving skills, and many other aspects of this creative medium have grown to something I am prouder to show. Even though I do not plan to pursue a career in writing this has given me to confidence I need for general writing, for schoolwork and for jobs I hope to obtain in the future. Growing up I never enjoyed reading or writing, I was insecure about my abilities because I grew up bilingual, which caused some teachers to treat me unfairly  The friends who are writing alongside me do plan on publishing novels, and through this type of writing I have noticed that they were able to polish their skills and develop a writing style. Though, I have noticed that they have not been able to feely talk about their writing because people do not take their writing seriously because it is fanfiction.

     I was able to conduct a survey asking people about their opinions concerning fanfiction. From what I have gathered most people are turned off by what they perceive fanfiction to be.

      Out of all of the people who have taken the survey the majority did enjoy reading. Though I know reading does not necessarily mean reading books, there is a wide variety of writings that are accessible to consumers The most popular types of readings were Book and novels and comics. Which I found interesting considering the fact that those works are typically taken and used as inspiration of fanfiction. Still, most of the people who took the survey have not read and do not want to read fanfiction.

     Seventy percent of the group had not read any fanfiction and had given the media a negative connotation without actually having read though any of the works. When asked about what they had hears about the writings a lot of the times they expressed hearing “not a lot of appropriate things” someone even called it “cringe” and just decided they did not want to give fanfiction a chance.

     My goal is to show the reality of fanfiction to readers and authors who overlook these works of fiction because they bring more benefit to those who consume and create these. I was able to ask a few more established authors on Tumblr, for their background and their opinion of the stigma surrounding this media, their personal opinion, and a little information regarding their positionality. On my Tumblr I direct messages a few of my favorite writers out of the twenty I ask only five answered. Even though the turnout was not the best I was still able to get some really good insight from authors of different backgrounds. I was able to talk to was Shanna of Kpopfanfictiontrash, Sol of jamaisjoons, Traci of cupofteaguk, Admin Kim,  Admin Calico Admin AdMin from rightsockjin and lasty Athena from GoddessAthean on Wattpad.

      First I was able to talk to Shanna from Kpopfanfictiontrash (late 20’s) and comes a Caucasian background. She has been writing for around six years and at the moment she works as a businesswoman. Soon after I talked to Sol admin of the Tumblr jamaisjoons (22yrs) writer that comes from an Indian background, she has been writing for around seven years, but she is currently working as an accountant. I was also able to get in contact with Traci (23yrs) Asian-American fanfiction author with around ten years of experience who writes on the cupofteaguk tumblr blog, she is currently studying Communications in college. Lastly, I got to talk to all of the three writers in the Rightsockjin blog. Admin Kim who is a twenty-one and working as a teacher with a Hispanic/Mexican background, she has been writing for 12 years and lastly Admin Calico (19), who is a full time student working on an English Major who also is from a Hispanic/Mexican background who has had over ten years and Admin AdMin(19) who is a Computer Science major who had been writing for seven years. Lastly, I was able to talk to Athena (19) a Hispanic who writes under the AthenaGodess pseudonym who is also a Computer Science major and has been writing for around four years.

     I was able to have talk to all of the authors and get their individual opinions of their work, the writings they’ve read, and the perspective about this creative medium. I wanted to know that their work actually meant to them. Traci expressed that she “really [enjoys] writing fan fiction because it’s a form of expression...”. More than fifty percent of the authors mentioned self-expression, this medium is an easy to show the inner turmoil that in the mind of the author. Often, these writers show more vulnerable and intimate part of themselves. Personally, I love to write about my ideal relationship because I have had some really terrible experiences with relationships. Aside from using this as a way to vent her creativity it has helped her with her academic writing. “Allowing myself to write on a daily basis also helps hone in on my writing skills, which can be applied to professional situations or school assignments.”

     I also asked about their opinion on the stereotypes and stigma surrounding fanfiction and how it affects them. Shana gave me an interesting perspective, “I think most stereotypes are rooted in a general lack of understanding. I do write fanfiction based off a musical artist, so my male lead character may contain some of their features and personality traits. I don’t necessarily have to create these aspects myself. Everything else I do. The plot of the story. The side characters and romantic interests. The setting, the world-building. The dialogue and description and everything in between – that exists nowhere but in my own mind. I would also say there’s an equal, but different challenge to writing based off something which already exists. It requires greater research, perception and understanding than simply creating something out of thin air.” Which correlated from my previous research, most people who have not even read fanfiction just refuse to even look into the medium. When I asked specifically about the stigma Sol stated “There [is] an assumption that most fanfic writers are young 12-16-year-olds and while that’s true sometimes, there’s actually a higher percentage of authors who are 18+, especially ranging from 22-30.” Which while there may be young authors the majority according to my studies range higher than eighteen years of age.

     In my own experience and research, I found that authors find solace in their writing. Sometimes these writers come from some unfortunate situations which cause them to look for succor, so they write out their ideal life in these fictions. I went through a trauma with my first boyfriend which caused me to fall into a depression. I began to journal, which lead me to write out scenarios that made me feel better. Even though my writing was not explicitly fanfiction this bit of writing led me to create a fanfiction blog. This, in a way, allowed me to rehabilitate myself out of my slump and get myself to get back to a more positive form of thinking, my writing gave me hope where I before I saw none. Alongside me psyche my writing improved significantly. I started to get better grades in my AP English classes during high school, then my writing for my college classes became something I enjoyed. A subject that I once dreaded became something I looked forward to doing.

     This form of media seems to get less credit than it is worth but in reality, these works can be equally, and sometimes more intricate than their original works. Unfortunately, because it was not written by a credible source the writing is disregarded. Instead of sending negativity to these aspiring authors we should encourage their development with positive engagement and constructive criticism, so they feel encouraged to supplying their audience with their work and so they can continue to develop their skill and style.

Works Cited

Aragon, Cecilia. “Not All Those Who Wonder Are Lost.” MIT Technology Review, vol. 123, no. 1, Jan. 2020, pp. 44–47. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=ip,shib&db=a9h&AN=140364555&site=ehost-live.

 @rightsockjin​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @cupofteaguk​ @jamaisjoons​

[theangelssecondwing]

Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter contains potentially very triggering content, including syringes, forced sedation, medical abuse and mentions of a forced medical examination. Reader discretion is advised.

The next day, Rufus called me into his office. Once the door was closed behind me, he motioned for me to sit down. I tried to read his expression, but it was completely neutral. „Any news?", he asked. „Sephiroth, Angeal and Zack are currently at the reactor in Sector 5 to investigate it. I stayed behind because Sephiroth feared that it could be too dangerous for a civilian. If Hollander did have a secret lab at the reactor, there‘s a high chance that it‘s infested with monsters after being abandoned for so long." „It's good to know that he takes your safety into consideration. But I didn't just call you here to ask for updates. I also meant to discuss your employment at the company with you." „Oh?" My stomach tensed up. „I plan to make some modifications to your contract. Namely that you become my direct subordinate." I let that information sink in for a moment. „And what exactly does that mean for me?" Rufus sat back. „It means that from this moment onward, you will only take orders from me. Nobody else. See it as a promotion to my personal assistant." That's where I got suspicious. „And what exactly did I do to deserve that promotion?" „You got involved with the search for Genesis. Some may see this as you sticking your nose in matters that don't concern you, but considering how little interest the people actually tasked with finding him have shown, your efforts are appreciated." Then he leaned over the table. „And I want to make sure that you're safe. Your relationship with Sephiroth has drawn some unwanted attention to you. Since the topic of our possible engagement is off the table, my father has little interest in keeping you safe, and Sephiroth can't always be by your side." Suddenly, I felt dizzy. „Unwanted attention?" Rufus nodded grimly. „A lot of it. From different people. Jealous fans are the least of your problems, though I assure you that I will take disciplinary action against anyone who harrasses you from now on. Some people believe that your relationship makes Sephiroth too soft, or distracts him from his work. Then there‘s a lot of people have a bone to pick with Sephiroth and will not hesitate to attack those close to him because of it. And of course, there‘s a certain scientist who has shown a very disconcerting degree of interest in you and the nature of your relationship to Sephiroth." I stared at my hands, curled into fists so tightly that I could see the white of my knuckles umderneath the skin. „...I see." Rufus sat back again. „So, as I said: you are my employee now. You will only follow my orders. If someone else tries to claim that they are a messenger from me, you are to contact me to confirm that. Here…" He slid a piece of paper over the table to me. „...my private cellphone number." I picked up the paper and stared at it for a moment. „...You do realize that our fathers will completely misinterpret this, right?“ Rufus nodded. „I‘m quite aware of that. But right now, your safety is more important than both our pride.“ He smiled, but it seemed strained. „We may have drifted apart with the years, but I never stopped caring about you.“ That caused my chest to grow warm with affection. And my eyes to sting with tears. „Thank you, Rufus. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?“ „One more thing." He got up, walked around the table and pulled at my cheek, with a smile that bore a striking resemblance to the boy he had once been. "It's good to have you back."

To say that I was elated when I left Rufus‘ office would have been a massive understatement. I felt like I shouldn‘t trust this situation. Everything was just going so right. I was dating the man of my dreams, I got my best friend back, the only thing that still needed to be fixed was the issue with Genesis. My delight should be short-lived, however. Since Rufus hadn‘t given me a task yet, I wanted to get down to the archives again, hoping to find some more information on Hollander and his projects. However, on my way there, I ran into Hojo, now Shinra‘s top scientist. I had seen him before, but only from a distance. Hojo only rarely associated with people he deemed to be of inferior intellect, and if that was the case, I was quite grateful for that. This man just radiated a syrup-thick aura that screamed „RUN“. He was middle aged, maybe late forties to mid-fifties, and always hunched over, making him look much older. The first wrinkles showed on his face, and his long, greasy black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He was carrying a clipboard in one hand, a pen in his other, like he was in the middle of taking notes on something. But he wasn‘t looking at the board. His razor-sharp eyes focused on me through the thick lenses of his glasses. The first time he directly looked at me, and I felt the overwhelming urge to turn back and run. „Ms. Hunter, I presume?“, he asked, looking me over in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. „That‘s me. Anything I can do for you?“, I asked, trying my very best to be polite. He didn‘t answer. He just mumbled something to himself and made a note on the clipboard. I could have sworn that he mentioned Sephiroth in his murmuring, but I bit my lip instead of asking. Then he walked a circle around me, as if to assess me from all sides, occasionally stopping to scribble something down. All while mumbling to himself. „Ex...cuse me, but what are you doing?“, I asked, still straining to stay calm. „You wouldn‘t understand it anyway. So there‘s no need for me to explain it to you.“ Then he reached to touch my hair. I twitched back and snapped:„Hands off!“ He looked at me as if I had two heads. Then he shook his head and mumbled:„I hate it when they‘re being so difficult.“ before making another note. „Well, Ms. Hunter, I must ask you to follow me to the laboratories. For the sake of… a routine examination.“ „Strange. There hasn‘t been any announcement of a ‚routine examination‘.“ I was shaking and just wanted to leave. How much of an idiot did this guy take me for? He wasn‘t a physician. Everyone knew he wasn‘t. Hojo‘s eyes flashed up again, and the predatory grin on his face really didn‘t help my state of mind. Did that guy even know how damn creepy he was? „You probably just missed it. Now come along.“ I shook my head and took a few more steps back. My entire system was in overdrive, and I felt almost dizzy from the adrenaline. Shit. Where to now? Back to Rufus? To my father? Before I could come to a decision, Hojo just grabbed my wrist. For someone so meager, he was surprisingly strong. And without paying any attention to my protests, he began dragging me down the hallway, to the laboratories.

„Sedate this one“, he ordered one of his assistants once the blurred glass doors of the lab closed behind us. To my great misfortune, we hadn‘t met anyone I could have asked for help on our way. The assistants stared at me. „Professor, she‘s the daughter of one of the president‘s wealthiest business partners. President Shinra will have our heads if he finds out we‘ve been conducting experiments on her.“ „Progress demands sacrifices. If you can‘t live with that, you‘re in the wrong profession.“ With that, he dragged me over to an operating table, while one of the assistants approached with a syringe. „Fuck this“, I hissed and tried to wiggle myself free, even tried to kick Hojo‘s shin but it was no use. The sharp pain of the needle shot through my arm, and then everything became hazy. „Put her on the table. We will begin-“ The door to the lab was kicked open with so much force that the glass shattered. Then there was yelling. Security storming in. That was the last thing I remembered.

When I woke up, I didn‘t know what had happened at first. I was dizzy, and there was this annoying humming in my head. I wanted to rub my eyes, to help me regain my vision faster, but my movements were painfully slow. But everything around me soon became much clearer, and I recognized Sephiroth‘s worried face just inches away from mine. „You‘re awake!“ He sounded so relieved. „When we came back and were told that Hojo dragged you off, we feared the worst.“ „Sephiroth.“ I reached up to touch his face, but my arm was shaking, as if the muscle couldn‘t carry its own weight anymore. He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. „Where‘s Hojo?“ Even though I was still sluggish and barely conscious from the after-effects of the sedative, I couldn‘t wait to get up and chocke this bastard with my own two hands... „He‘s been arrested.“ Sephiroth gently rubbed my temples. Another voice spoke, but I couldn‘t hear it properly. Sephiroth looked up and nodded, and then looked at me again. „Cora, your father is here, too. He came here as soon as he could.“ I turned my head and looked at my father. He was white as a sheet, holding my limp hand in his. And now I slowly realized that I was in a hospital bed. A third voice spoke, one that I was now awake enough to identify. Rufus. „I‘m terribly sorry that his happened“, he said. „It shouldn‘t have happened.“ „You‘re damn right it shouldn‘t!“, my father barked. „Your pet scientist could have killed my daughter! I want to see him bleed for that!“ „Unfortunately, it‘s not that easy“, Rufus replied. „Hojo is the top scientist of Shinra, and plays a leading role in many of our projects. My father won‘t just let him go like that.“ „Top scientist? Please, the man can‘t tell one mammal from another“, Sephiroth murmured, his hands tensing up. „I support Mr. Hunter‘s wish for justice. Who knows what would have happened to Cora if we hadn‘t found her in time.“ „You should keep your mouth shut, young man!“, my father snapped. „This is all your fault. Hojo was only interested in her because of you! We found his notes, and they were all about what could have possibly made her attractive to you, and how they could use that to… to...“ My father‘s face was red as a lobster at that point. „I told her it was a dumb idea to get involved with you!“ „Enough!“, I finally said somewhat clearly. „None of this is Sephiroth‘s fault. You‘re just looking for another excuse to try and break us up.“ The words didn‘t come out as sharply as I would have liked them to, but my father seemed to understand the tone anyway. He took a deep breath and left the room.

[eltanin-malfoy]

Eye For An Eye (Kill Or Be Killed II)

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

word count : 4.1k

warnings : angst, mentions of murder/poisoning/sex, swearing, smoking

Chapter 1

a/n : any and all feedback is highly appreciated. requests are still open! s/o to @unpeustupide for being a great editor!!!!

Chapter 2 : Eye For An Eye

He’d thought of rushing out after her as she’d been exiting before, but no, that was an awful idea. He did not need the girl assuming him to be some kind of a stalker pursuing her at night, which, after noticing her feisty nature, would likely lead to one of two negative outcomes : 1. She decides to attack him with her umbrella (he could subdue her, for sure, but his skin was sensitive, he didn’t want the bruising to stick out on him like a sore thumb for officers to identify later), or 2. She calls the police (he could attempt to knock her out if she did, but he wasn’t exactly into getting all messy that way, or in any kind of way. He was attempting to kill her with a heavy dosage of potassium chloride, to begin with. Cleanest way possible). So he headed right back to the Employee’s Only room, pouring himself a cup of black coffee and feeling smug at his own genius. Experience really is the best teacher.

Right after his shift, he’d walked home, her name on his lips. He’d whispered it a couple times, any passing stranger might’ve even thought the boy was in love with a Y/N.. but they couldn’t be more wrong, could they? He’d continued to think about her, tried to figure out where she lived, or anywhere else she spent her hours. She’s a student. He thought, puffing on yet another cigarette as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, fiddling with the edge of his coat with his free hand. A university student, right? Didn’t look like a schoolgirl to me. Wasn’t even wearing a uniform to begin with.

He stepped out onto the fourth floor, walking towards his very luxurious place of residence. Sigh. The loud hip hop music playing in his neighbour’s house pounded out as he walked across. He tossed the used cigarette butt in his fingers to the side and delved his hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling his house key out. He walked over to the last door on the floor, quickly reaching to unlock it. He stepped in and covered his left ear, flinching slightly as the pounding got even louder. He walked away from the wall he very unfortunately shared with them and quickly locked the door behind him.

He then scoped out his apartment (not.. very small, just the one bedroom, couch, sub-standard television and a tiny kitchen) to make sure there had been nothing shifted around since he’d left. A necessary precaution, since not only was his landlord notorious for being very nosy, but also venturing into a career path as risky as he was planning to was not without its many, many risks. He then walked over to his (very uncomfortable) bed, pulling off his bulky coat and pacing around a bit.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with the girl’s name. It was easy enough to remember it, to write it down in his notebook, to look it up on the internet (on Incognito mode, of course!)… but it wasn’t easy to figure out who she was, exactly, or what way would be easiest for him to get at her. Could just push her into oncoming traffic or something.. No need for the chemicals and everything, seen how easily she falls.  A smile crept its way onto his face as he stared out the window facing the rickety study table he’d somehow managed to buy for his apartment. He shook his head. No. No, it’s too easy. I want to see the light escape her eyes. At first, holding on like as if onto some stray rocks onto a cliff side. I want to see her fight with herself. For her to want to slip away. I want to win.

But how?

He pinched his nose bridge as his brain clouded up with thoughts. How many universities are there around here to begin with? He hesitated, sitting up straight and fiddling with the pale blonde mop of hair on his head nervously. Who’s to say she’s a student at all? Can’t just jump to conclusions like that.. could just fancy carrying backpacks. He shifted towards the side, gaze travelling over the many cracks on the wall. I don’t recall her having a backpack in the supermarket.. so, again, probably a student.

But if she’s a student, she’s got to have somebody paying her fees, right? He furrowed his brows, a bit confused. Oh come on, you can’t go soft just like that.. She’s clearly an awful person, right? All three minutes you’ve managed to see her, she’s shown off nothing but her lack of empathy. Besides, you just need to make sure she isn’t.. well connected. Just separated enough from everyone in her life for no one to notice after she’s been missing for a few weeks. Or months, if that’s possible. He knew this was for him.

Unable to make much progress in that instance, he decided to give it a break and take another fix of nicotine. He got up and eased onto his bed, reaching over into his coat to take out the same pack and his beloved lighter. He then kicked off his shoes, bringing his legs up next to himself. He quickly ignited another cigarette and got up, walking over to the table to stare at the street below. It’s almost December anyways. University final exams have been over a week or so already. She’s either still living at her dorm, which would be.. hard to work around, or has her own apartment, hopefully without a roommate. Or, her roommate may have gone home while she stayed.. or.. maybe she’s home from uni? How the fuck am I supposed to tell-

No sooner had he lit the last cigarette in the pack that all of a sudden, his neighbour actually turned off that goddamn cacophony. Somehow, the silence surprised him. W-what’s happening? It hasn’t been this quiet all fifty days since I moved in! He heard their front door opening and couldn’t help but listen in to what was going on. Not exactly his fault the walls were that thin.

“Seriously? You’re here to see me now? Do you not understand anything about boundaries?” His neighbour’s voice was.. quite loud, to say the least. It was almost louder than the awful music he chose to play at all hours of the night. “Seriously, Cormac? You haven’t returned a single call or text I’ve sent you this whole week! And the last.” The girl’s voice struck out to him like a bullet.

“Y/N, I’ve just been busy.. You know me, baby.” His voice was a bit softer this time, possibly growing afraid in front of that she-devil.

“Oh, shut up. We both know you’ve just been ignoring me. Did you really think you could end.. this by ghosting me?” Her voice rose an octave as she voiced the second part of her question.

“Well.. come on, I wasn’t ghosting you. I just.. forgot to check my messages.”

Draco could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Just.. stop it. Do you really think I’m that daft? Goddammit! Maybe I am, can’t believe I gave you even a second of my life. You really are as big of an asshole as everyone says you are!”  

“You can’t just.. come to my house and insult me!” He exclaimed.

“You can’t just treat a girl like a used tissue paper.” She shot back.. Shit. “And I’ll bet you’d still text me in a couple of nights when you felt horny again, you bastard!”

One of them then hit the wall they shared and Draco sprung back slightly, not realising how close he’d moved in to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Fine then, if that’s what you’d like to believe!” Cormac yelled.

“You don’t get to act like the victim, you fucking bastard. Why don’t you go cry in the lap of whichever girl you’ve slept with?” She roared and one of them paced off quickly, walking to the door.

Draco decided to follow along, but trying to come up with a way to piece together a conversation through which he could try and interrogate his neighbour so as to find out as much as possible about his ex. Wait, she bought something for a car. That means she’ll be driving out of here soon.. never mind, there is no parking lot in this sketchy neighbourhood. He shook his head, walking over to his front door, staring out of the small peephole and at the hallway in front of him. He did, in fact, manage to get a good look at this prospective victim.

“If you have a shred of self-respect, don’t you ever contact me again!!” She cried out, kicking the wall to the side of his neighbour’s door, then flinching back slightly in pain. Dumb bitch.

“I will not, you clingy bitch!” Cormac returned, which led to her bringing her palm up and smacking it across his face, leaving a red streak over his cheek. Draco had a sudden sense of deja vu, as though from a dream, or another life..

“I have nothing more to say to you.. “ She grit her teeth and began walking to the staircase, not showing any sign of weakness in that moment. ‘Cormac’ was still holding his cheek, clearly in pain after her attack. The lad even opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He deserved that, but, is she really always this violent? Would make it hard to take her down like that..

He quickly walked back over to his bedroom, staring out the window as he awaited her final exit. He reached over and turned off the light, realising that this would be a very good way for her to realise that he was watching her. He watched her step out, shivering slightly in the cold as she crossed her arms. He finally took the last and final puff of his cigarette, and let out a good long exhale. He tossed the cigarette butt out the window, which prompted a soft noise. Y/N turned around at this and even looked up. Her gaze somehow preemptively travelled upwards, staring at the fourth floor windows before pausing for a second at Draco’s own. She squinted slightly and stared down at the floor, before heading off again.

Damn it.

People.

He quickly headed back to his front door and peered out, smiling to himself as he caught a glance of Cormac still stood there silently, for some reason waiting for her to return. He opened the door and proceeded to lay it on thick. The Malfoys were known for being sly after all, and he kind of felt like acting for a bit, anyway.

“Hey, mate. Couldn’t help but hear what just went down.. You doing alright there?”

Cormac’s flushed a bit at this, obviously embarrassed at the way his new neighbour had come to know of him. “Hey.. I.. yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He paused for a second, sizing him up. Maybe he’s a little intimidated. Draco could feel how awkward it was getting and decided to take care of that himself. He walked over to his door and held out his hand for him to shake it.

“I’m Draco, some of my mates like to call me ‘Drago’, you know like dragon? Just poking at this huge fear of lizards.” Draco laughed to seem idiotic, yet ordinary. Wasn’t too hard, Cormac forced a giggle. What was he, a fucking schoolgirl? “Sorry I didn’t come to see you yet, moving has been a little tricky.”

Cormac slowly lifted his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet ya. I’m Cormac.” Yeah, I know. “When did you move in, actually? I hadn’t realised..”

“Couple months back. D’you wanna pop in for a beer? Looks like you might need one.” Cormac smirked at this.

“Could never say no to one of those.” Draco grinned and walked back over to his flat with him, opening the door and leading him in. Get him drunk. Get him talking. You can do this.

He took a deep breath.

***

A good hour of stale small talk later, Draco had enough information to have some sort of profile on her. As soon as Cormac headed out the door, Draco locked it behind him and trashed the bottles the bloke had taken upon himself to finish, while he threw out the one he’d decided to have. He decided to write everything up as quickly as possible, wanting to make sure he could get all that information on paper while it was still in his head.

Student at London School Of Business. (of course she picked the subject his father favoured the most!) Seems like she lives somewhere nearby though, wouldn’t be walking around in the middle of the night like that, not too far from campus. He even wrote ‘Ex said the only time he really liked her was when they fucked’ which Draco then decided to strike through. (Unnecessary and irrelevant to case!) Has a public Instagram profile - Oh fuck. He nearly hit follow. Wouldn’t that have been a fucking disaster. He just scrolled through all the food, frivolous spending, and countless other idiotic highlights of stupid Y/N and her stupid friends and her stupid life. He’s probably doing them all a huge favour.

But this was basically all he knew about her. Cormac was obviously uninterested in discussing his now ex, with whom he’d only been with a couple months, and would rather discuss recent soccer matches. Draco politely obliged with that, but was very, very happy to see him off when he finally decided to leave.

After writing everything up, Draco informed his manager that he’d pick up the late shift again the next day, setting out a plan to scope out his victim’s college campus and pick up on her schedule.

***

The next morning, Draco woke up bright and early to the sound of his stupid phone alarm going off. He reached over to turn it off and pulled his patchy quilt over his head, but then soon reminded himself of today’s mission. No. Not today. It’s time.

Draco had downloaded an app onto his phone last night. One that connected people happy to walk others’ dogs. Frankly, he didn’t give a flying fuck about dogs, but, he had to find a way to walk around the area without looking like a total creep. It worked. He managed to find someone nearby who wanted their beagle walked the next morning, so he reached out, and managed to arrange to pick it up at eight o’clock the next morning, which would hopefully be enough for him to make it to the campus in time for her to get there.

He was thinking of putting on a disguise too, but his plan was a bit.. immediate, so he didn’t exactly have a lot of time. He decided to skip his usual long hair routine, those expensive hair products one of the few luxuries he allowed himself to purchase. Instead, he decided to tuck his hair up behind a baseball cap. Not only was that totally uncharacteristic of him to wear, but it also seemed to perfectly mask one of his most striking features. He’d decided to go ahead and shave, however, wanting to hide any of that pale stubble that grew onto his face.

He didn’t exactly own any cosmetics, he’d thought it genuinely wasn’t for him, even after various female friends of his encouraged him to try it. Of course, before, it was also his dad who would clearly have disapproved, but even now, he didn’t understand why he would waste all that money.. in an effort to look better. I look just fine.. but.. I need to look different, for once. But, alas, there was no way for him to contour his face now and make it look even the littlest bit more pointed. No real way for him to color his skin to make him seem just a bit more tanned than he was. So, he decided to just busk it and bear it with a grin.

His clothes however, he decided to change up a bit. He didn’t own a lot of brightly colored clothing at all, and it was almost a joke among his old friends to tease him about how much he fancied wearing dark clothes. But good old Pansy, on his birthday earlier in the year, she’d taken it upon herself to brighten up his closet. She’d bought him a couple of floral patterned Hawaiian shirts, as well as a couple of multicolored sweaters. The Hawaiian shirts would look a tad out of fashion and probably even more weird out like this.. so, he settled on one of the sweaters. He even put on a pair of boxy sunglasses that would block out the greyish sapphire of his eyes.

My best features won’t be on display.. but it works for the cause, he decided, as he looked himself over in the mirror. He set his cap tight on his head and took a deep breath, walking over to his night stand to pick up his phone and wallet. Alright, time for the first step of your first mission. Don’t get too jittery. She’s just a girl. A very rude, annoying girl. He set them in his pocket and cleared up behind himself, tidying up his bed in an to attempt to shrug off his nerves.

Not to mention, stupid. He reminded himself as he stepped out.

***

He headed to his nearest convenience store after he got out, picking up a new pack of cigarettes. He lit one up to fill his insides with tar (rather than with doubt), and walked over to the dog’s owner’s place, engaging in some polite conversation and finally escorting the dog away. It was a small brown beagle, about two years old. The dog sniffed him up the moment he arrived, but Draco managed to get it out of the building without it noticing anything too weird about him.

He fixed his sunglasses one last time as he neared the campus, looking around a few times as the dog walked around and annoyed other pedestrians with its nosy snout. He checked out the map on his phone one last time before finally nearing the campus he’d been thinking about for most of the night.

He reached for yet another cigarette, but fumbled slightly, dropping the pack on the floor. As soon as he leaned down to pick it up, the goddamned dog decided to run up at someone and his leash fell out of Draco’s loose, shivering grasp. It’s the nicotine, THE NICOTINE.

The dog barked, almost in celebration, and continued across the campus, running along the lawns as Draco finally clutched the pack and ran off after him.

You’d never think something so small and annoying could be so fast. His heart began to race, almost uncharacteristically. He was an avid soccer player back in secondary school. He didn’t exactly have a low stamina. Suddenly, the dog stopped in its tracks, sniffing desperately at someone’s grey sneakers. He heard a soft giggle and froze himself, slowly looking up to lock eyes with… his own victim.

How’d this bitch managed to calm down the other? He thought to himself. She didn’t seem to recognise him, so he tried to keep up an act. She knelt down and began to stroke its head, drawing attention to her short, perfectly manicured nails. Fucking priss.

“Your dog is so cute.” She uttered, her voice all flowery and sweet for some reason. He gulped and bent slightly himself, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the mutt. “Thanks.. I agree.” He forced his voice to be a bit more gruff and raspy. Like one of those guys on WWE. She smiled and looked up at him again, almost curiously. “He’s a beagle, right?” He? “Uh.. yeah. Only two years old.” The dog made one of those soft, squeaking noises that made Draco cringe, but she looked at it with even more fondness.

“You’re such a sweet boy, so sweet.” She scratched between his ears and looked up at him again. “He really is. You’ve trained him so well.” He chuckled and felt his cheeks flush. What? You are really out of it today.“Hah.. thanks. He can be a bit annoying sometimes, though.” She just shrugged slightly. “Ah well, isn’t every boy?” She sighed, and Draco was suddenly reminded of last night’s events, which of course, this innocent dog owner knew nothing about. “I guess so.” He didn’t really know what to say at this point..

“But, you seem nice. Do you.. stay around here?” That same smile returned to her face and she fluttered her lashes. What is she doing? She just broke up with that prick last night. “I.. uh.. No.. j-just visiting a friend.”   He croaked out, reaching down and grabbing his leash. “Oh, um, alright. Nice to meet you.” She slowly stood up, smoothing out her hair. This allowed him to get a good look at what she had on : a thick purple turtleneck sweater and yet another pair of dark jeans. That same plaster from yesterday was visible through the fabric. “I should get going..” She started, looking down at the barking dog again. “Bye bye!” She waved at the animal, then up at him again, walking off. Draco did the same, albeit reluctantly.

He turned around and looked the other way, clenching his jaw. You can’t.. get friendly with your victim like that! Thank god she’s so dumb, otherwise she would’ve seen right through your shoddy disguise. The dog yipped again. Oh goddammit. He turned back towards Y/N to see her looking back at him, before flinching and walking off again. What is she doing? She didn’t recognise me. Oh fuck, or did she? She started off at a brisk pace, rounding the corner and walking to another building.

The dog decided it needed to empty its bladder, so it walked over to a brief patch of mud by the concrete to do its business. Draco followed and decided to wait at the position a few minutes, so he could continue and follow her to her first class.

Soon enough, it finished up and he lead it to a courtyard, where there were students sitting around and even perking up as they noticed the dog. Shit.. they’re just going to blow my cover.. I should get out of here. He turned to leave, pulling the dog quickly along with him.

*** Even though his trip to her university had been.. unsuccessful, he reassured himself. Thank god she feels the need to document so much about herself on social media. I’ll get more on her in no time. He headed back to the dog’s owner’s and returned it, lying and telling him he’d been an absolute angel. He rolled his eyes the instant he shut the door, quickly walking off and back to his place.

He decided to smoke a few more cigarettes in an attempt to de-stress and thought to walk down to his apartment building’s basement to kill time until his next shift. He walked past the wall of mailboxes for each of the many flats in the building and stopped as he realised there was something sticking out of his own. He didn’t have the key for it, but the haphazard way this envelope had been wedged in, it was clear he didn’t really need it. He tossed the cigarette in his hands to the side and reached to pull it out.

Careful.. He thought to himself, holding up the metal flap and drawing out the surprisingly light envelope. He wasn’t careful enough, though. The flap drew back alarmingly hard and pushed his hand out of the mailbox, leaving a slight cut on his finger. He drew his hand back and looked back at it, pressing it in an attempt to stop the slight bleeding.

He grabbed the envelope tightly in his bleeding hand and walked back up the stairs, hands in his pockets as he winced slightly in pain. He unlocked his door as fast as he could and walked inside, shutting it behind him as he walked over to his couch. He took a seat and looked the envelope over. Hmm… no return address or sender? That’s weird.

He opened it up, a small trickle of his blood down the side of the paper. He pulled out the letter, which was a single note folded in half. His fingers quickly unearthed the message inside, and he couldn’t help as the feeling of absolute shock flooded his mind, a crease furrowing in on his forehead as his eyes widened behind his dark shade.

Be careful, Malfoy. I can see you.

Chapter 3

[ultimaa]

Analyzing and theorizing about Shingeki no Kyojin

I can not avoid comparing the happenings of Shingeki no Kyojin with historical events, from the Roman Empire to World War II. In addition, the mythological content of the work also leads to a comparison with the beliefs of Classical Antiquity. At this point, I would like to talk about Ymir Fritz; However, before that... I need to tell you about the Roman Empire, specifically about its founding myth and what really happened.

Who has not heard of Romulus and Remus. The two brothers who started it all. The myth considers them children of Mars (the Greek Ares), god of war, who engendered them in Rhea Silvia. She was the daughter of Numitor, king of Alba Longa who had been overthrown by his brother Amulius. The mother had to abandon them, but the children were saved by Luperca, a wolf who suckled them. Then they were found and raised by a couple of pastors. The brothers discovered the nobility of their lineage and went to return Alba Longa to his grandfather Numitor.

They succeeded, but both wanted a city of their own. Then they had their differences. Romulus wished to build the city on the Palatine Hill, while Remus preferred the Aventine Hill. The only solution was to count vultures: Remo saw six, while Romulus saw twelve. The winner traced the limits of his city and assured that he would kill anyone who crossed them. Guess what? Remus was emboldened, entered the territory of his brother and Romulo fulfilled his word, becoming a fratricide.

That is the founding myth of Rome. Therefore, it does not correspond to reality. However, in Shingeki it could be. I explain. Each side has an idea about Ymir Fritz; The Marleyans considered that she agreed with the Devil, Eren Krueger believed that Ymir came into contact with the genesis of the matter and Onyankopon suggested that perhaps Ymir received his power from a divinity. Well, now think about everything I've told you, in Rome too: AND IF YMIR FRITZ DID NOT DEAL WITH THE DEMON, NEITHER ENTERED INTO CONTACT WITH THE ORIGIN OF EVERYTHING? What if everyone is wrong ... except Onyankopon? Ymir may have been the daughter of a god, like Romulus and Remus, becoming the first ruler of the House Fritz and the first ever titan shifter, in the same way that Romulus became the first king of Rome and the father of all Romans.

And if we mix myth with reality? Okay, let's say that Ymir has a divine origin, being a descendant of a deity. Well, what do we do with her people, the Erdians? The true origin of Rome is not found in a fraternal discussion; although it still is not clear,  everything points to this glorious civilization was the result of the union of different peoples, Latins, Sabines, Etruscans (being these the most advanced), etc, which were fighting each other. Romulus, as the first king, promulgated common laws and customs. Roman laws and customs. Maybe Ymir Fritz saw himself in the same situation: a potpourrí of people who did not understand each other, who were enemies or who had been enemies, but who were under the charge of the same person. At this point, Ymir would do the same as Romulo and create a common culture with characteristics of each nation.

The Romans contributed much to architecture, art, politics and all areas of life. They built bridges, forums, basilicas, circuses, etc. They were practical people who sought the public utility of their buildings. Does not this remind you of what Grisha Jaeger said about Ymir and her people? Grisha was convinced that Ymir built bridges, sowed the fields, etc; in general, Jaeger believed that Ymir Fritz made mankind prosper, just as the Romans did.

I think frankly that Ymir brought a lot of progress and a time of splendor ...

... but I also believe that Erdia had to fight many wars.

I mentioned the Etruscans before. These allied with other peoples to fight against Rome, but were defeated and absorbed by the Romans. The same thing happened to Marley; they had nothing to do with a power like Ancient Erdia. However, when civil wars struck the Erdian Empire, they took advantage of and took control of the continent. They had defeated the infamous Erdians, who had done them so much harm! I do not doubt that the Erdians behaved brutally with the Marleyans, but we all know that no nation has conquered another with kisses and roses. The Marleyans could only see the pain of their homeland, but NOT the great advances that Ymir had promoted. They were blind with hatred and resentment (something that is understandable, because no one wants to be conquered) and they gave their truth to the world: YMIR HAD COVENANTED WITH THE DEMON AND SUMMARED THE WORLD IN A DARK AGE.

We can not blame them. After all, the god of the enemy is our enemy, our devil.

But Marleyans are not saints either. The old wars DO NOT justify confining the Erdians in ghettos and using them as cannon fodder. Because those Erdians are innocent. If someone in the fandom is able to justify Erdian segregation, that person has a problem. Think, for example, of the Germans. Yes, the Nazis did a lot of damage and ended up with millions of people, BUT THAT DOES NOT WANT TO SAY THAT THE CURRENT GERMANS MUST PAY FOR THEIR CRIMES. That's why the Nuremberg trials were held.

There are no guilty or villains or a dark side in SNK: only revenge, resentment and ambition. The past is just an excuse, the veracity of the facts is not important. Marleyans and Erdians need a reason to hate each other and have the best. As I see it, there are only three solutions to this millennial conflict.

a. Peace. Each side should recognize their mistakes, leave their weapons and dialogue.

b. May the best win. The problems between Erdia and Marley are irreconcilable and the war will end when one country destroys the other.

c. The bilateral catastrophe. Both nations are destroyed by a third country or by an alliance.

I am inclined to the last two options. I think Erdia will beat Marley, but ... that's just the tip of the iceberg. After Eren attacked Liberio, where an international summit was held with ambassadors from all over the globe, the whole world is against Erdia. Okay, maybe Eren will finish Marley. Certainly, it seems that the Marleyans are betting everything in the invasion of the current arc of the manga. They need to put an end to the Erdians of the walls and, above all, they need the power of the TITAN FOUNDER to preserve the military hegemony. I think of the Ardennes Counteroffensive, Hitler's last attack on the allies, which failed. However, both the Nazis and the Allies suffered a large number of casualties: Germany suffered 83,000 casualties among the dead and wounded, and the Allies suffered a total of 102,576 casualties. The Allies lost much more because the German Army was superior and, despite this, they won. I think the Erdians will win thanks to the power of the Titans, thanks to the RUMBLING, because the Marleyan troops are clearly superior.

Recently it was revealed an audio that contained the end of the work. The din of a battle ... the battle against the world? This is very ironic and twisted on the part of the Master Isayama. The fall of the walls has always been a symbol of freedom and union. The fall of the Berlin Wall was a big step towards the end of the Cold War. Nevertheless, the fall of Maria, Rose and Sina would suppose the liberation of the colossal titans, that is to say, the activation of the rumble of the earth. Here we come to the man who will decide the destiny of humanity: Eren Jaeger.

We still do not know what happens in the head of our suicidal bastard (in fact, his vital state is also doubtful), but I dare say he will do the following:

-To end with the era of the titans and, therefore, with the possibility of Erdian supremacy. For this we must liquidate the colossal locked in the walls, but how the hell are you going to get rid of thousands and thousands of colossal, if only one of them killed almost the entire Legion and calcined Armin? Well, Eren can control them and maybe he can get rid of them. If this happened, Eren would fulfill what he said as a child: "I'm going to kill the titans." However, he would no longer do it for revenge or hatred, but for the common good. That would be a way to redeem the character.

How would Eren get rid of the colossal? Well, it's simple ... THE OCEAN. It is well known that the titans do not approach the water and the ocean could be a good tomb for the giants of fifty meters. In our world, the deepest part of the ocean is in the Mariana Trench, 10,000 meters deep. Imagine our Eren commanding those moles towards the unfathomable depths. The sea symbolizes life because everything started in the water, but it also refers to death in a more poetic sense (in the work of Antonio Machado it is very frequent) because all the rivers (the lives) flow into the sea (the death). In addition, the importance of the ocean in Shingeki no Kyojin is already made clear in the first chapters, when Armin dreams of reaching it.

Does this mean that Eren supports Zeke's plan? No, I do not think Eren intends to sterilize his people. I never believed it, especially when the supposed final panel of the manga was unveiled. I believe without doubt that the baby is Erdian; Son of a protagonist? I don’t know, but I do Erdian. And the dialogue, that "you are free", would mean that the coming generations are free of the legacy of Ymir, of the titans, of the terrible past ... and of the titan shifters.

Things as they are: as long as there are titan shifters, there will be war to control them. How do we get rid of them without any baby inheriting it? Well, I'll leave that to Isayama 😊

Suppose that the Titans are truly exterminated, then how will Paradis defend itself from its numerous enemies? Even if Hizuru helped them, the Erdians would lose. They would have two options: peace or destruction. This would be a good time for Armin. After all, Eren himself said that Armin would save humanity, and not him.

This is all. I apologize for possible spelling or grammatical errors: English is not my language.

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Everything is Red - Chapter 3: Riverrun Motel

Summary:

“Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen weren’t desperate by any means, they just happened to find comfort in old, run-down motels where people wouldn’t dare come looking for them. There was no particular reason for this - or so they would tell you. Faded motels just had a certain charm about them, Cyrus would say with one of his naturally bright smiles.”

~

The fall of 2006 finds TJ and Cyrus on the run from the law, seeking the highs associated with risk wherever they can and maybe even learning a thing or two about love and the inevitability of fate.

Warnings for this chapter:

-none-

ALL LINKS IN REBLOG

~~~~~~

"How much for this piece of work?" TJ asked, lowering his sunglasses to look at the dark blue car before him. The attendant glanced over at the car, noting the excessive dents and shoddy repainting, but the still decently working engine, and sighed.

"Like, a thousand bucks?"

TJ looked over at Cyrus who was holding the bag. He turned back to the attendant. "And if we exchange it for our car?"

The attendant shrugged unenthusiastically. "Still like a three hundred and fifty balance."

TJ turned back with a nod and Cyrus came forward, holding out the balance amount in cash. The attendant looked between the two men, and then down at the money, raising his eyebrows.

"Been a while since someone handed only cash for this amount," He said.

TJ just scoffed. "Just take the fucking money and give me the keys."

"Okay, okay dude. Chill out," He said, holding out the keys and taking the money, heading back into the shack where the office was. “And can I ask who’s buying it?”

Cyrus just smirked, climbing into the car. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

TJ turned back, smiling at Cyrus, and within 10 minutes, they were cruising down the highway, the sun high in the sky but the wind still cool. Cyrus opened the window, resting his head against the door, the wind hitting his face as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. TJ removed his sunglasses, looking at Cyrus with a smile as he drove ahead.

"Where to now, babe?" TJ asked, as Cyrus pulled out the road map he had.

"How about," Cyrus said as he glanced over the map, before pointing at a place. "Riverrun Motel, 100 miles away."

TJ nodded, looking ahead as Cyrus gave him directions for where to go. They reached the motel within 3 hours, a decent place, as decent as roadside motels get. By that, the paint on the walls was still mostly there, despite a few cracks here and there. And the poles didn’t seem too rusted. The man at the front desk barely threw them a second glance.

“How many rooms?” he asked, not even looking up.

“Just one,” Cyrus started, before looking up at the TV screen behind him and stopping short.

“How come?” the man asked, peering from below the brim of his cap.

TJ looked expectantly at Cyrus to continue, but Cyrus just stared at the screen. So TJ cleared his throat. “Um, just, low on funds right?”

Cyrus wasn’t just staring into the blank space. The channel was tuned into the news. And the news was of the store they had 'visited' last night.

Seeing the news reports, banners and video interviews of the supervisor, Cyrus could feel his heart start to pick up in rate. He kept his eyes on the screen, letting TJ handle the conversation for that day. He saw some police mill about the background, catching sight of one of the officers.

They looked incredibly familiar? But there was no way he could have known them.

The supervisor was trying to describe him and TJ, but 'two young men, one brown haired and one blonde' was luckily not the most substantial of police descriptions. But that didn't mean Cyrus was calm. His palms were starting to get sweaty while TJ grabbed the keys from the owner, whose only acknowledgement of their existence as they left was a nod, as he continued to play with his Rubik's cube.

As the two climbed up the stairs to their room, Cyrus couldn't help but keep turning back to look over his shoulder, irrational paranoia wrapping its hands around his neck. TJ noticed Cyrus’ jittery air, narrowing his eyes as he squeezed his hand. Cyrus smiled at him, but it didn’t really reach his eyes.

When they reached their room, TJ dropped their bag on the counter, collapsing onto the bed, groaning as he hid his head in the pillow. Cyrus shook his head, smiling, as he pulled out his camera and clicked a picture of TJ, who had turned around at the sound of the click. He just stared at Cyrus deadpanned, who was trying to control his smile.

TJ sighed, sitting up. “Last run was good, dude probably just wanted to sleep.”

Cyrus just hummed, the mention of the supervisor sending him back into thought. TJ raised an eyebrow, getting up. He walked up to Cyrus, grabbing him by the wrist. “Hey, are you okay?”

“We need new masks,” Cyrus said suddenly, cutting TJ off. TJ laughed slightly, moving back a bit.

“What? No, we don’t. These ones are fine.”

“But we’ve been seen in them. If we get new ones, we won’t be traced back to the last one,” Cyrus said, trying to reason it out with TJ. In truth, he knew that it was probably a ridiculous suggestion, but something in him was screaming at him that if they didn’t change the masks something bad would happen.

TJ furrowed his eyebrows, letting go of Cyrus’ hand. “Cy, they are black ski masks. Literally the most generic mask out there. Trust me, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“To me it would,” Cyrus said, his voice rising a bit. “I, I just,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t help but feel like if we don’t change them, something bad will happen.”

“Cyrus, nothing will happen, you’re just being paranoid,” TJ huffed, the exhaustion of the past couple days starting to get to him. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up as he lay down on the bed.

“I am not being paranoid,” Cyrus said quietly, TJ shifting his head up to look at him. “You and I both know the cops are on our trail, and any mistake, however small, can really cost us.”

“Yeah, a ‘mistake’ can cost us. Not changing our masks from place to place isn’t a mistake, Cyrus,” TJ said, annoyance bleeding through his words. “It also wouldn’t be a good use of our resources.” He sat up, looking at Cyrus, a headache starting to make its presence known. “Now, can we just drop this? Please?”

“Oh I’m sorry for just being cautious,” Cyrus said, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re not being cautious, you’re being ridiculous,” TJ said, groaning into his hand. “The world isn’t gonna end if we don’t change our masks.”

“The world may not end, but we may get recognised. The cops may catch onto us. You don’t know what could happen.”

“It’s masks, Cyrus. Masks. The cops couldn’t do anything with them even if God came down and told them it belonged to us. ‘Cuz they don’t know who we are!”

“That could change just like that!” Cyrus said loudly, snapping his fingers. “What if the supervisor got a glimpse at us? At what we looked like? What if someone saw us along the way? What if the guy from the second-hand car dealership puts two and two together and send the cops after us?” Cyrus said, each sentence getting progressively louder, moving closer and closer to TJ. “Can you say for certain that any of that will not happen?”

TJ just stared back at Cyrus, trying to squelch his annoyance and growing anger. Cyrus took his silence as enough of an answer, scoffing as he turned away from TJ.

“I just think you’re being a little too worried about things we have no control over,” TJ said quietly, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice but his words still coming out a bit harsh. “And for all your questions, Cyrus,” TJ said, getting up off the bed. “Can you say for certain that they happened? That all those things will line up neatly? Because, if I remember the news interview correctly, the guy doesn’t even really remember what happened. So him remembering our faces from a nanosecond glimpse seems a bit far fetched, don’t you think?”

“So, I’m being ridiculous, paranoid, annoying, is that it?” Cyrus hissed, turning to look TJ in the eye.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” TJ said quietly, his headache increasing, the closed room and dim lighting not helping the situation.

“Actually, if I remember correctly, you just called me paranoid and ridiculous, so I’m just quoting you.”

“Why is it that whenever we stop in a motel, you always end up picking a fight?”

“I’m not the one doing or saying stupid shit!” Cyrus yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

TJ just groaned, turning away from Cyrus. “I’m not doing this right now,” he said quietly, grabbing a hoodie from their bag and walking to the door.

“Hey, where the fuck are you going?” Cyrus asked, grabbing TJ’s wrist, but he pulled away.

“Out,” TJ said, walking out of the room and slamming the door in the process. Cyrus scoffed, opening the door and yelling after TJ.

“Slamming the door and walking away? Yeah, pretty fucking mature!” he called out, before turning around and slamming the door again, kicking it after it shut.

Stupid stupid stupid. Cyrus pushed his hair back, groaning into his hands as he landed on the bed. He just couldn’t understand why TJ was being so dismissive. Yeah, maybe Cyrus was being too on edge, but it wasn’t like TJ helped. He just pushed aside Cyrus’ feelings, just like that.

Cyrus turned over on his side, squeezing his eyes shut. TJ’s words of Why is it that whenever we stop in a motel, you always end up picking a fight, swam in his mind, burrowing its way into his heart. Cyrus thought ruefully about how true that statement was. Even at Oceanside, Cyrus had snapped at TJ first. Admittedly, he had deserved it, but it was still he who had delivered the first blow. Had they argued when they were at Palace? Cyrus thought to himself, realising that yes, they had argued about something absolutely irrelevant, something he didn’t even remember. And Cyrus didn’t even have to try and dig up the memory to know that it was he who threw the first barb.

Cyrus turned over onto his side, this realisation sending him down a line of thought he really wasn’t willing to follow. Maybe it’s just because they have been cooped up together for upwards of 5 years now, he tried to reason, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. It’s bound to drive people crazy, being stuck together with only each other for so long. They’re bound to snap at each other. People say that it happened to Bonnie and Clyde too!

The resemblance was uncanny.

Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his brain to go quiet. Maybe, if he slept for a while, TJ would be back and they could just talk about it like adults.

God, he hoped he’d be back when he opened his eyes.

*

Cyrus groaned, pushing himself off the bed, forcing himself to walk around the room. He had woken up more than an hour ago after having slept for three hours, and still no TJ. It was now getting close to 4 pm in the evening, and Cyrus was really starting to worry. He picked at the skin on his thumb as he paced about the room, wondering whether he should risk leaving the room to go find TJ. But his paranoia had too strong of a hold on him to put one foot out the door without TJ.

Why did he have to go and pick an argument, Cyrus thought to himself ruefully, as he walked over to the table where he had left the camera. He also brought the essentials bag to the bed, opening it up and hunting through it, eventually pulling out a large envelope. All over some stupid masks. And his stupid stupid worry and anxiety. And now he was alone, and TJ was gone. For good probably. Emptying the contents, a collection of photographs cascaded from within the envelope, falling onto the bed and forming a sort of collage.

He always did this when things were too overwhelming, too anxious. He pulled out all the pictures he had taken, going through them one by one to ground himself, to pull himself down from where his mind floated away. But this would be the first time he would be doing it without TJ. The thought that TJ had left him for good came back to, grabbing and squeezing his heart. But Cyrus coaxed and pried the hand off, with sniffs and controlled breathing. Cyrus took a deep breath and picked up the camera, scrolling through the most recent pictures. He smiled sadly looking at the picture of TJ lying on the bed, taken just before everything had exploded. Cyrus sighed, scrolling back further.

The sunrise from that morning, TJ making food in the last motel, a rare picture of Cyrus taken by TJ in the middle of the night as Cyrus was asleep, TJ driving against the sunset, their hands. Cyrus flicked through them one by one, his heart both growing warm and breaking more and more. As the pictures on the camera ran out, Cyrus placed it on the bed and picked up the physical pictures.

These were much older, some even dating back to the end of high school. When they left Shadyside for good.

When they became who they were now.

~

The streetlight lit up Cyrus’ room in a golden glow as he turned over onto his side. Try as he did, sleep eluded him. For good reason. TJ may have walked away from that house alive that night, but the other guy didn’t, and no matter how well evidence is hid and changed, and how well their neighbourhood’s environment protected them, anything was possible.

Cyrus bolted up from the bed and got up as quietly as possible, shrugging on a hoodie and his shoes as he crept out of his window. He wasn’t worried about his mother hearing him, remembering seeing her passed out figure on the living room couch, bottles everywhere. He crawled out, making his way down the street to where TJ’s house was. He held his arms close, rubbing the sleeves, the cold making its presence known. He made his way deftly up the drainpipe, seeing the light pour out of TJ’s window into the dark.

TJ was lying in bed, turning the page of a book he was mildly invested in, when he was startled by a rapping sound coming from his window. He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, peering through the foggy glass, and jumped up as soon as he made out Cyrus’ figure in the hazy light. He unlatched the window, and Cyrus pulled himself into the room, as TJ ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m really sorry, I just,” Cyrus started, but TJ didn’t let him finish, pulling him close and holding him, as Cyrus let out a breath.

“Couldn’t sleep, could you?” TJ whispered, and Cyrus nodded into his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, lying down on his bed, Cyrus following him. He wrapped his arm around TJ’s waist, laying a hand on his chest. TJ pulled Cyrus closer by the shoulders, resting his head on his.

“They came to our class today,” Cyrus said softly.

“The cops?” TJ asked. Cyrus nodded slowly.

“Cuz Lester was our age, and Dylan one year older, right? Plus, some kids told him that they had seen him around school the day before he,” Cyrus said, stopping himself before he could say “died”.

TJ hummed, indicating he was listening to Cyrus. He looked calm, but Cyrus could feel his heart rate pick up. They were both equally scared, tripping over eggshells around their friends. They thought that the cops wouldn’t be completely bothered, but 2 murders within a week was too much, even for a town like Shadyside, a town that lived up to its name in more than one way.

“You know,” TJ said softly, and Cyrus lifted his head up to look at him. “High school ends in like two weeks.”

“Yeah, so?” Cyrus asked, confused. TJ sat up, making Cyrus move from where he was lying down.

“And both of us are 18 now.”

“Are you suggesting?” Cyrus asked, raising an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“We could do it,” TJ said, a smile growing on his face. “I could take the car, we grab a few things, and we leave. Live in motels for a few days, and I could get a job at a gas station,” TJ said, getting up and pacing. “Yeah, it’ll be rough for some time. But we’ll have each other.”

“TJ as much as I love the idea of you and me running away together,” Cyrus started, getting up and walking towards TJ. “I don’t know how possible it is.”

“It could be, Cy! We just need to make it work.”

“You can’t take your car without your dad finding out and killing you for it, maybe literally,” Cyrus said, cupping TJ’s cheeks. “And besides, we don’t have any money to survive.”

“We’ll take some money,” TJ said, his words verging on desperate.

Cyrus shook his head. “This isn’t just money for the odd slushy, TJ. This is real shit.”

TJ looked down. Cyrus put a hand under his chin, holding it up so TJ looked at him.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You may be onto something here. But if we are gonna do this, we need to be smart.”

TJ quirked his eyebrows. “Wait. You wanna do this? For real?”

Cyrus smiled, looking around him. “As much as Shadyside is where I’m from, it isn’t good for us here. Especially with all the cops.”

“Then let’s do this together,” TJ said, pulling Cyrus in for a kiss, holding him as tight as he could.

Within a couple days, Cyrus and TJ had discreetly packed away things they wanted to take with them wherever they were. High school ended, and with it came the parties, the drinking, the sobs and the farewells. The buzz of excitement and nostalgic distraction was exactly what TJ and Cyrus needed to get away without much notice.

It happened on an early Wednesday morning. The most plain and uneventful day of the week. Cyrus snuck out of his house for one last time that day. As he opened the window of his room, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at his room, a pang of sadness hitting him and settling in his stomach. He checked his bag for his clothes, watch, a camera he had bought the day before, a notebook and a wad of cash he had consistently taken out of his mother’s purse.

Speaking of his mother…

Cyrus dropped his bag onto the floor, slowly opening the door of his room and headed down to the living room where he had heard his mother in the late hours of the night. He rounded the corner, taking a peek at the couch, where he could make out her figure. He didn’t feel remorse for leaving, but something in him broke at the thought of leaving with no warning. However neglectful she was, she was still his mother. Eventually, Cyrus walked into her room, retrieving a blanket which he lay on her, before walking out of the house for good.

TJ was waiting down the street in his dad’s old beat up Ford. As he walked out, bag slung on his shoulder, Cyrus couldn’t help but embrace the adrenaline now thrilling through his veins. He threw his bag into the back seat, and slid into the passenger seat. TJ smiled at him, leaning in for a kiss, before handing him a map.

“Take it away, Goodman. You’re in charge.”

~

Cyrus had stopped at a picture, holding it up as he smiled tearfully. It wasn’t even very good, just a blurry picture of TJ driving along the highway. TJ was reaching out, trying to move the camera away from his face, but Cyrus had still managed to take a picture. It was not special at first glance. But it was the first picture Cyrus had taken with that camera, an hour or so after they had left the outskirts of Shadyside. The paper was yellowing at the corners, crease lines obvious down the middle from being shoved in an envelope for so long. But Cyrus cradled the picture to his chest, letting some tears fall.

A sudden knocking at the door startled Cyrus out of his thoughts. He hastily wiped away the tears and set the picture down, heading over to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and gasped.

“TJ.”

“I went to get some food for us, I figured you’d wanna eat in given everythi-oof,” TJ started, holding up a paper bag with some containers in it, but before he could complete his sentence, Cyrus pulled him into the room and tackled him in a bone-crushing hug. It knocked him back a bit, but he was able to set down the bag and hug Cyrus back, running his hands through his hair.

“I was so scared you’d left for good,” Cyrus said shakily, burying his head in TJ’s shoulder. “I slept for a bit and you still weren’t back, and I thought you were finally done with me, and you just left, and oh my god I’m so sorry for snapping at you and for starting arguments every time,” Cyrus began rambling. TJ pulled away, holding Cyrus’ head up so he looked him in the eye.

“Hey no, Cyrus I would never leave you, okay? I love you,” TJ said reassuringly, leaning in to press a comforting kiss to Cyrus’ forehead. Cyrus sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“I love you too, TJ,” he whispered in response, bumping his nose against TJ’s.

“And, I’m sorry too. For calling you ridiculous and paranoid. You had every right to be worried, and I just brushed it off like it was nothing. We can buy new masks if it makes you feel better.”

Cyrus shook his head, smiling softly. “It’s okay. To be fair, I was being paranoid.”

TJ laughed slightly, but his face dropped a bit. “I’m sorry for saying you start arguments all the time. Truth be told, I am the one messing up a lot so…”

TJ pushed Cyrus’ hair back, leaning his forehead against Cyrus’.

“I think it’s just the fact we’ve been only with each other for so long,” Cyrus offered, and TJ nodded in agreement.

“Not that I’d have it any other way. Arguments or not, I don’t mind being only with you,” TJ said softly. Cyrus softly cupped TJ’s cheeks, looking him in the eye.

“You’re all I really have, TJ. I just got scared of losing you.”

TJ smiled softly, leaning in to kiss Cyrus softly, a stray tear running down his cheek. “You’re all I have too, Underdog. And don’t worry - you won’t lose me.”

~~~~~

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4.1K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart. (AU from s3ep20 “Bismuth”)

Chapter summary: In which Steven has to be the most mature Crystal Gem.

First | Last chapter

While I’m cross posting all of these to tumblr, I’d love to have your support over on AO3 too! Plus, it’s easier to subscribe there. A win-win, I’d say. 

Chapter 4: Pandemonium

“—it’s Pink Diamond.”

Garnet’s words hang over them, as commanding in their presence as the hands of the temple when he’s out playing on the beach under their shadow. Shifting in her arms, Steven squints, the reveal holding far less meaning for him than he imagines it does for everyone else. Did the Gems mention a Pink Diamond before? Sure, he knows a little bit about the so-called Great Diamond Authority, mainly how they tend to colonize and destroy all life on whatever fertile planets they come across— and thanks to Peridot he’s actually seen Yellow Diamond— but Pink? It doesn’t ring any bells. To be fair, they’re still not super transparent about much of their involvement in Earth’s history, but if it’s supposed to be important—

“And how is that even possible?” Bismuth outbursts. Like an overfilled balloon, the tension pops. “We knew Rose, we- we all fought with her against Pink, she—“

As the others continue to tussle over this revelation, Steven realizes with a jolt that Pink Diamond’s existence has been staring him in the face this whole time. “Holy moley,” he breathes to himself, eyes wide as saucers. Of course! The symbols on the ancient sky arena bear a fourth diamond, where more recent Gem structures do not. What color is it? Pink. Back in August, just past his birthday, they popped up to the moon base on Lion’s back. On the bottom floor of the base, the Diamonds are depicted in monolithic murals that are like, fifty feet fall. And how many does he remember seeing? Four. Blue, Peridot’s Yellow, White, and...

The last mural is Pink.

And somehow, according to Garnet Pink Diamond is... Rose? Is his mom? And so then as the recipient of her gem... so is he...? In a way? Geeze, this is so confusing.

“Garnet?!” Pearl calls, and he realizes then that the fusion’s body is quivering. Her arms still wrap protectively around him, but their hold is progressively weakening. Her mouth contorts into a painful grimace.

“Garnet, what’s wro—“ he reaches out, intending to affectionately pat his guardian’s hair, but then her form begins to glow white. All at once, she loses control.

He’s unable to hold back his yelp when her grip on him gives up, unable to heft his weight in this state. Bedspread and all, Steven tumbles to the hard stone. The blankets unravel around him like a ball of yarn. Pearl is at his side in a flash, one hand on his back and the other protectively cupped around his gem. With her help he pulls himself to his knees, limbs shaking with the effort, and turns to set his gaze on Garnet. His throat grows dry at the sight of the agony she’s in.

She’s bent over, arms desperately clinging to herself as if this is the only way she can avoid splitting into two. She clenches her teeth, practically seething as she rides the waves of instability.

“Not the time, not the time, not the time,” she chants to herself. Her body morphs, almost pulling apart into smaller halves.

Almost.

Moments pass, only noticeable via the frantic beating of Steven’s heart, and miraculously Garnet is still together. Her breathing stills as she stabilizes. The two gems on her hands stop glowing. Slowly but surely, a wide eyed Bismuth approaches and supports her by the shoulder.

“You okay?” she asks, genuine concern tinting her voice.

“I—“ Garnet pauses, her mouth falling slack. “For now. But don’t think this changes anything,” she adds quickly, shrugging away and piercing her with the same sort of intense look that he‘s on the receiving end of whenever he’s in trouble.

She holds her palms outstretched in defense. “Just tryin’ to help where I can, no need to cut your facets down a size.”

“Believe me, you’ve already done enough.”

Pearl taps her foot impatiently, still clutching the inert gemstone. “The fountain is just around the corner,” she says. “Steven, can you walk?”

His brow creases in concentration. That’s a good question, can he? Carefully, he moves one bare foot under him, and tries putting a little weight on it. It’s a little wobbly, his system still acclimating to being entirely without the gem side of his physiology, (a problem which they’ll hopefully fix soon), but not entirely unstable. He shrugs.

“Uh... maybe if I’m leaning on someone?”

“Excellent!” she says, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Here, take my arm, and I’ll lead you the last few steps.”

“And you,” Garnet growls, striding across to Pearl.

She flinches, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks in the shadow of the fusion’s anger. Steven’s gut twists at the sight. Suddenly he’s unable to shake the memories of the last time the two of them fought.

“Wha- me?”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Her ivory cheeks flush bright blue. “I—“

All further words are cut off as she slaps her palm to her mouth. She trembles violently, her horrified gaze snapping to that hand as if it’s something invasive and doesn’t belong there.

Bismuth also advances upon her. “You did seem rather calm about all this earlier,” she points out, crossing her arms.

This comment is enough to drive Pearl to channel all her nervous energy elsewhere. She takes a bold step in front of him, no longer hindered by that mysterious invisible force. “And for someone who tried to shatter the most important person on this planet to me, you don’t seem panicked enough,” she spits.

“Save your words!” Garnet says, jabbing her finger at her. “Admit it. You knew, you knew Rose was Pink Diamond, this whole time!”

“Y’ guys!” Steven croaks from his position on the rough stone, watching in dismay as the two of them devolve into conflict. Kneeling there behind them, he can’t help but feel a cold dread climb deep into his skin and seep through his veins— an immobilizing sense of emotional helplessness that rivals that which the loss of his gem gave —or is that merely the morning chill seeping through the legs of his jeans? It’s hard to tell.

“You lied to us. To your friends! To me, to Amethyst… to Steven…”

Rapidly, Pearl shakes her head. “It was never my intention to—“

“But you know what the worst part is? I trusted you so implicitly that I never saw this betrayal coming, not ever!”

“Garnet, please,” she begs, “you have to understand, there are some things that are impossible for me to explain!”

“Try anyway,” she snarls, and summons a gauntlet over her ruby gem.

“I’m trying to tell you, I literally can’t!”

“But why not?!”

All that helplessness builds and builds within him as he watches this shameless display, until suddenly something in his mind shifts like the tumblers inside a lock and those feelings turn inside out. Frustration is the only fire burning within him now— frustration that no one’s listening to each other, that everyone is yelling, that every minute they spend arguing over the unchanging past is another minute his gem is damaged and entirely removed from his body, frustration about the disastrous circumstances that threw him into this whole ugly mess in the first place...

Steven slams his eyes shut.

“STOOOP!” he hollers.

He frantically hobbles across to Garnet on his knees, the patterns of the stone’s grain distinguishable through the fabric of his jeans. As he throws his arms around her leg, she lowers her gauntlet... ever so slowly. Pearl breaths a visible sigh of relief. Even Bismuth, standing close behind, turns her gaze in interest to what he has to say. In a perfect world he’d have the strength to literally stand his ground while securing their full attention, but for now he’ll have to improvise. He hugs her leg tighter.

“Come on, stop fighting,” he begs, blinking up at both of them through wide, red rimmed eyes. “You two love each other! And if you love me...”

He pulls away, and gestures towards the gem in Pearl’s grasp. His fingers open wide, ready to take hold of it himself. Ready to feel halfway whole again.

“Let me have it, please.”

She’s about to do just that when the bridge of Bismuth‘s nose crinkles with alarm. “B-but wait,” the rainbow haired Gem butts in, pushing her broad figure between them, “if we fix the crack, when Pink reforms, how do we know she won’t—“

“It’s not her anymore,” Steven says insistently, fighting to keep the full intensity of his frustration with her out of the micro expressions of his face. “It’s me! You all saw him.” Taking a deep breath, he sits back on his heels and takes this moment to make eye contact with each one of them in turn. “Listen, I know there’s a lot you’re upset about, and a lot we still don’t understand. I mean, I barely know who this Pink Diamond is! But all the arguing‘s gotta stop. If we’re going to figure this out, it has to be together. It has to. Okay?”

Pearl gives a tight nod, her mouth pressing into a thin line. She silences any further argument from Bismuth in a single acerbic glare, the stockier Gem backing away as if standing on hot coals, and suddenly he understands why people used to call her the ‘terrifying renegade pearl.’ Her expression softens when she turns to him. She extends the gemstone to him like an offering, gently guiding it into his hands. They held it together for a moment, and as his quivering thumbs stroke its glassy surface he swears he can sense faint vibrations from within. Damaged, but inside, still so very much brimming with life.

“It’s not about us,” she says, and releases the gem to his care. She peers up at Garnet, inclining her brow pointedly. “It’s about him.”

At hearing her earlier words thrown back at her, the fusion sighs wearily. She drops her gauntlet laden arm, and lets the weapon phase back into her gem. Like steam dissipating with exposure to chilled air, it’s clear all the fight’s been drained out of her. “You’re right, Steven. Of course you are. We‘re wrong to jump to conclusions with so little information to work with.”

“Yeah, exactly!” he chimes, lifting his pink gemstone to eye level and admiring the way the light refracts through its facets— though this refraction is of course thrown off by the jagged gouge marring its flat pentagonal center. “For all we know, maybe you got a bit carried away and this gem’s just a regular ol’ rose quartz after all!”

“No, that’s definitely a diamond.”

The bluntness of this statement wipes the faint smile off his face.

“...oh.”

“But you made a good point,” Garnet says, and at noticing his stress ruffles his hair. “No matter what we feel, it’s not her. It’s your gem now. So, we’re gonna mend it.”

Pearl loops her arm through his, helping him up. For the first time since all this madness began Steven plants his bare feet on solid ground. His knees wobble under his body weight, and he inhales sharply, an intrusive image of him collapsing, dropping his gem, and watching it shatter into a zillion tiny shards zipping through his mind like lightning. But his guardian holds tight, keeping him from toppling over.

“That’s it, small steps,” she whispers, guiding him. “We’ll walk slowly, okay?”

Garnet promptly falls in line behind them, and he can only assume Bismuth tries to follow as well because Garnet barks for her to stay back. He swivels to match eyes with the one who cracked him— a flurry of complicated emotions swirling within him all the while that he’s definitely not ready to unpack— and watches her face crumple as they leave her behind. The foliage thins. Soon enough they reach the vast, glittering basin, filled to the brim with his mom’s healing tears. Adorning the central platform of the grand fountain, that familiar ringlet laden statue looms over them. Steven thought it almost ethereal the first time he came to this place, but seeing it now just serves to leave him with a knot in his stomach, right in the hole his mother’s gem left. Knowing the bitter truths they do now, the peaceful smile painstakingly etched across her stone visage feels like a mockery.

Pearl leads him to the fountain’s edge and helps him sit on its rim. Both her and Garnet join him on either side. Basking in the morning sun’s warmth, it’s easy to forget that it’s like one am back in Beach City, and that he’s not supposed to be awake right now. His eyelids droop. Hopefully soon this nightmare will all be over so he can collapse in his bed, cuddle with one of his stuffed animals, and have the deepest, most dreamless sleep of his life. His glance drops to the diamond in his hands.

“Well,” he says, a noticeable shake in his voice. “Here goes nothing.”

Slowly and oh-so-carefully, he plunges his gem under the water’s surface. The other two watch, enraptured, as its surface glows with a shimmering brilliance. Simultaneously the deep crack splayed across its pentagonal facet begins to recede. He counts three seconds… then five… by eight, the gouge is gone entirely. Eyes sparkling, he lifts the gem into the air. Now he can barely tell it was damaged in the first place! Maybe he’s reading into things too much and it’s nothing more but the manifestation of sweet, sweet relief, but Steven wonders if fixing his gem is to thank for lifting the cloud over his mind. He already feels ten times more alert and able than before. (Although he still doubts his ability to walk. Should he be concerned how physically weak he is on his own, completely human?) Nevertheless, he clutches the repaired diamond to his chest, grinning at his guardians.

“Maybe we should come here more often, ‘coz I think this is the shiniest my gem’s ever been,” he jokes with a weak laugh.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Pearl sighs, and throws herself around him.

Garnet joins her in the embrace, and with a sniffle, Steven buries his face in the crook of her arm. His eyes flutter shut as he allows his worries to momentarily melt away. The faint vibrations of their hard light bodies thrum steadily in time with his heartbeat. Gems may not have a physical heart like humans or other kinds of organic life, but Pearl taught him their gemstones constantly refresh their forms through the channels of light running from their core outward, and that in practice it’s pretty similar to the blood pumping through his circulatory system. In any case, it’s a comforting reminder that he’s safe.

“Now can we talk about this peacefully, without yelling?” he says softly.

“Of course,” Garnet says with one of her customary half-smiles, and after giving him one last squeeze pulls away. “Bismuth!” she calls. “Your damage has been fixed. You can come out from the tree you’re sulking behind now.”

Still clutching him tight, Pearl stiffens. “Wha-! After what she did to Steven, you’re just going to let her—?”

She tips down her visor, regarding her directly. “Believe me,” she mutters, voice brimming with a rock solid assurance that could only come from future vision, “she won’t be trying that again.”

Pearl helps him sit with his back against the fountain’s lip as the other Crystal Gem rejoins the group. Bismuth’s fingers fidget almost hyperactively, clasping and folding over and over in front of her blacksmith’s apron. Steven watches her glance drift to the gem he now holds in his lap, and while she's calmer than before now that it's mended, there’s an undeniable fear lurking underneath as well. His shoulders hunch. Is that what his mother’s shadowy past evokes in everyone? Fear?

He‘s beginning to wish he never popped that bubble in Lion’s mane in the first place.

“Pearl, can you tell us anything about Pink Diamond and Rose?” he asks, opening the conversation.

She bites at her lip, glancing between the three of them. Garnet regards her with an especially careful focus.

“No...”

He frowns. “But you want to, right?”

“More than anything,” she whispers, her blue irises glittering.

Apparently her words enclose some sort of hidden meaning, because the tenseness in Garnet’s expression begins to fade away, a wave of understanding crashing onto shore to replace it. “Gag order.”

His nose crinkles. “What’s that? It doesn’t sound very nice.”

“That’s because it isn’t. The diamonds have the capability of giving irrefutable orders to Gems who are bound to them,” the fusion explains, crossing her arms. “Such as, individuals in their court who were given as gifts, or... personal pearls. Pink Diamond must have commanded her not to speak of her true identity.”

“So hold on. Lemme see if I can get this straight. You think,” Bismuth begins, and points directly at Pearl, “that before the rebellion she was Pink Diamond’s personal pearl? Our lone Pearl?”

The Gem in question shifts uncomfortably at their discussion, clamping her lips together. Silently, Steven hugs her from the side, pressing his cheek against her upper arm. Her form quivers.

“Yes, I do.”

“And then somehow, Rose Quartz, respected leader of that rebellion, was actually the diamond were were supposedly fighting against all along? Was fake? Just some created persona? But why would some spoiled, imperialistic upper crust do that in the first place? None of this makes any sense!”

“If I could actually explain anything, it’d make more sense than you’d expect,” Pearl says.

“Maybe she just wanted to be Rose Quartz,” Steven shrugs. “Is that so bad?”

Garnet adjusts her opaque glasses. “Depends on what her motives were. See, I thought I knew Rose. Knew what she stood for. Now I have no way of being sure.” She pauses, gazing vacantly between him and Bismuth. “None of us do.”

The group lapses into uncomfortable silence at this, their sense of morale deflating further and further as the moment stretches on. That sick, twisted feeling in his gut returns with a vengeance. Talking is still leagues better than fighting, but… now his family is suspicious and tense, battered and broken. He doesn’t want this. Desperately, he looks to Garnet.

“But… Pearl can find a way to get around that gag order eventually, can’t she? Then she can tell us everything herself!”

“I’ve tried,” the lithe Gem blurts out, hugging her knees to her chest. “Ever since Homeworld Gems started returning to this planet I’ve tried everything I could think of to get around it, but it’s been a part of me for so long that I don’t know if I can.”

“Tampering with a Diamond’s commands is too risky. A Gem could shatter under that pressure,” Garnet says. Delicately, she rests her hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “I’ve lost too many friends to this war. As much as I want to know the truth, I won’t risk another.”

Tears bud at the corner of Pearl’s eyes, which she quickly dabs away with the butt of her palm. In the lush garden around the fountain, a flurry of birds begin their morning songs, their lilting chirps meshing together into more complex melodies until they coalesce into a grand symphony. It’s achingly beautiful, and since song birds like this don’t nest near his home Steven is mesmerized. There’s a bizarre dissonance, however, between the content mood their singing encourages and the dour shadow he can’t seem to escape from under. A golf ball sized lump catching in his throat, his attention returns to the pink diamond in his lap. The diamond that should be sitting flush in his belly right now, its weight as ordinary and familiar as the clothes on his back. He splays his hand over his stomach. Even if he’s beginning to recover from the initial shock by now, the absence of his gem still haunts him to his core, still feels like someone’s reached into his chest cavity and yanked out one of his essential organs. It’s always been a part of him, ever since he was born, but now, because of what Bismuth did, because he wasn’t careful enough...

His eyes burn, growing damp.

“So... does this mean I’m just. Human, now? Forever? Is that it?”

“Oh, Steven,” Pearl breathes, and pulls him tight into her embrace. The dams break, and hot, sloppy tears roll down his cheeks.

“No matter what, you’ll always be a Crystal Gem to us,” Garnet says softly, tracing abstract shapes on his back as he cries.

“But I won’t have my shield!” he blubbers, voice thick. “Without my gem I won’t have any of my powers! And- a-and if I’m completely human now, and humans can’t fuse with Gems, then how—“

“We wait and see. You’ll be alright, I promise.”

“I hear footsteps approaching,” Bismuth says. Bounding in front of them with the force of a door slamming shut, she morphs her fist into a mallet.

Sure enough, true to her claim he hears movement nearby— and as it grows closer, wonderfully familiar voices too. His heart soars. When did they miss the sound of the warp pad activating?

Pearl bristles. “Put that away, it’s just Amethyst and Greg.”

“Greg? What kinda Gem’s a Greg?” she asks, brow creasing.

“He’s not a Gem, he’s my dad!”

Fresh tears spring forth as he catches a glimpse of the pair approaching from the distance at a generous clip. They emerge into the clearing, forms no longer obscured by the trees’ shadows. Amethyst’s features are wide and frantic, and his dad hauls the bedspread they left behind midway to the fountain. He’s breathing heavy as he plods along, nearly wheezing. They match eyes simultaneously.

“Dad!” he cries, hoarse.

“Steven! I’m coming!”

His dad hastens his pace, scurrying across the remainder of the clearing on his last burst of adrenaline quicker than even Amethyst. He almost trips on a dangling edge of the comforter but catches himself a heartbeat before disaster. Shaking his head he tosses the whole mass of blankets to the ground and keeps running. Steven thrusts his gem into Pearl’s care and daringly, on his own strength, pushes himself to his feet. His knees almost buckle, but through either a miracle or sheer stubbornness he somehow manages to carve his way across the rough hewn stone to the one person he needs right now more than anyone in the world. With all the rest of the Crystal Gems in witness, he bounds towards the promise of his dad’s cozy embrace. He gasps in alarm when his legs finally give out at the last step. Unable to stop himself, he starts to crumple…

“Whoa-ho there!” Dad exclaims, catching him just as he’s about to crash knee-first into the rocky ground. “We don’t need you hurting yourself again…”

“I’m okay now!” Steven says, swaying unevenly in his hold. “I’m- I don’t know how much Amethyst told you, but I’m okay.”

The rigidity in his dad’s body increases tenfold as he pulls him even tighter, pressing his tear stained cheek against the hem of his sweaty old tank top.

“She said that- that you’d split apart or something, and your gem was cracked, and—“

“Dad, you’re squishing me,” he says, voice muffled against his chest.

“Oh, whoops!” he chuckles, and eases up on him. “Guess I’m just really glad to see you moving and alert. Sorry we took so long, Schtu-ball. Your ol’ man ain’t as agile as he used to be.”

Steven flashes him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, and wipes his face dry. A hand lays itself on his shoulder then, and he turns his head to find Amethyst peering at him in interest.

“Yo, where’d your creepy twin go?”

Pearl crosses her arms. “Amethyst!”

“Did you guys, like, deal with his crack yet?” she asks, completely ignoring the other Gem’s chastising. He has to admit, ignoring the jab she made at the other Steven, the level of concern etched upon her face is genuinely touching.

“Uh, he kinda poofed?” he says, gesturing towards the rest of the Gems. “But the gem’s fixed! Pearl has it.”

Pearl lifts the diamond so they can all see. Its facets catch the sun's glow, scattering the light in all directions. His dad’s face grows pale at the sight.

“Man, and here I thought you were exaggerating,” he mutters to Amethyst.

She shrugs widely. “Maybe about everything else, but not when it’s actually serious.”

“What I don’t understand is how it happened. That gem’s huge! And it’s not like it’s gonna fall right out. How on Earth did you lose it anyway?”

Garnet and Pearl shoot a poisonous glance in Bismuth’s direction. If it were subtle that'd be one thing, but it's blatant enough that all other conversation runs silent. His skin nearly crawls in the awkward silence. He can feel sweat bead on his brow as he watches his dad's expression grow taut.

“Whoa," Amethyst says, holding up her hands. "I’m, uh, feeling some real uncomfortable vibes here. What’d I miss?”

Steven gives a nervous laugh, and runs his hand through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Well... that’s kinda a long story.”

Notes:

-Pearl’s gag order still stands even after the reveal because that mental lock has not been undone yet. I headcanon that it would take an individual actually crossing through her memories ala in canon to unlock that door. But since “Hey Steven, climb through my head and find my phone” is such a bizarrely specific idea, it won’t be something Pearl will consider as a potential solution for a long while.

-In the end, I chose to interpret the order this way because it allows Steven to still have a mystery to unfold. As a writer that’s far more fun than an info-dump.

-Garnet, as unstable as she currently is, was letting her anger get the best of her in her fear of the fact that she never saw this possibility coming, and took that out on Pearl. If she stopped to think she would’ve realized the reason why Pearl couldn’t provide any information much earlier.

-At this point, Bismuth is super lucky that her rash attempt at shattering Steven isn’t the headline right now. Everyone’s still so focused on the Pink Diamond revelation that nobody’s quite gotten around to dealing with that issue yet. Her time is coming, though. It's just not currently a priority.

[dbhilluminate]

DBH: Illuminate- Reassigned

Chapter art by optcldrift

**Brought to you in collaboration with grayorca**

Characters: Amanda, Connor / “Zero” (mentions of Dennis, Nick) Word Count: 2,749

A RAID redundancy failure causes Connor’s consciousness to split and download into a second iteration of himself, resulting in one Connor who is more prone to acting like a machine, and one who is more deviant-minded.

Previous Chapter

• Chapter Index • Characters •

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November 11th, 2038 - 11:11 PM Amanda didn’t typically commandeer them for any little inconsequential reason. It wasn’t what she was designed for. On a good day she needn’t direct them at all- on a good week they went without needing any updates. In almost nine months of roving investigative work, RK800 #313 248 317 -50 knew precisely how many times he had been summoned to the garden without warning. None. Stranger yet was the shift in weather. In his experience, the sun’s intensity had never waned, nor strengthened. The water of the pond remained clear, the silt below smooth and undisturbed. A gentle breeze always blew, rustling the trees around them no more violently than a tickling brush. Today he opened his eyes to a springtime scene of overcast skies, the occasional whitecap breaking its way across the choppy pond, and wilting pink blossoms. The shed petals twirling to the ground in small clusters were instant cause for concern. The fact he was there looking at these changes alone -without his partners- was even more alarming. Every one of their case debriefs to date had always been conducted as a group, never individually. It was that way for a reason. Amanda knew what each of them excelled in, as much as she knew what their weaknesses were, and it was always more constructive to go around the ring, check and double check and triply verify they were on the same page, pointed toward the same goal. Eccentric as Dennis and Nicholas may have seemed to the uninitiated layman, they served their function in the trio. A multitude of perspectives was always more conducive to considering a problem from all angles. To be in the garden without them now, never mind the arbitrary means by which he had been brought there, was as strange as the first afternoon -50 had been directed to meet them, at least in his experience. Neatly collating and setting it aside, he took the nearest footpath toward the waypoint his HUD had been provided. He had no reason to disobey the unspoken order, after all. A little flock of pearl-white doves were the garden’s only other inhabitants at present. Behind the drooping branches of a weeping willow he found his handler tending to three of them. The birds stirred, perched side by side upon a chest-high branch, with a fourth poised upon her wrist. Amanda scant glanced up from tracing her fingertips across its back, the soft murmur of cooing seemed to taper off as -50 trailed to a stop at the edge of the path. Quashing whatever curious prickles of nervousness this summons brought forth, he folded his hands behind his back, where she couldn’t see any errant, unexplainable tremors. He could pretend this was business as usual, no reason to be concerned. The empty spaces behind his shoulders weren’t that disquieting.

“Hello, Amanda.” The bird on her wrist froze at the new voice, then resumed nuzzling against her fingertips. From the side, it looked as if Amanda spared it a languid smile before turning to address their visitor. Her shawl was a vibrant mix of blue-green fractals today. “Connor. A pleasure to see you, as ever. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything too pressing.” Nothing any more exciting than what usually happened in Dayton, Ohio. A few weeks conferring with its various police precincts had only revealed the expected assortment of open, dead-in-the-water cases. Pursuing deviants wasn’t unlike trying to trace exploded fireworks - the inceptual event typically ended in the suspect’s abrupt disappearance. If it was reported at all was considered progress. Amanda knew this, which was why she typically left them to work using their own means. But today wasn’t typical already. Still, small talk subroutines were what they were. She didn’t expect him to be ruffled, stressed, or asking questions. For now, he would do well to comply. “No, nothing more pressing than usual.” “Good. I apologize for the unusual circumstances for our meeting, but I wanted to check in and see how you were faring...” Trailing off, Amanda let her hand settle over the dove’s folded wings, then turned to face him. “Dennis and Nicholas have already been notified, they will rendezvous with you within the hour.” Of course, the first impulse Connor had was to wonder just what his partners were notified of. The second was the fact his handler reported they complied immediately, without question, said he would be wise to do the same. His third concern was the case presently at hand. And then there was her choice of words, pointedly vague yet oddly specific. “The Davenport matter was running… slower than we anticipated, given the surplus of witness reports there were to follow up on.” It was true. Even if accounts of aberrant android behavior were in comparatively rare supply in sparsely-populated Ohio, those which did occur were distinct. In the Davenport instance, the longtime air traffic control attendant had left its post to hijack one of the same choppers it watched over at a privately-owned heliport, just southeast of Dayton. The transponder, as well as the deviant’s tracker, had gone dark not an hour after the FAA first detected its unauthorized presence. The owner of said Sikorsky was not happy with the news one of their assets had hijacked another. The insurance company in question had been quick to declare they weren’t liable for thievery as perpetrated by Ernest Davenport’s AP500. It was too close to the legal definition of fraud, apparently. If Christopher were owned by someone else and not just loaned to the heliport on a long term contract, it would be different. And there hadn’t been any helicopter crashes reported within the next several hundred miles in any direction. Wherever that chopper had been taken, it had successfully landed and concealed from satellite photography. Amanda already knew as much as they did. She also knew conducting interviews with heliport personnel was strictly procedural. The odds they would unearth a viable lead as to Chris’ whereabouts were pitifully minuscule. But per their programming, the RK800s were trying. With another enigmatic smile, Amanda ran a thumb over the dove’s head. “I gather you’ve just about exhausted that avenue.” It was as patronizing as it was true. Without the full scope of resources afforded to a human police department, there was only so much follow up the RK800s could conduct- nine months in the field and they had no live suspects to show for it. CyberLife had always stressed the importance of capturing deviants online and intact, but they were never so lucky; the sloppy seconds their deviant hunters infrequently netted - riddled with bullet holes, lacerations, or missing limbs - were just enough to keep the program managers satiated. Connor supposed he should feel dispirited for turning up empty-handed on so many occasions. But to acknowledge it was to give credence to the idea he minded disappointment. He wasn’t supposed to, that was for Amanda to broadcast. She wasn’t usually shy about saying so, but in this instance, their handler said otherwise: “At any rate, it may very well have only led to another dead end. The news I have for you is of a much more encouraging. You’re being recalled to Detroit.” A flurry of closed files scrawled across his HUD. Declining to open them just yet, Connor allowed himself a slight frown, brows knitting. How was this encouraging news? Reading the unspoken question, Amanda’s gaze went sharp. “Is that a problem?” “No.” As soon as the answer dropped out of his mouth, he reconsidered. “I’m only wondering why this extra - confidance is necessary.” It was a very vulnerable, open stance he was in here. His defensive parameters weren’t quite certain how to compensate. He wasn’t adept at this, unlike Dennis who always knew how to ask without testing their handler’s patience. Dove in hand, she stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and as she did another gust of wind rippled the trees around them. “It’s necessary because I’ve deigned it necessary, Connor. That’s all you need wonder about.” Meaning, he shouldn’t be wondering at all. The chastising was deserved. Just as quickly as it appeared, the hostility faded from her gaze. “I understand your curiosity. You’re made to think, above all else. What would you believe if I said you weren’t the only one to ever speak out of turn?” The dual-meaning to her words didn’t go over his head. Frowning a degree deeper, Connor curled his fingers into loose fists. “I’d say I already know I’m by no means unique. I’m the fiftieth iteration of my model.” And surely those forty-nine others before him had their moments of spontaneous, erratic speech. Each may have had slightly differing proclivities as to when and where they would speak up. But those idiosyncrasies weren’t enough to color one from the next. Or had they been? What came next sounded just as random as he had ever known Amanda to sound: “And if I told you there was a fifty-first?” For a microsecond he felt a lag spike, processes dialing down a moment as they took in and assimilated that news with what he already knew. The conclusion they bore as a result turned the frown into an almost-grimace. A leaden weight seeped from his torso into his gut. Maybe it could be called disappointment, but he wouldn’t dare acknowledge it such. Not here, in front of her. “I’ve… already been outmoded?” “Not quite.” The dove stirred in her hands, blinking its glassy eyes before shifting its grip on the woman’s fingers. Raising it to eye level for a look, Amanda favored it with another stroke along the neck. “It wasn’t our intention, Connor. I’m sure your self-diagnostics have already alerted you to the redundancy failure in your hardware. Have you noticed any gaps in your memory, or that perhaps some things are taking longer for you to process than your partners? When one of your disks failed, although you remained intact, the data was uploaded before it was forever lost. What was meant to be one unit’s commissioning - became two.” Question after question stacked up at the back of his throat, vying for purchase, trying to be the first one out. Subtly he bit the side of one cheek, mindful to turn his head aside so she would not see it draw taut. He wouldn’t let himself become upset. Not yet. Not before he knew more. It mattered not if there were gaps in his recollection. He wasn’t meant to give serious consideration to them. He had more important tasks to attend to than waste RAM on it. Whatever the fault, he hadn’t lost focus. “You mean, there’s another… ‘me’, currently in service?” Instead of immediately cull one or both of them, CyberLife had made something out of the apparent accident. Who had benefited for it was anyone’s guess. “In a way. He isn’t so much another you as… half of what was meant to be you.” Waiting for him to look back and meet her eyes again, Amanda pulled on a faux-sympathetic smile. “I know it all sounds a tad meta, but it doesn’t invalidate any of the work you’ve done. You’ve performed exceptionally in spite of your handicap, which is good news. The program is being consolidated. You and your partners are to go back to Detroit to meet him.” Listening to her, it might have sounded like a veiled compliment. Outwardly, she seemed to genuinely approve. Sticking to his objectives, no matter the petty distractions, was a steadfast quality any priority-based AI would relate to. Inwardly, the real context of his condition was at the phrase’s core, the official term the company quantified the redundancy failure as. A handicap. He was one approximate half of what used to be a whole fully-functional prototype. Nevertheless he had kept on going, none the wiser, thinking it was all part of the intent. Because who was he to think different? To wonder about blank spaces? CyberLife might have called such a tunnel-visioned approach “good news”. But then he wasn’t the one to make such a big break in the investigation, was he? That was to be credited to his… better half. Lapsing into just one of those long, thoughtful spells he once thought of as normal, Connor stopped short at the realization. His face had gone back to blank in the interim. The urge to grimace again, a flicker of distress eking along his wires, came and went. Amanda didn’t want to see him ask more questions. She expected conformation here. To react in any other fashion was unnecessarily contradictory. This wasn’t a decommission slip. It was new orders, nothing else. It wasn’t reason to lash out and tantrum. Tantrums were pointless. Amanda interrupted before that train of thought could warm up: “Has that affected your opinion, Connor? Would you rather remain deployed?” A more blatantly-testable question, there never was. She only expected one answer out of him, something to reaffirm what he had been described as. To give any other was just one reason for his serial number to be penciled onto that slip. Machines were made to obey, not pick and choose. “My preferences are irrelevant. If it’s for the good of the investigation, Detroit is where we’ll go.” With another feigned smile, Amanda nodded. “You’ll all be given a brief quality-assurance check before you go, but for the sake of clarity, we’re going to assign you a new designation.” It didn’t sound like the kind of change his handler would suggest lightly. Assuming this other Connor was an equal lookalike, superficially, to pick another name was only wise. Dennis and Nicholas would be updated on the change, so it was of no operational consequence. ‘Version Dash-Fifty’ didn’t roll off the tongue so well, however. Managing not to sound dispirited at the thought of being parted from the only name he had known, the RK800 raised an eyebrow. There was no cause to be possessive over it, especially given he had been unknowingly sharing all along. “Meaning, you‘ve already chosen one.” At the same time, the necessary rename protocol ran, keying off their words, priming itself for the inevitable change. There was no reason for Amanda to have to augment what he could alter himself. Enough people had had their hands on his code, permissible and otherwise. “In the event, yes. We’ve had it readied for some time.” The trio of doves, milling on the branch as they were, stopped grooming each other’s feathers. They were the only viable audience to this change. At least they made for a calmer, more objective set of witnesses than Dennis and Nicholas would have been. They may not approve of the name change, but they would concede it being necessary. What choice did they have, after all? “RK800, register your name.” Automatically, every routine went into temporary suspension, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Amanda’s access commands were on par with those of any company technician. He couldn’t refute it any more than deny the sunlight on the back of his neck. Maybe it was both factors, making him feel warm under the collar all too suddenly. “Zero.” Just like that. The four-lettered designation rewrote itself across every last file it saw. The previous six-letter name was blotted out, painted over like it had never been there at all, like it had belonged to someone else the whole time. “...My name is Zero.” It might not be the most endearing name ever. The fact it represented turning over to the next page of his given book was somewhat encouraging. The plan was going forward, like it or not, so he may as well take the path of least resistance. Not like he could just commandeer a helicopter and fly off into the horizon. He half expected that to be the end of their encounter. Amanda managed to surprise him again, reaching up to touch his sleeve before his eyes could close. Stay, the gesture said. The dove she held seemed to reanimate, cooing and warbling as it was gently transferred from one set of hands to the other. It’s gleaming white feathers seemed all the more pearl-like against his pale fingers. Clawed feet splayed, it settled into his palms like they were a tailor-made nest. He would have marveled at how lightweight and soft to the touch it was, if it weren’t for one glaring, unsettling sidenote. Amanda had never given him anything before.

----

How? * The 50-51 split happened as the result of a failed memory drive in Connor’s RAID 0 configuration, an extremely rare occurrence that has not yet happened with previous RK iterations. *** RAID 0 is the process of dividing a body of data into blocks and spreading the data blocks across multiple storage devices (like SSDs), in a redundant array of independent disks ( RAID ) group. A stripe consists of the data divided across the set of hard disks or SSDs, and a striped unit refers to the data slice on an individual drive. ***** Because striping spreads data across more physical drives, multiple disks can access the contents of a file, enabling writes and reads to be completed more quickly. However, unlike other RAID levels, RAID 0 does not have parity. Disk striping without parity data does not have redundancy or fault tolerance, so that means if a drive fails, all data on that drive is lost - or in Zero’s case (because he has the means to do so before the data is lost / is continually backing up that stored data to the cloud), transferred to a new host body, -51, thus splitting Connor’s personality and memory. If you don’t understand what RAID (redundant arrangement of independent disks) is, you can read about it on Wikipedia. RAID configurations are sometimes used to optimize read and write time, making computations faster and more effective- the downside is, if one disk fails, the data is lost forever. By 2038, significant improvements to the RAID 0 configuration have been made by Cyberlife to feature Intelligent Striping, a form of Parity which mirrors base programming but stripes data through use of partitions. While it is rare for SSD’s to fail, sometimes hardware has defects. Lucky for Connor, when one of his disks started to fail, the data just downloaded to another body before it was lost. One last thing- in the language of Binary, the number 0 represents “off” (remain a machine) and 1 represents “on” (become a deviant). Probably our favorite part of this.

[samuraiko]

Semi-Useful Notes for Writing for THE ROYAL TUTOR

(Author’s Note: This includes all twelve episodes of the anime (plus the movie), as well as up through Chapter 84 of the manga (18 Oct 2019) and what info I can glean from the Character Book (unfortunately it’s all in Japanese). I will continually update this post as the series progresses and new spiffy stuff shows up, so visit my Master List of my ROYAL TUTOR Stuff to see the latest version.)

While writing A Noble Soul (which is done, by the way!), I had the idea that I personally love the little touches of authenticity that make a story more 'real,' and hey, if nothing else, I learn a few things along the way. (I *am* a researcher, after all!) So I did a lot of searching to find the real-world analogues of the buildings, references, history, and so forth from the series. As you’ll see in the descriptions, I explain how I determined which ones were which.

You’re welcome to post questions, comments, share this, etc. Hope it helps anyone else who wants to write for the ROYAL TUTOR fandom! (Quick question - would everyone prefer me to include chapter references for stuff? It’d make this post much longer, but if the fandom thinks it’d be useful, I can give it a shot.)

So, here we go!

GRANZREICH FAMILY INFO

Viktor von Granzreich, current ruler of the kingdom of Granzreich, assumed the throne at 18 (considering his father’s much later death, this may have been for reasons of health on his father’s part, possible abdication on his father’s part, or other political reasons)

Maria von Granzreich, Viktor’s mother, still living

NOTE: Her sibling (name and gender as yet unmentioned) is the Queen’s parent

Father’s name as yet unmentioned, died of natural causes at ‘a ripe old age’

NOTE: The princes mention in earlier chapters that they do remember their grandfather from when they were small, so his death is relatively recent)

Viktor’s wife (appears only once in flashback, name as yet unmentioned)

NOTE: One of her siblings (not sure if brother or sister) is the parent of Beatrix von Lothringen

(Beatrix also has three younger brothers and one younger sister)

Viktor’s children:

Eins von Granzreich, Viktor’s eldest child and firstborn son

Kai von Granzreich, Viktor’s second son

Currently engaged to Beatrix von Lothringen, first cousin to the princes

Bruno von Granzreich, Viktor’s third son

Leonhard von Granzreich, Viktor’s fourth son

Licht von Granzreich, Viktor’s fifth son

Adele von Granzreich, Viktor’s sixth child and only daughter

LOCATIONS:

GRANZREICH (real world analogue: Austria)

Granzreich population: ~6 million

Side note: Both Viktor and Leonhard are shown riding white horses - these are the famed Lipizzaner stallions, from the Spanish Riding School of Vienna, Austria

Other side note: Viktor’s typical outfit is clearly inspired by the military field uniform of Franz Josef I, Emperor of Austria (the white variant that the princes wear on some of the covers/inside art is the gala/formal version); the three medals shown on Viktor’s uniform are the Order of the Golden Fleece around his neck, what appears to be a simplified version of the Long Service Cross over his heart, and what appears to be a simplified version of a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of Maria Theresa just below that (a round circle with a cross).

90% of Granzreich’s population is Gherman (see below)

3% of Granzreich’s population is Kvel (see below)

Wienner (capital) (real world analogue: Vienna, Austria)

Wienner's population: ~1.3 million

Weissburg/Weisburg Palace (both spellings are used) (real world analogue: Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria) - specifically, the part often shown as denoting the palace is the Neue Berg wing

Karl Theater (real world analogue: Carltheater) - operettas

Remnant Theater (possible real world analogue: Raimund Theatre) - operettas

National Opera House (real world analogue: Staatsoper (originally Vienna Court Opera)) - opera house

National Art Museum (real world analogue: Kunsthistorisches Museum - directly opposite the palace, it is the largest art museum in the country; the image of the museum behind Heine when he announces the prize matches the façade of the building)

Granzreich University (real world analogue: there is no University of Austria, per se, but there is the University of Graz (the second largest city in Austria), which is the second largest and second oldest university in Austria)

Wienner University (real world analogue: University of Vienna, the building shown in both the anime and the manga is the main building - this is where Doctor Dmitri (and later Bruno) comes to lecture – it is also recognized as a leading institution for studies in Humanities – Bruno would do well here studying Philosophy!)

Prunksaal (real world analogue: Prunksaal) – the national library (also housed within the palace in another building)

Within the Prunksaal is the Royal Archive, where historical documents, judicial records, going back hundreds of years, and other documents the royal family keeps from one generation to another are preserved; only royals and a fraction of statesmen are permitted to use it (this is the place referenced in the anime that Prince Licht says even princes can’t visit without the king’s express permission)

The plaza/fountain where the KaseKrainer stand is (real world analogue: Donnerbrunnen Fountain in the center of the Neuer Markt)

Granzreich Military Academy (real world analogue: Theresian Military Academy (one of the oldest in the world) - yearly had 100 nobles and 100 commoners enrolled)

Princes are enrolled at the age of 15 (in-series)

Schwarz Palace (real world analogue: Schloss Neuwaldegg, aka Villa Schwarzenberg - at first I thought this was the Palais Schwarzenberg, but double-checking the architecture confirms it's the Schloss) - in-series, given to a general who played a major role in the war 150 years ago by the reigning king, Friedrich IV, and currently Prince Eins’ residence

Kohl Street, the site of Café Mitter Meyer's second location (real world analogue: Kohlmarkt, which is indeed right next to the palace, and leads past the Catholic Church of St. Peter)

The train station (mentioned in-series when Viktor gives directions, as well as the departure point for various trips) (real world analogue: Wien Südbahnhof, Vienna’s main train station)

Wienner Grand Hotel (mentioned in-series as Herman Koenig’s previous place of employ) (real world analogue: Grand Hotel Wien, Vienna’s first Grand Hotel, opened in 1870, and *the* last word in elegance - Herman would have worked in the Kavalierbar, the hotel’s bar/lounge) 

Augustinian Church (Augustinerkirche) (not mentioned in series, just a useful note) - the parish church of the royal court (located next to the Hofburg)

Salzichl (the royal villa and hot springs) (real world analogue: the Kaiser Therme at Bad Ischl, aka the ‘Emperor’s Spa, favoured holiday resort of Emperor Franz Joseph I - and yes, the architecture as shown in the manga is exactly what the villa looks like... Leonhard would his own reasons to love it there, as it also has a renowned pastry shop)

OTHER NATIONS:

Fonsein/Fonseine (both spellings are used, though Fonseine is used more often) (real world analogue: France)

Capital - Fleur (real world analogue: Versailles - while the capital of France is actually Paris, Versailles was the primary residence of French royalty until the revolution, and the art in the manga depicts the Palace of Versailles and its famed gardens (which, as Bruno ruefully notes, are in fact larger than the gardens of Weissburg Palace, aka the Hofburg). Rather than differentiate between Versailles and Paris (approximately 15 miles away), the manga conflates the two of them together, as the map that Claude shows the princes depicts Paris’s center. Also, the manga accurately states it’s a half-day from Wienner to Fleur by train - at a guess, the train station that the princes arrive at is Gare de l’Est.) Some of the famous sights in Fleur include:

The Etoile Arc (real world analogue: the Arc de Triomphe, and as Claude points out, is a monument to France’s endurance through war and hardship, and is carved with bas-reliefs indicating peace and friendship)

The Opera House (real world analogue: the famed Paris Opera House (immortalized in literature by Gaston Leroux in his novel The Phantom of the Opera), stated to have been completed “five years ago” (as the Paris Opera House was completed in 1875, this puts the current date at 1880-ish)

The Art Museum (real world analogue: the museum depicted here is the Louvre, and Claude is not kidding when he says you could spend a week and STILL not see all the art museums in Paris)

The Cathedral (real world analogue: Notre-Dame de Paris - immortalized in literature by Victor Hugo is his novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame, although Leonhard possibly mis-translates Claude’s description as to when it was built - Notre-Dame de Paris was completed FIVE hundred and fifty years earlier, not FOUR hundred and fifty)

The Department Store (real world analogue: because the interior art is so limited, this is likely one of three places - Le Bon Marché, the Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville (BHV), or Printemps Haussman)

Current queen: Queen Isabelle (distant blood relatives of the same family as the von Granzreichs) (real world analogue: debatable, as post-1870, France was ruled by republican government, rather than a monarchy - also as of Chapter 69, Claude confirms that his mother and father are both abroad (so yes, Isabelle is currently married).

Her son, Claude, first prince of Fonseine, the only child (and a child not much older than Adele, and THIS is Adele's intended fiance!) (I was under the impression she was affianced to someone else already!)

Granzreich and Fonseine have been in friendly relations for the past 200 years through royal intermarriage

AND EINS IS TO BE ENGAGED TO SOMEONE IN FONSEINE (correction - Eins is later revealed to be engaged to the Princess of Belgian (see below); however given the close intermarriages between their real world analogues of France, Austria, Spain, Germany, and Belgium, this may have been a negotiation point between Fonseine and Granzreich for upcoming treaties or other political purposes)

Beyer (real world analogue: Bavaria (southern state in Germany))

Belgian (real world analogue: Belgium)

Current queen: Queen Charlotte (real world analogue: Charlotte, Princess of Wales, wife to Leopold I of Belgium)

Princess Paola, second princess of Belgian (later referred to in Chap 77 as Charlotte) (real world analogue: Charlotte, later Empress of Mexico - possible reason for the name change is to avoid confusion - her brothers are also mentioned in the chapter... real life analogues for them would be Leopold II and Phillippe (their third brother died in infancy)

Viktor confirms in Chap 77 that the two nations are still on good terms

Ghermany (real world analogue: Germany)

Iel (real world analogue: Palestine/Israel)

Kingdom fell 1800 years ago. Kvel is used more as an indication of the Jewish populace rather than a specific nation, both in terms of bloodline and social/religious heritage

Madri (real world analogue: Spain)

Nederland/Neterlanden (both spellings are used) (real world analogue: the Netherlands)

Orosz (manga)/Erosz (anime) (real world analogue: Russia)

Capital - Pietarigrad (real world analogue: St. Petersburg - while the capital of Russia is Moscow, St. Petersburg (at one point named Petrograd) is Russia's second largest city, is Russia's cultural capital, and is the port city referenced here) (and it's 1800 km from Wienner to Pietarigrad, and the railroad route they show IS accurate to travel from Vienna to St. Petersburg!)

Grand Hotel Orosz (real world analogue: Grand Hotel Europe (confirmed via pictures of the architecture compared to the manga; opened in 1875, and one of the three most luxurious hotels in St Petersburg)

Orosz University (real world analogue: Saint Petersburg State University, the oldest university in Russia)

Doctor Dmitri references an art museum while discussing Pietarigrad (real world analogue: the Russian Museum)

Grand Theater (real world analogue: Mariinsky Theatre, the preeminent music theatre of late 19th century Russia, and the site of the premieres of most of Russia's most famous ballets, operas, and other music)

Romano (real world analogue: Russia or POSSIBLY Poland, more on that in a second)

King: Alexander Alexandrovitch Romano (real world analogue: Czar Alexander II)

Crown Prince Ivan Alexandrovitch Romano

Prince Eugene Alexandrovitch Romano

Russian uses patronymic names, so your middle name is a derivative of your parent)

ALTERNATE real world analogue: Poland - since Austria and Russia do not share a border (and mention is made of inspecting mines on the border between their nations), it’s possible that instead Romano (while borrowing heavily from Russian inspiration for names) is actually Poland. (Rationale: what is modern-day Czechia was originally part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, which DOES share a border with Poland.) While Polish is traditionally written in Latin script, it *can* be written in Cyrllic.

I’m still nailing down whether the Romano flag is based on an actual nation flag.

Venezia/Veneto (both are used) (real world analogue: Venice)

Laguna Empire (real world analogue: TBD)

Kingdom of Kataro (possible real world analogue: Qatar)

Yapan (real world analogue: Japan)

Eastern Continent (real world analogue: Asia)

Western Continent (real world analogue: Europe)

GRANZREICH’S ECONOMY:

1 florin = 100 kreutzer (real world analogue: the florin and the kreutzer, ratio the same following Austria-Hungary's decimalization of the currency system in 1857)

A doll costs 55 kreutzer

The Royal Guard makes 30k kreutzer/year (300 florins/year, as per the anime and the manga)

The ransom for Maximilian and Heine was to be 1500 florins, or 150,000 kreutzer… meaning the ransom for Kai at 1 million florins was 100 million kreutzer -- Heine wasn't kidding when he says it's the annual budget for a small country in the 1880s, (In the manga, the ransom is set at 300,000 florins for the prince, and 1500 florins for Heine and Maximilian)

Licht, on the other hand, earns 120 florins working at the cafe... which strikes me as odd because he only works one shift a week (even if a shift is potentially 12 hours). Now, this might actually be him figuring he works full-time, which would make more sense. But this has to be a YEARLY income, there’s no way he makes this much in a month if a member of the Royal Guard makes 300 florins a year.

Rosenberg quotes a rent of 150 florins for a 2br flat... again, this has to be for a year, there’s no way this is monthly.

Economic crisis 30 years ago (real world analogue: the European financial crisis beginning in the 1850s)

Granzreich's main industries: porcelain and wine

Also agriculture, according to the author's notes at the end of Vol 2

1880s TECHNOLOGY:

COMMUNICATION: Cables/telegrams are now fast enough for a 24-48hr message even all the way across Europe -- and crossing the English channel by ferry takes 1.5-2hrs

LOCAL TRAVEL: Primarily carriages, horseback, and walking -- trains are for longer-distance travel

INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL: You can get from London to Perm, Russia within SEVEN DAYS

TRAINS: The Orient Express (1883) went from Paris to Vienna in 15 hours overnight (not much different from now, actually!)

TELEPHONES: The telephone exchange does exist but the infrastructure is still VERY new and not heavily in use yet

POWER: Electricity is rapidly gaining ground for newer construction, but older buildings are still using gas, lamps, candles, etc.

1880′s EUROPEAN CULTURE:

Ballet, opera, operettas, plays, music

Social halls are still separated by 'class' (nobility vs commoner)

Popular dances in Europe at this point include the waltz (DUH, this is Vienna), the redowa, the mazurka, the polka (big shock with Germany next door), the cotillion, and the varsouvienne (another Polish dance)

Social etiquette at an event included the use of 'dance cards' (or fans!) - these were presented with a list of the songs/dances to be held over the course of the event, and if a gentleman wished to engage a lady for one, he wrote down his name (like making a reservation)

There is a TON of information out there about how one does (and does not) behave at a social event during that day and age, and safe bet that our dear princes have had it drilled into them from the time they were small. Some fun ones include:

WHY one wears gloves (because bare hands indicates holding hands, which is SHOCKINGLY intimate)

Not dancing with the same partner more than once (unless you're either engaged or about to be, because it puts you on intimate terms with your partner)

What is socially acceptable to eat at a party (the reason trifles and 'snacks' are served is so no one can embarrass themselves at table)

Games are occasionally combined with dancing (if you've seen AMADEUS, where during the masquerade they're playing Musical Chairs as they dance, and the loser has to pay a forfeit, you get the idea)

[ask-de-writer]

PARADOX PLANET : World of Sea : Science Fiction : 1 part

Return to the Master Story Index

PARADOX PLANET

by

Glen Ten-Eyck

This is an excerpt from a novel in progress called GONE TO SEA

2579 words in chapter 1

copyright 2012

writing begun 2005

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images provided that I receive a copy of each image for my archive. I will further allow the use of printed copies for educational use in school classes. No charge of any kind may be made for this use, whether paper, ink, binding, packaging, distribution or any other charge whatsoever.

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1. Paradox Planet

This was going to be difficult, thought Captain Alain. In the wardroom of his ship, the ESA 14, he faced Mr. Torres, the leader of the colonial expedition. Mr. Torres was not a happy man.

“This is an outrage!” he said ferociously. “I can read clocks and calendars as well as any! We were to be awakened from Crossover Sleep on arrival at the system. It has been over a year, local time, since you got here.” He paused to breathe heavily, angrily and went on, “Now, only I have been awakened! What are you up to?”

Captain Alain Looked over at the gray painted metal bulkhead relieved only by pictures mounted to the wall. The duty crews painted them as a hobby to fill the long empty years of the passage. Even faster than light Crossover Drives had limits. Stars were still an unimaginably great distance apart, many of them were years apart. This expedition, two hundred and eighteen light-years distant from Earth, at just over twenty one years of flight time, was no exception. Unless some further distant worthwhile planet had been found in the passing years, this was the longest colonial run that the ESA had tried.

Captain Alain looked down at the pile of files, data disks and crystals in front of him and back to Mr. Torres. He decided to be blunt.

“You know that due to energy constraints, this had to be a one way trip for you and the other colonists. We were trying to find a way to save your expedition’s lives. We failed.”

That brought Mr. Torres up short. “Trying to save us? You failed?” His eyes went wide, “Did my people die?”

“No, they are all well and asleep. The problem is not on the ship. It is the target world. It is everything that the probe reported. We need to report back and have the probes reprogrammed. Nobody expected a world like Sea.”

“C?”, asked Mr. Torres, puzzled. “Is it because it’s the third world? Why call it C?”

“Sea, as in ocean,” said Captain Alain reaching into his pile of data and handing over a crystal. “Look for yourself.”

Mr. Torres activated the viewing controls and knit his brows in concentration as he examined the picture and data flowing beneath it. “Where are the land masses? On the other side? It says that I’ve rotated the view but it’s no different.”

“It did rotate, Mr. Torres. There is no land anywhere on Sea.” Captain Alain paused to collect his thoughts. “So far as we can tell, the last island sank for good between one and a half and two and a half million years ago.” He gestured at the image. “If you boost the magnification far enough you will find floating weed mats and shallow areas that you can use to follow the rotation of the globe.”

Mr. Torres looked again, at high magnification. The skilled ecologist in him rebelled at what he was seeing. “This is not possible. Without land masses to break up air flows by both barrier and convection effects the atmosphere should turn into high speed bands of wind.”

“My crew and I are well aware of the problem, Mr. Torres,” said Captain Alain with the air of one who wished that he had not found the answer to a puzzle. “The reason that the atmosphere does not band is every bit as bad as what you have just seen.”

Once again he removed an image crystal from his pile of data. “As you watch this, bear in mind that it is a direct recording of an actual event. You can change the time compression to suit your own taste. It won’t alter what you will see.” Wryly he added, “We have already said that it’s impossible. It will spare you the effort.”

In utter disbelief, Mister Torres stopped the crystal playback and restarted it several times. It showed the birth of a storm. A large rotating depression was forming at about sixty five degrees South Latitude. Sympathetically, Captain Alain said, “Go ahead and let it play. It only gets worse.”

The storm swept north along a large curve that appeared to be dictated by Coriolis force. The warmer seas of the tropics fueled the storm and it grew into a monster with a core of powerful storm cells over a thousand miles across. The vastly aberrant storm’s clouds did not limit themselves to the troposphere. They towered high into the stratosphere, where no sane cloud mass, let alone a whole cyclonic storm, belonged. The wind speeds achieved over three hundred and twenty kilometers per hour.

The counterclockwise rotation of the storm should have killed it when it crossed the equator to the Northern Hemisphere where the same Coriolis force would now try to make the storm rotate clockwise. Instead, the storm broke apart into individual thunderstorms that followed precise vectors across the equator and reassembled themselves into a giant clockwise rotating storm, all angular momentum preserved, and with no loss of wind speed.

It followed a Coriolis arc north and finally cold northern waters robbed its energy. It broke up into thunderstorms, squalls and fogs about sixty five degrees North Latitude.

Captain Alain said, “Hard to believe, isn’t it? We have observed eight of those aberrations of nature and they ALL do that. Because of the form of the path that they follow, we are calling them Coriolis Storms. It’s as though there were a guiding intelligence handling the storm. Lovely fantasy. It would take at least nine of the most powerful synchronous orbit Weather Sats with a fleet of Low Orbit backups to get even one of those storms across the equator. It would be touch and go, even with equipment like that. All that we have here are the three moons and the primary star. We just haven’t figured out the natural mechanism yet, that’s all.

“The worst part of this is that while the spacing and placement of the storms appears to be completely unpredictable, statistically every part of the planet will get hit at least once every five years by one of these monsters. The crew has a betting pool on where and when the next one will occur. The sample is still too small to be sure but it is beginning to appear that the storms are not completely random in their occurrence.”

Mister Torres surprised Captain Alain. He accepted the statements without comment and quietly sat, thinking. At last he spoke thoughtfully, “I’m not an engineer but perhaps we can deal with the storms by going under them. Build domes or habitats on the reefs maybe. The water is calm only a few feet below the waves.”

Captain Alain gave Mister Torres points for being quick on his mental feet. Gently, he said, “My crew and I ARE engineers. We did think of that. Unfortunately, it can’t be done. A dome is an engineering nightmare. The buoyancy is massive. The pressure gradient from top to bottom is all wrong. The air pressure inside the dome is controlled by the depth of the lowest part of it. That means that the dome will try to burst at the top because the water pressure is lowest there and the inside air is at the pressure of deepest part where the water pressure is highest. Small habitats would be possible except that we don’t have the materials to build that many of them and can’t get what we need from the environment.

“We brought equipment to mine on land or in space. We can fabricate almost any device except for a tiny problem. There’s no land to mine and the rest of the system is metal poor. This world does have quite a lot of high quality ores. Unfortunately they are under about fifty to over nine hundred meters of water. We can’t get at them. Captain Alain inhaled heavily and added, “We can’t even get useful silica sand on this planet. It’s in the same situation as the metal ores. The common coral sand is useless for glass making.

“What we can do is process the local coral and coral sands into a form of concrete. It is possible to get useful amounts of aluminum, magnesium and small amounts of titanium from the seawater. We can go to the three moons for silicates to make glasses. They even have small amounts of available iron and some other useful metals. The silicates make structural glass a real possibility. Fiberglass is also practical. Many of the local seaweeds will process to yield various useful plastic resins for both the fiberglass and to mold directly into useful objects.

“In this environment, only the titanium and structural glass are durable. Corrosion will destroy the other metals in short order. Concrete made from coral is subject to long term erosion by the water, not to mention the many animals and plants that will attack it. Even the fiberglass will have a limited life due to long term water absorption. Of course you can recycle the fiberglass materials.”

Now it was Mister Torres who spoke. “You know about the nutritional deficiency issues of this world, um … Sea? Good name, by the way.”

Captain Alain accepted the compliment with a nod and replied, “Yes. You will be short a pair of critical amino acids, a small raft of vitamins, and there’s a carbohydrate problem of some sort.”

It was Mister Torres who spread his hands now. “You are right. We brought the solutions to all of that along in the form of crop seeds and embryonic animals. We did not expect to have no place to raise them. Hydroponics could answer the plant problem, perhaps. The animals are a different matter altogether. They have to have a certain amount of space for proper development.” He paused and looked thoughtfully at a painting of Mt Fuji, back on Earth, “Could we bypass the growth of the animals and do a carniculture system? I ask because that is more an engineering problem.”

Captain Alain considered in his turn. Mister Torres let him think. A thousand lives hung in the balance. At last, Captain Alain said, “It could be done. It has been done before. There is a nutrient limitation. You have to be able to supply the culture tissues with the necessary amino acids. The whole animal would manufacture its own from the crops fed to it. The culture can’t do that. I think that with the available resources, you are stuck with raising the animals whole. I can ask. We didn’t think of that solution.” He dictated a note for his ship’s system engineers to look into it.

Suddenly Mister Torres exclaimed, “Those storms all follow the same pattern! That means that if we build a platform, we can design it to be strongest in a direction that will resist the storms best! What sort of tidal variation are we dealing with?”

Captain Alain thought a moment and consulted his data. His brows knit as he worked through the problem. “When the sun and the moons line up unfavorably, the sea level can drop until the shallows become shoal-water. At the other extreme, the water depth can go to twenty meters. A storm depression coupled with a low tide can actually bare the upper parts of the coral. That kills the coral and limits upward growth.”

Mister Torres shook his head. “Between storms, coral should grow on the skeletons of the dead coral and cause island building. Why doesn’t it?”

Captain Alain realized from the form of the question that Mister Torres was giving him credit for intelligence and was pleased. He answered, “There’s a common fish with a hard beak. It seems to think that the dead coral is a delicacy and mows the reef down as it grazes. It chews up the stone to get the dead organisms. That’s what makes the coral sand.”

Mister Torres nodded. “Like the parrot fish back home. Makes sense. The same fish attacks our concrete too?”

Captain Alain just nodded. Then he had a thought. Excitedly he said, “We could put titanium mesh in the outer layers of the concrete. That would keep the fish out of anything structural. Once the platform was built, you could process more concrete on your own. You could re-plaster the areas that the fish attack.”

He subsided, “You’d have all your eggs in one basket, though. The thing would have to be huge. We can only marshal the resources to build one.”

“It’s not really that important,” said Mister Torres softly. “There’s no possible way for us to survive until a ship can return with what we do need. Still, we have to have the platform for morale reasons. My people need hope. It’s all that we can really do for them.”

Captain Alain suggested, “We can request a recovery expedition as soon as we get back. It is ESA policy to have a colony ship ready for just such an emergency.”

Mister Torres shook his head negatively. “I fear that the war that was shaping up will be long over when you get back. I pray that you will be able to survive your return. I do not think that there is any possibility of our survival.”

Captain Alain looked compassionately at Mister Torres. He shook his head. “You’re right. The war will change everything back home. We received messages from Earth before we got The drive up to threshold energy. The shooting did start. We were ordered to return but disobeyed. I can only hope that some form of the ESA has survived.

“As for your platform, even with the Crossover Drive to push us faster than light, we can’t get back to you in time. No platform that we can build will survive long enough. It is going to get hit by at least five and probably more of those Coriolis Storms. One of them will sweep it away. Without its facilities, your people will die of malnutrition in fairly short order.”

Mister Torres looked back at Captain Alain and said bleakly, “I know that. What we are going to do is simple. We will lie to your crew and my colonists alike. We will fake evidence to show that the necessary nutrients can be found in the ecology. We just can’t localize them well enough from space. The search will keep hope in them to the last.”

Captain Alain closed his eyes in pain. This was indeed difficult. Why couldn’t Mister Torres be angry, rail at fate or just cry? This calm acceptance, this cold blooded planning to deceive a thousand doomed people was beyond him. He shook himself and said, “Very well, we will follow your lead. Two of my crew will have to be in the conspiracy. They are needed to create the false data.”

That simply, the decision was made. With massive labor, a platform was built with all of the best systems, electronic controls and computerized communications. It held laboratories, shops, apartments, docks for boats, recreational and farming spaces. All critical exposed areas, like the upper levels of the farms, could be closed over with locking domes in bad weather. On the platform, a space one kilometer by one and a half kilometers, several stories thick, a thousand people were left on a planet that could not support them. Only one of their number actually knew what had been done.

-The End-