#or I’m just so cracked in the head from dosing so hard on skin creatures

[meltedmush]

I wasn’t sure how to Bingify this, but yeah this works

greetings from. oil painting on paper

[talesofpanem]

If You Can’t Take the Heat...

Author: @xerxia31

Rating: T

Trigger warning: depictions of abuse

Summary: When the summer heat ratchets up, Peeta Mellark finds the bakery’s kitchen an impossible place to be.

Sweat drips into my eyes as I pull yet another tray from the oven, and I try to wipe it away on the shoulder of my heavy canvas apron. Good for preventing burns from hot pans, but stiflingly hot to wear on a day like this. When I spin to set the bread on the counter, my head swims, and I lean heavily against the steel surface, head bowed.

It’s the fifth day in a row of oppressive, intolerable heat that has everyone sluggish and moving more slowly than usual. And it has Mother in a particularly foul temper. You’d think she would be pleased, what with everyone in the district coming to us for bread and tarts since it’s too hot to cook in their own homes. But Mother is never pleased.

Particularly with me.

As if summoned by my uncharitable thoughts, Mother storms back into the kitchen. “Peeta, you stupid creature, get back to work! If you moved any more slowly you’d be going backwards!” I wish I had the guts to point out to her that everything would go a little faster if she was helping, instead of hiding out in the cold storage, pretending to do inventory. But talking back to Mother just makes things worse, and I’m all too aware of just how tenuous my place here is. So I keep my mouth shut and push through the nausea and dizziness, moving the hot loaves of nut bread to wire cooling racks. Behind me, Rye surreptitiously kicks away the brick that we use to prop open the back door when Mother isn’t in the kitchen. She’s convinced that having it open even a crack will have ‘the district riff-raff’ storming our bakery to steal the food. 

Her sentiment, not mine. 

As much as Mother hates me and my brothers, she hates the rest of the district more. Particularly the poor people, which is pretty much everyone. And particularly people from the Seam, which is 9 out of every ten people in District 12.

I go back to my station and concentrate on working. It’s a challenge, getting our usual recipes to turn out well when it’s so hot in the prep area. It makes the pie crusts tough and the bread doughs sticky. Not that our customers complain. They’re just grateful to not have to stoke a fire this week. 

Mother disappears in a huff and I relax a little. The dizziness persists, though. I feel unsteady on my feet, listless and clumsy. Rye, who has been splitting his time between the front shop and the kitchen, passes me a cup of water and I chug it, despite how warm it is. I just have to push through until Dad and Brann get back from the train station. Dad will let me take a break before we unload the carts, I’m sure. I just need to keep it together for another hour at most.  

The bell out front rings again and with a sigh, Rye heads back to man the cash. It’s cooler in the front, without the ovens, but he’s spent as much time with me as he can spare, trying to help me keep up with the baking. Trying to shelter me from Mother’s wrath. 

The water shifts uncomfortably in my empty stomach. It’s been too hot to eat much this week, especially the stale bread that makes up the majority of our diet. And I haven’t really had any appetite anyway. But the sloshing gets worse, and I realize I’m going to be sick. I stagger towards the door, pushing it open and sticking my face in the narrow opening, hoping a bit of air will stave off the sickness. 

Voices float back. Mother, promising that something is right back in the kitchen. In my lightheaded, disoriented state, I don’t realize that she’s heading my way until it’s too late. 

“Lazy, ungrateful boy,” she shrieks, grabbing a fistful of my hair. I’m already slumped against the doorframe, I don’t have the energy to defend myself or even to flinch. Her barrage of insults continue, I think, but it all sounds tinny and warped. She’s pulling me back from the door and I can’t even warn her that’s a bad idea as I start retching. 

She screams. 

My scalp is on fire as she heaves me through the door using her grip on my hair. But that pain is eclipsed by the ground rushing up to meet me as I careen off the back steps, landing on the hard packed dirt in an explosion of agony. 

The bakery door slams shut above me with a ringing metallic finality, and a hot blackness carries me away. 

o-o-o

My head is pounding, by far the worst headache I’ve ever had. I groan, and someone shuffles near me, the crunch of gravel right by my ear. It all rushes back - the heat, the nausea, my mother, taking a header down the cement steps out back. I can’t muster the energy to check, but I’m fairly sure my head took the brunt of it this time. A hand on my shoulder eases me up onto my side. Rye must have found me. I wonder how long I’ve been out here; the sun is no longer beating on my face. The cool edge of a cup, or maybe a flask, presses against my lip. Cold water rushes in; I try to gulp the unexpected delight, to soothe my aching throat, but it retreats. 

“Slowly,” a soft, sultry voice says above me. Definitely not Rye. I crack an eye open and wait for the world to come into focus. 

A pair of silver-grey eyes emerge from a mist that matches them exactly. A little grin lifts my lips. Katniss Everdeen leaning over me. This is the best concussion dream ever. Dark brows crease, and a soft hand presses against my forehead. “You’re a little cooler,” she says, then the hand retreats. I want to complain, to beg her to touch me again. Instead, a cold, wet cloth presses against my forehead, and a similar cloth is lifted from the back of my neck, swapped for a cooler one. I let myself drift away again, to where the pain can’t follow. 

What feels like seconds later I’m shaken awake. “You have to drink more water,” concussion dream Katniss says. This time, when I open my eyes I can focus. I’m still lying on the ground, but not by the bakery door. I’m in the shade of the miller’s shed, my head pillowed on my folded apron, the stench of vomit heavy in the air. 

And Katniss is definitely not a dream. She’s sitting cross-legged beside me, dusty boots tucked under dirty linen pants, what I recognize as her typical hunting apparel. Her usual scruffy leather jacket is absent, probably in deference to the heat. Instead, she’s wearing a dull green shirt with no sleeves, sleekly muscled shoulders bared to my gaze. I take the flask she offers, sipping slowly and cringe internally. The most beautiful girl in school is finally talking to me and I’m lying in the dirt with vomit on my shirt. 

“Are you feeling any better?” Katniss asks. 

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Thank you.” I try to sit up but she stops me with a gentle hand to the shoulder, and I freeze. 

“Give it a few minutes,” she says. “You were out awhile.” 

Panic jolts through me. “How long is awhile?” Mother will kill me for slacking in the kitchen, even if she’s the one who tossed me out here. 

Katniss shrugs. “About forty minutes, I guess?” Shit, I am so dead. Katniss scowls. “You’re lucky you’re not dead. You were hot as a coal stove when I dragged you out of the sun.” My eyes nearly pop out of my head. I did not mean to say that out loud.

“I should get back in,” I say, though I honestly want nothing less than to go back inside that oven and deal with Mother’s wrath. “They’ll be worried.” The look Katniss gives me quashes any hope that she didn’t see exactly what happened. Shame steals through me. She must think I’m pathetic, eighteen years old and letting my mother push me around. Katniss Everdeen would never allow anyone to push her around that way. She’s been taking charge and caring for her entire family since we were just kids.

“She hasn’t come looking,” Katniss says, peeking through the rhododendrons that border the miller’s yard and shield our hiding spot from the bakery door. 

I close my eyes, pain and humiliation burning. Her hand on my head startles me, not checking for injuries, just running gently through my sweaty hair, brushing the overlong curls back. It feels so good to be touched with kindness that it’s all I can do to stave off the tears. She doesn’t say anything, just continues to stroke my hair while I struggle to get ahold of myself.

“You deserve better than this,” she says when I’ve calmed.

“Thank you for finding me,” I say, my voice thick and watery. 

“I owed you,” she says, and her thumb shifts, softly stroking the skin beneath my eye. My eyes pop open in surprise and wonder. There isn’t a wound there now but something about her expression makes me think she’s remembering when there was, what feels like a lifetime ago. 

“Is this about the bread, from when we were kids?” I hate thinking about that day long ago when Katniss, skeletal and starving, had shown up in the bakery yard. I’d done the only thing I could think of to help, scorched some bread in the fire, knowing that while Mother might make us eat the stale and misshapen loaves, she’d never serve a burnt loaf even to us. 

But I know how people in the Seam feel about repaying a favour, no matter how small. Gale Hawthorne had given me a basket of apples and a heaping dose of attitude last fall when I distracted the mayor so Gale could sneak Madge back into her house. It was ridiculous, that he felt he owed me for such a small kindness. But he said that was the Seam way, and I’d never understand. 

I hadn’t even done it for him, not really. I’d just been so damned happy to see him sneaking around with Madge, to find out that he wasn’t with Katniss that way, despite the hours they spend together in the woods on Sundays. So when I saw Gale and Madge kissing on the Undersees’ back steps and heard the mayor coming up the walkway, I engaged him in a conversation. Anyone would do the same.

“No,” she says, then wrinkles her cute little nose. “Well, a little. But not only that.” Her hand falls away, and I push myself up to sitting. 

This is the first time we’ve ever spoken, beyond a muttered good morning when she comes to trade squirrels and goat cheese with my father, and I’m desperate to keep going, despite the circumstances. I tried all through school to think of a way to talk to her, but I always chickened out. Even after our last reaping just 6 weeks ago, I wanted so badly to go congratulate her, but when her family had surrounded her I’d only skulked away. My own family, of course, had been nowhere to be found. 

“Then why?” I ask, searching her eyes. They’re grey, most people in the Seam have grey eyes, but in the shade they almost glow, quicksilver and sparkling. Enchanting.

“I, well. I’ve been watching you. And trying to figure out a way out of your situation.” I cringe again. As the third son, my situation is obvious to anyone who cares to look. There isn’t enough business at the bakery, even in busy times like these, to support three men and their future families. I’ve been kept on past my last Reaping only because Brann hasn’t yet married. But Mother has been working hard to find him a wife, so my days here are numbered. And my choices are slim. Go into the mines or marry a merchant girl with no brothers. Neither of which are very appealing. Though I guess the mines are where I’m likeliest to wind up, since I’d never subject a girl to a loveless marriage with me. I’ve spent far too long watching my parents’ misery. “I was coming to talk to you. That’s when I saw the witch.”

“I’m sorry you saw that,” I admit. 

“I’m not,” she says. “She left you unconscious and bleeding in this heat. You could have died, Peeta.” Her voice, unbelievably, cracks with emotion, and she scowls, looking away.

“And you took care of me.” She could just as easily have knocked on the back door, or gone around front and demanded Rye or Mother bring me in. She could even have called the Peacekeepers. Instead, she took care of me. Not her healer mother, but Katniss herself. My heart feels like it might burst. Despite everything, this might be the best day of my life, hunched in the dirt with the girl of my dreams.

“I did,” she says, swinging her silver gaze back to me. “Anyway, I think I have a plan,” she says.

“Really?” I’ve been trying to come up with a plan for months, a way to live a real life away from Mother and all of her hatred. But I’ve been dragging my feet on implementing anything, because the mines are a hard, horrible life. And because I love baking, at least when Mother isn’t around or when Dad is there to shelter me from her. It’s hard to imagine doing anything else.

Katniss reaches behind her for the canvas bag she usually carries her hunting catches in, but instead of a squirrel or a bunch of herbs, she extracts a book, setting it gingerly in my lap.

It’s old, generations old, maybe even from the dark days. I open it reverently, understanding without her words that she’s sharing something important with me. The early pages are all medicinal herbs with time-faded illustrations and descriptions. Further in are hand-drawn images of plants, with where to find them written in the margins in slanted hand. I glance up, confused, and Katniss smiles. It’s such a rare thing, her smile, that I’m struck dumb. Or dumber, anyway.

She leans into me, her shoulder against my own, and flips the pages almost to the end. More drawings slide by, of edible plants, and handwritten descriptions in what I recognize as Katniss’s hand. A plan, I think, for keeping her family alive. I’m struck by her tenacity. I’ve always known she was fearless. But I’m learning just how smart she is too. Finally, she stops at a drawing of a bushy-topped plant that looks vaguely like the wheat stalks from which bakery flour comes. We don’t grow wheat in District 12, it comes from 10, but I’ve seen pictures of it on the sides of the flour bags that come from the Capitol.

“It’s amaranth,” she says. “You can make flour out of it.” I’m surprised, I had no idea you could make flour out of anything other than wheat. “And this,” she continues, flipping the page, “is buckwheat. Apparently it makes a flour almost the same as what you get in the bakery.”

While I’m enjoying her enthusiasm immensely, I have no idea what this means for me, and I tell her so. She doesn’t get upset with me, she simply grins. “Both of these grow here, in Twelve. I found a book in the library, and I’ve been studying which grains can be used to make breads and cakes. I found these two that looked familiar. Lots and lots of amaranth grow in the valley about a mile from here, and we could probably get the buckwheat to seed in a garden, so we’d have enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“Enough so we could open an eatery, in the Hob,” she says, and her enthusiasm is tempered with a little bit of what looks like fear. “There’s an open booth and it has an oven. You could bake bread and I could sell some of my game, and Prim could sell any extra goat milk and cheese. With Greasy Sae gone, people need a place to buy food that’s not in the merchant quarter. I think we could really make this work. I mean, I know it’s not as good as what you have now…” she trails off, biting her lip.

“My mother wouldn’t allow it,” I say, then immediately want to slap myself when Katniss’s soft, pleased expression hardens into something angry.

“She can’t stop you,” she says fiercely. “She’d never even come into the Hob.” That’s true, there’s no way Mother would be caught dead there. “And if she did,” Katniss continues, “I wouldn’t let her come near you.” That’s incredibly sweet, and my heart turns strangely in my chest. But that’s not really what I mean.

“She won’t let me live at home unless I’m slaving in her bakery.”

“If we’re partners, you won’t have to live there. You won’t ever have to see any of them again, if you don’t want to.”

“How?” I start, then realization kicks in. She’s not just talking about a business partnership.

She’s talking a life partnership.

Marriage in District 12 comes with a house; apart from winning the games, or having your parents die, it’s the only way to get a house in District 12.

I love Katniss, I have loved her in some way since we were five-year-olds. Which is why I can’t let her do this. I can’t let her sentence herself to a loveless life with me just because of some misguided sense of obligation.

“Marriage?” I gasp. Katniss nods, eyes wide and serious. “Why would you do this?” I ask again, like a muttation parroting the same word over and over. 

She huffs. “I told you, because you deserve better than this.”

“So do a lot of people in District Twelve,” I remind her. 

“I don’t care about those people,” she whispers, and I hold my breath. But the rest of the words don’t come. And without them, this can’t happen.

“I can’t let you throw your life away for me,” I tell her, and it hurts my heart to do so, with everything I’ve ever wanted laid out before me. But it isn’t really mine for the taking. “Sentencing yourself to a life of misery won’t be doing me any favours.”

“It won’t be like that,” she says, defiant, but also maybe just a little hurt. She wraps her arms around herself and looks away, through the rhododendrons again. “Maybe I want this for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that?”

“Do you?” I whisper. A thousand emotions play across her expressive face while I hold my breath, everything I’d never even dared to dream hanging in the balance.

“Yes,” she says, barely a breath. “I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe someday-”

I cut off her words with my mouth, kissing her with all of the joy in my heart, however puke-scented it might be. She stiffens, but doesn’t push me away, and after a moment her hands slide into my hair again, but this time they twist in the curls at the nape of my neck.

The kiss is everything a first kiss should be, sweet and perfect, and when we break apart I am dizzy again, but this time with euphoria. “I have loved you forever,” I confess, and she blinks.

“But you’ve never even spoken to me, no matter how many times I came to the bakery…”

I laugh, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. “I’m a coward,” I tell her, and she laughs, a gorgeous, musical sound.

“That kiss didn’t feel very cowardly.” Then she leans in.

Our second kiss is slower, but no less enthusiastic, and when her hot little tongue pokes shyly into my mouth, all of the blood in my head runs south. “Katniss,” I breathe against her lips, and I can taste her smile.

“Come on,” she says, pulling away and reaching for the book, slipping it into her bag. “Let me show you the stall. Then we can talk about what to do next.” She extends her hand, and as she does, I hear the bakery door clang open, Mother’s shrill voice bellowing my name.

I don’t even think twice, wrapping Katniss’s tiny hand in my own much larger one, and letting her lead me into the future.

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

A Year Without Part Nine

Everything came to a screeching halt just a few feet away as Karai’s shrill voice carried to the chaos. Even the remaining foot ninja froze, their eyes locked in on their mistress.

The cold blade pressed into your skin biting just enough to earn a warm dip of blood from the newly opened wound. The kunoichi wrapped her other hand around your waist pulling you back against her and wrapped her lips around the column of your throat biting down harshly.

A strangled cry of pain erupted from your lungs as Karai’s teeth sunk into your flesh piercing it, instantly flooding the woman’s mouth with the warmth of your blood. “A-Ah-ahh what the fuck, are you a god damn vampire?!” Karai laughed into your torn flesh as her tongue darted across your skin lapping at the sticky crimson liquid moaning enthusiastically as she did so.

“Stop!” Leonardo’s voice came over the hush stepping out in front of the mess of dead and injured foot ninja followed by his three brothers. True to his nature Leo’s eyes were trained in on the immediate threat while Donnie, Raph and Mikey were focused on the blade at your throat.

Your eyes wide with pain you saw the newly acquired cuts and gouges on the four brother’s green scaled skin, but the foot looked even more worse for wear. Even with no weapons for the three and a single katana for Leo the four of them put up one hell of a fight nearly wiping out the force that had invaded the room to save their mistress and rein the mutants in.

And you might have been able to get out of there if you hadn’t dropped your guard and now at the mercy of the psychopathic bitch who was currently latched on to you in more than one place on your body. Karai’s long pointed nails dug into your side and her warm lips detached from your skin making you hiss when the air hit your new weeping injury.

“You’re mine you big beautiful beasts. You four are staying here with me as my personal elite ninja, with special privileges of course. But your next move will only effect what happens to this little lady.” Karai’s smile widened hearing all four of the mutant’s growl in anger stepping forward. “Come quietly and take your medicine like good obedient warriors and this beautiful creature goes free, unharmed. Think of it as a signing bonus for joining my team. Buuutt…..continue to fight and I drain every last drop of her life force right here, right now in front of you. You’ll get to witness first hand her painful and rather messy demise. Either way, this doesn’t end the way you were hoping. Save those magnificent bodies of yours further abuse and hers as well and surrender without a fuss.”

You felt the anger rise in your body, making your skin heat up and twist in her grip, “No! Fuck that! Don’t you guys even think for a second, she’s gonna stick to that deal. Once you’re under her control I’m dead. Plus, you are not sacrificing yourselves for me!”

“Y/N, stop struggling.” Leo grated out, holding his hand out gently trying to calm the volatile situation.

“No!” You could see it in his eyes, those damn beautiful blue orbs actually contemplating their surrender for one single human, who had done no good in her life besides love four mutant turtles. Four mutants who had saved the world more than once from annihilation and the city itself countless times. They were not doing this, you wouldn’t let them. “No Leo, no you can’t be fucking serious?!”

“You’ll let her go if we comply?” The brothers closed in around the leader, keeping an eye on the remaining foot ninja and a closer eye on you. You could tell, all of them were on board with whatever Leonardo decided for their fate.

Karai tightened her hold on you and cooed sickeningly sweet to the four mutants about to be within her grasp. “Of course my love, I would never lie to you; you have my word of honor.”

By now Dr. Langston was regaining consciousness and stumbling to his feet. His wicked smile grew seeing the situation back in their favor and went to retrieve his lost serum. Within a few seconds he was back beside Karai uncapping a syringe. “Do we have volunteers now mistress Karai?” his snapped softly as he flicked the syringe gathering the bubbles to the top.

Karai motioned for two of the foot ninjas to come to her, “Take her outside and release the pretty birdie. I have what I want.” Her eyes never left the four turtles glaring at her watching as they took you from her arms.

“No!” You started to yank your hands trying to free yourself. “No! Don’t do this!” As you were starting to break free another foot ninja came to assist the struggling two. When they drug you towards the door you reached for the turtles, eyes pleading. “Please stop this, fight back! Leo! Please I can’t lose you again, and not all of you!”  

“We’re going to need one more dose Doctor, since Leonardo here came to for some reason. I expect you to figure out why the serum failed so it doesn’t happen again. I want them to be submissive and willing to follow my orders without question.”

“Yes mistress.”

As you were ripped from the room the last vision was of the four brothers lined up awaiting the shots that would strip them of their free will and take them from your life once and for all. The door slammed shut after you and the three men started to ramble on trying to restrain you the best they could.

“Take her to holding cell A on level 3. I have a feeling Karai isn’t finished with this one yet.” One growled grabbing your arm pinning it painfully behind your back. Suddenly you were slammed face first against the nearest wall all three of their combined weights pressing you uncomfortably hard into the cold unforgiving cement.

“She said she’d let me go you prick.” You tried snapping through your crushed mouth.

One of them pressed in kicking your feet apart making you widen your stance, “You said it yourself.” He growled against your ear. “She was lying. Do you think she was actually gonna let you go?” His hand rested on your hip before moving around the front and dipped below the fabric of Mikey’s hoodie that barely covered your nakedness. “You like to fuck that giant green freak Leonardo don’t ya? You want his big green veiny dick inside you? What is it with you and the mistress?” his hand inched closer to the apex of your thighs. “I can show you what a real man can do for you.”

“Keep your slimy hands to yourself.” Without warning your head snapped back cracking into the offending man making him holler in pain. The first man you had assaulted staggered back holding his newly broken nose tripping the other ninja while the other lurched forward trying to get you back under control. You easily dodged him spinning on the ball of your feet while the heel of your foot connected with his temple making him tumble to the floor in a heap. The man who had tripped watched his comrade fall and he jumped to his feet, his eyes swirling with anger.

“You fucking bitch!”

As he raced for you his hands reached out, but remembering your training, you quickly diverted his hands away and your fingers shot out catching him in the throat crushing his wind pipe. The man eyes blew wide and gurgled grasping at throat crumbling to the floor choking on his own blood.

Two down, one to go and you could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through your blood watching the man with a broken nose clamor to his feet. You were tired, starving and dehydrated but like hell you were going to let that bitch have your turtles. You remembered how Leo looked at you when he first came into that room, grey uncaring eyes holding no warmth for you. The thought of all four of the turtles looking at you like that made your heart ache. You couldn’t let that happen, not again. You had to win, you had to get back to them before she sunk those needles into their necks taking them away.

With blood pouring down his nose the foot ninja pulled out a tantou from his belt and lunged for you aiming the tip of his blade for your chest. You ducted and turned as the blade slid past you just missing your arm. Digging your feet down you launched yourself for him zigzagging away from his repeating attacks. Crouching down you turned just lightly and with the palm of your hand you thrust up one last time sending the broken bone of his nose directly into his brain ending his life. A soft strangled noise left him as his eyes snapped open and all movement halted. Like a sack of potatoes he toppled forward leaving your victorious for now

Your feet faltered from exhaustion and collapsed to your knees by their bodies. You gasped and felt your body shutter but took a few calming breaths, you had to keep going. They needed you. Eyeing the men you found one of them had the same build and started removing his pants and shirt and quickly dressed yourself feeling less exposed and vulnerable. Your eye caught a glimpse of the tantou blade under the man you had just killed and grabbed it for yourself, he no longer needed it.

Their weapons, you had to try and find them and they had to be close, they just had to be. Then you remembered the large mirror in the room, it had to be a two way mirror. Which meant there was a viewing room, maybe their weapons were stored in there. Karai was sadistic enough to give them back their original weapons after she had control of them. It was a long shot but worth a look. You just hoped the room was empty, you had to save your remaining strength for what would come next if you were lucky enough to find their weapons.

Finding your way back to the room that the turtles were being held in you found a door not too far from the main door. Holding your breath your hand rested on the handle and turned.

The room was thankfully void of life and you entered looking for anything to help. Scanning the surfaces within you found a few empty pop cans, a walkie talkie and a forgotten card game. In the corner was a large grey metal case padlocked, it looked important.

“Now that we have the final dose, my impressive sex gods please down on your knees or I radio my men to kill your lady friend.” The speakers were on in the room and Karai’s’ voice filtered through them. “Fuck, look at you all, just so delicious. I can’t wait!” Momentarily distracted from your task you turned to the window following their massive bodies as they lowered to the floor before the kunoichi and Dr Langston. Your eyes focused in on the four large syringes prepped and ready for them.

“Fuck.” Ripping yourself from the scene in front of you, you headed for the box with new found determination. You had only a few moments before it was too late. With the tip of the tantou you thrust it down and broke the padlock quickly opening the case. A laughing cry came from your throat looking down at their weapons, even Leonardo’s’ twin katanas lay inside the velvet lined case.

Taking them in hand you wasted no time heading out into the hallway hoping you weren’t too late.

Part Eight

Whole Story 

@blossom-skies @imthegreenfairy88 @moonlightflower21 @naturigurl @midnightrebel669 @southernblossoms

[ithinkthingsaboutstuff]

Going Rogue:The Crow’s Nest

This is a fic series, that looks at the ecosystem of Arkham asylum, How the rogues interactions with one another and how therapy is or is not administered. The partnerships, the connections, the feud’s and the all the madness that rest inside the padded walls.

Going Rogue:

part 3: The Crow’s Nest

There is a saying in Arkham. first floor for the mad, seconded floor for the crazy and the third floor for the insane. Now obviously, this is semantics, but the inclination is rather important here. The mortals with the ailment of men are kept on the ground floor as to give the illusion to any haply soul that enters that this could pass as a simple house of nightmares. The seconded floor is the maze of madness, the corridors to the crazy, that gives the doctors more than enough reason to question whatever deity or deities they may believe in. The third floor however is where all hope of humanity leaves you, not just for the patients but for anyone who comes across it.

The third floor was filled with the more ‘experimental’ therapy's or ancient practices depending on who you ask, the politicians who are the same people who still classify Arkham as a ‘mental health facility’ will tell you that this is all a part of new cutting edge techniques and therapy's that help the poor inhabitants of Akrham. If you ask the first and second floor patients, its where monsters go to lose their fangs and claws, so that they can be tamed by lesser men. The doctors at Akrham would like to pretend that this is a last resort, that its only used on the hopeless cases and that they are beyond any other kind of help, but mostly each doctor in their quiet moments, still and clam when the screams fall silent and the eyes of men and women haunt their closed eye lids, they have one creeping, sinking thought,

This is madness.

But thoughts like that must be pushed down lest you let them take you. But that’s not to say all doctors at Arkham feel that way, but then again not all the doctors in Arkham are in-front of the glass are they. Dr Jonathon Crane was once a honoured and respected doctor, or that’s what people say now anyway, about Dr Crane’s earlier years in medicine and teaching, truth is if you had asked these same people back then what they thought of him they would all give to roughly the same answer. ‘He’s a quiet but an odd man,’ ‘there’s something not quite right about him.’ ‘little obsessive isn’t he.’ ‘Who?’

Not that any of their opinions are remotely of consequence, not back then and defiantly not now. Jonathon has been sent to the third floor for treatment on and off for years now, he never talks about what happens there, no one ever dose but Jonathon shows a particulate disdain when it comes to talking about anything that involves himself. Besides, Jonathon was not like the other patients on the third floor, unlike all the others in his unfortunate position, that position being that one is at any given moment an airs breath way from being a grotesqueness shell of human facilities, the difference is,

Jonathon enjoyed it.

The third floor had the thickest cells in all of Arkham. Unlike the second floor this layout was not a maze, it is much more straight forward but what it lacked it terrainle confusion it made up for it in being a hallway of horrors hellscape. The people sent here are jacketed and chained to their wall, and that’s how stay until a doctor tells them otherwise. Spending their days desperately trying not to piss themselves as they wait for their scheduled bathroom times, mind you at this point most of the occupants that make it to the third circle of this Halloween themed death-hole are more than willing to defecate themselves like zoo animals then most folks. The staff spends the bathroom times simply cleaning the zoo cages.  

In one of these cells, thick and padded. Jonathan sat on his bed, the walls were ripped exposing the wool that had become yellow with decay. The window was no bigger than a sheet of paper, the bars on them were thin and had rusted to the point that they had holes making it look like it had a termite infestation. Jonathon was not in a straight-jacket anymore but his right leg was still chained to the back wall. He sat on his bed or buck or canvas lined poles, Jonathon found the bed comforting, he often slept in his scarecrow mask and this bed made him feel like he was wrapped in it.

He was not in the best of places when he was brought in this time, not that he ever was in his right mind when he was brought in here, but this was different. This time the bat didn’t drag him in, this time he came willingly. October was not a good month for him with all the temptation about, the autumn air so sweet in his nose but bitter on his brain. Every crunch of the leaves and the air that sent a chill down his spine and vibrated through his very soul, all of it was getting to much, he felt himself slipping or rather he felt the scarecrow creeping up the back of his mind and skulking behind his eyelids. He then went to arkham of his own accord as to not find himself wrapped in burlap for at least one Halloween night. Jonathon was at this point in his treatment allowed some writing implements, this made his focus clearer and allowed him to make his notes.        

Medical log 29: Dr. Jonathon Crane.

Time, 1700 hours.

Date, October 29th,

Year, ...who the fuck cares anymore.

The screams coming from the north wall started at about 1130 hours and ceased at approximately 1450 hours.

As to what ‘therapy' was being administered in that time is up of speculation, however I have it on good authority and judging on the volume and intensity of the screams for such a period, they are most likely being caused by electroshock mixed with a high Diazepam concentrate.

As to the effectiveness of this treatment remains to be seen, the north wall has been having these sessions by my approximation for about 19 days now, with about 5 patients, four male and one female.

four of the screams are unfamiliar to me, but the fifths I am all too familiar with, well not screams so much, as this creature does not know fear at least not in a traditional sense.  

and I would know that ass-clowns giggles anywhere.

Most likely this treatment was done on him by the direction of his new doctor. They never learn, that his mind cannot be reasoned with, and most certainly cannot be saved. But youth is often unpractised in the ways of disappointment. They will continue the trials for the next two days ending it on three weeks. As to what will come from this, I will monitor for any overall behaviour changes in the third floor, but have not other means of conducting further analysed at this present time.

As for my own treatment, I am becoming more loseit by the day, I expect to be returned to the second floor by the weeks end. My doctor has been most helpful, in making the transition this time around, I will be having a session with them in a tomorrow morning. They do have some skill unlike most of the so called doctors in the hellhouse,

however their naivety is most troubling.

What will become of them in a place like this remains to be seem, I will monitor they decline for future reference.    

Log 29, End.

Jonathon then moved to the window. The tiny thing would have been at the top of most people’s heads, but Jonathon was a tall man. His body towered over most peoples, his body was lean and skinny, like his skin was a thin cloth that covered his skeleton to keep himself together. His hands where rough and callus from all those years of swing a large heavy scythe, his face sunken with dark bags under his eyes. His glasses were slightly cracked on the left side frame, on his right temple down to his neck was a thin but jagged scar as if someone slide the knife down his face before trying to slit his throat.

Jonathon was able to pier out the window and see outside into the grounds of Arkham. Not much out there at the moment as you could imagine, mostly just over grow weeds and underbrush. But the courtyard was filled with birds or rather crows. They would squawk and cry for all to hear, it was the only thing in Arkham that was more constant then the screams. One of the crows landed on the windows ledge and squawked in Jonathon’s face. Jonathon stared at it for a moment before it squawked at him again, he then let a smile slowly creep onto his face.

‘Alright, alright, easy now, I get the picture.’

His voice was low just about a whisper, is southern accent rumbled as he tried to use a hushing tone.

‘How was your day today little birdy.’        

The crow pecked at the concrete as Jon reached into his pocket. He then pulled out his hand and held it to the window, sprinkling out crumbs of food on the ledge. The crow pecked at the food and Jon moved his fingers to slowly stroke the birds feathers.

‘You had a hard day huh, me too, but its not so bad, is it little birdy, you got big sky's and lots of places to go, but here you are, sitten with little old me, not that I don’t like when you come to visit, just seems like you’d have better places to be is all. You came he to have rest before going off to do what you need do, I get that, why you stick around me I’m not so sure though. But to each there own I suppose.’

The bird bobbed its head and Jonathon continued to pet it.

‘You such a pretty bird aren't you, and smart bird, you got anything for me?’

The bird flapped its wings and flew off, a few moments pasted and the bird returned holding something shinny in its beck.

‘Well, what’s this now?’

Jonathon took the object out of the birds beck and examined it, it was a thin metal rod it looks like it broke off an old lighting fixture,

‘A little rusted by I can file it down some. Thank you little birdy.’

Jonathon petted the bird again as it happily cried. A noise came from the hallway, footsteps came closer to his door.    

‘You should be on you way now, Little birdy.’

Jonathon then shooed the bird away it bounced on the ledge a few times before flapping its wings and flying away. Jonathon then weaved the metal rod inside one of the holes in one of the padded walls, he moves the fabric to hide the shape of the rod sticking through the wall with the padding. Jonathon then moved slowly as to not rattle his chain, he sat back on his bed and made it look like he was still taking notes.

The footsteps made it to his door and the big heavy door began to unlock and with one strong push it came open.

‘Evening.’

The voice called from the door frame.

‘I must admit I was not expecting you.’

Jonathon said as they then shut the door behind them.

‘And why’s that?’

Jonathon looked behind the one in front of him eyes darting back and forth.

‘Here all by yourself aren't you? no guards, no back up. You might get into some trouble for that.’

‘Doubt it,’

They answered smugly.

‘Fair point, so what brings you here?’

‘What else, you.’

‘You came all the way up here to see little old me, all by yourself huh, not to bright.’

‘Well you are chained to the wall so I would like to see what you could do.’

They let out a soft quiet laugh. Jonathon then shuffled jostling his leg.

‘I’m only chained to the wall at your recommendation, Doctor Quinzell,’

The young women could not hide her smile at that one. She tried not to see her patients after hours but Jonathon was one of the few she could make lenience for on that front.

‘Now Jonathon that’s for your safely as well as mine.’

‘That’s Bullshit, and you know it.’

She moved over to a chair that was on the opposite of the bed.

‘No need for that language, Jonathon.’

‘No need for a god damn chain on my leg neither.’

Doctor Quinzell then pulled out a note pad from her bag.

‘Now, How have you been Jonathon.’

He looked at her for a moment and put his own note pad to his side and looked her in the eye again.

‘Fine.’

Doctor Quinzell tapped her pen to her pad.

‘Well, you’ve been fine, the last 28 times we’ve meet up, most be an in house record.’

‘Don’t sass me child.’

‘Jonathon, if you want to leave the third floor your going to have to work with me here.’

Jonathon let out a sigh.

‘Fine...I’m feeling things again, so that’s something.’

‘What things?’

‘Sensations...my face...the air.... beating of my heart, the screams on the walls.’

‘That good, better then last time, how dose that make you feel.’

‘Cold mostly.’

‘Right, anything else.’

‘I have been sleeping better,’

‘Good, why do you think that is?’

‘The birds maybe?’

‘Ok, is there anything else you want to talk about.’

‘Like what.’

‘Like the incident that got you moved up here from the seconded floor, about three weeks ago.’

‘I’m not sorry and you can tell Jervis that I said so.’

‘So you remember what happened now.’

‘Kind of, I remember the screams and Bolton flying across the room but not much else.’

‘Well better then nothing, is there anything else you want to talk about.’

‘Not really, how about you?’

Doctor Qiunzell moved in her chair. Jonathon tapped his glasses.

‘You seem to be looking and forgive my me, rather brunt out as it were.’

Doctor Qiunzell bit her lip for a split second.

‘Now Jonathon, let us keep this about you,’

Jonathon put his hands together and leaned forward.

‘Very well, do you remember, back in the day when I was still teaching and you sat in the back row taking notes like a bat out of hell, you wrote down just about every word I said no matter how unimportant it was.’

‘Yes, ok, um why do you mention that,’

‘You see when you and I first started having are sessions, It seemed to me you kept that habit, but as of the last oh, year or so you seemed to have lost that habit. In fact you have not written a single thing down since you came in here.’

‘Things change and its just was not necessary anymore,’

‘Necessary, interesting that you use that word Doctor Quinzell, wouldn’t you say.’

‘I think, its more about understanding what information I do and don’t need.’

‘But you said necessary, a need is done out of purpose outside of our own judgement, when we feel something is or is not necessary it speaks more of our own personal biases, the fact you no longer see it to be necessary suggest you have had a shift in your priorities.’

‘And what might that be Professor Crane.’

‘Well, what do think, what have you been up to lately.’

‘Well, I have been working on more patients lately. And I think I’m losing track of then,’  

Doctor Crane then took the note pad from his side and opened it.

‘such as,’

‘I had Victor Freeze the other day and I just could not listen to anything he had to say, he talks about his wife his, feelings and all I could do is look at my watch the whole time.’

Doctor Crane took down a note.

‘I see, why do you think that is.’

‘I had my other patient to get to,’

‘Which one.’

‘Joker.’

Doctor Crane took another note and underlined it.

‘I see do you have this problem with him?’

‘No, if anything I go over time. That’s why I missed my session with Nygma, yesterday.’

‘Edwards back, huh,  good to know, Is there a reason why you are spending so much time with Joker as opposed to you other patients, Harley.’

Harley Stated to play with her hair taking it down from a bun,

‘He’s just so open with me you know.’

Doctor Crane tapped his glasses and took another note.

‘Open, open how?’

Harley played with her hair more patting it down and straightening it out the best she could but to no avail.

‘Oh I can’t tell you that, can’t break the rules’

Doctor Crane took down another note underlining it twice.

‘Hmm,very well, so you do have him on a new treatment though, don’t you Harley.’

Harley looked surprised.

‘How do you know that.’

‘I may not always be in the best of mind, but my ears work perfectly. I can hear the laugh through the walls’

‘Oh, I see that makes senses. silly me, oops ’

‘That’s ok, I there any improvement in any of them so far.’

‘No not really Professor Crane, and honestly I don’t think we should continue...but.’

‘But what? Harley.’

She took a deep breath and leaned back with a wishful sigh.

‘He has such a beautiful laugh and its the only thing that makes him smile right now.’

Doctor Crane kept quietly taking notes.

‘I see, well Harley...’

Footsteps where making there way down the hall.

‘I think it be best if you were on you way now,’

Harley straighten like she had just been sobered up.

‘Yes, your right Professor Crane.’

She then started to tie her hair up again. The footsteps came closer and Harley had grabbed all her things and made her way to the door, she waited a moment as she heard the footsteps walk past the door. She then pulled the door open and she opened it wide enough for herself to push herself out, as she went into the hallway she was meet with a man, she yelped.

‘Oh, Mr Bolton, you scared me.’

‘Sorry about that Doc, what are you doing up here this late?’

‘Just catching up with my patients, goodnight Mr Bolton.’

Harley tried to fix her hair as she went down the hall, rushing to the elevator. Bolton then waited for her to be out of sight before opening the heavy door again. Jonathon was still sitting on his bed making notes and Bolton slammed the door shut behind him.

‘I am very popular today aren’t I.’

Jonathon said without lifting his head.

‘What did you do to that Doctor Crane.’

Jonathon snapped his book shut and looked to Bolton eyes over his glasses.

‘I assure you it is strictly professional.’

‘Is that right. Well then I assure you from professional to another, This is going to hurt.’        

‘What are you going on about Bolton.’

Bolton looked at the chain that connected Jonathon to the wall.

‘No where to run Crane,’

‘No where to hide neither Bolton.’

Bolton moved closer to him slowly as he prepared his fists.

‘Let’s see if I can get the scarecrow to be afraid,’

‘How much time you got.’

‘All night.’

Jonathon looked at Bolton unfazed by his actions knowing what is to come.The Crows outside squawked as they flew in circles outside, one of which landed on the window.

‘I guess I can pencil you in.’

‘I’m going to make sure you never get the chance to throw me around again, your staying in lockup.’

‘Haroo,Hraa.’

The crows cried the courtyard was empty, the screams where loud but tonight the crows where louder.

[themockingcrows]

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch. 4: Treasures New and Old

This chapter is SFW This chapter available on my AO3!

From weaponized Furbies to old school prewar technology, Bro is finding his hands in many pies. Hal wishes he'd leave the pies the fuck alone for the most part.

     The small wheels of the Furby were sturdy enough to handle the terrain inside of the building with ease, so long as the bigger debris was avoided. These weren’t monster truck wheels, after all. Every so often a ping would be sent back to Bro’s location in the stairwell where he was secured out of sight, ready to be back up once Hal was done exploring and mapping out the place. He’d already covered significant ground, only needing assistance when it came to changing floors, and was holding his own against some of the mutated pests that had taken up residence in the various empty rooms.

     The modified laser was perfect for quick shots, and most of the critters seemed to be expecting humans or at least food they could smell. The small mechanical device wasn’t very appetizing looking, more of a curiosity. Bro was pretty sure he’d never seen giant insects that close up before unless they were dead, the radiation having done a number on their dna sequences since the war. Their protruding eyes were kind of fascinating to see up close, though Bro was content to watch from his distance rather than get hands on.

     I don’t appreciate this, you know

     “Don’t appreciate what,” Bro said into his end of the walkie talkie. “Freedom to move around? Weapons to protect yourself with?”

     I don’t appreciate being stuffed into this toy and you damn well know it.

     “Cry me a river and check the next hallway, I’ve got a feelin’ there’ll be somethin’ good there.” 

     There were other toys there. You could have put me in something useful. Something sturdier. Something-

     “What the fuck is that thing?”  said a voice from further down the hallway Hal was trundling down. A human who’d been living rough for some time, with attitudes that were even rougher judging from the wild clothing they wore, came into view. A man, when he got close enough to be seen clearly. A raider, if some of the markings on his clothes were authentic and not just slapped on for fun. Great, just what he fucking needed, a pack of wild men to deal with.

     “Find something to eat?” called another voice. Bro quietly grunted and got up out of his hiding spot to go get ready. Humans could be destructive with shit they didn’t understand, and the last thing he wanted to do was lose Hal. He’d become pretty attached to the AI by now, and losing him wasn’t an option anymore, not with the end goal being so interesting to him.

     “Nah, just found… something. I don’t know what this thing is,” the first man admitted, reaching down to snatch the Furby off the ground after a few attempts, the small wheels motoring this way and that to avoid being picked up. “Some kinda toy?”

     “What, find a new teddy bear?” joked the other voice out of view.

     “Nah. This thing’s cute though,” he chuckled, touching the spinning wheels and the moving beak before setting it back down on the ground. The Furby failed to move. “Hey, c’mon over and get a look while it’s still.”

     The second man finally appeared, itching his back with the baseball bat he held, hair tied back into a messy bun. He popped a squat in front of the still Furby and smirked.

     “Aw. Lookit the lil shit, it’s cu-”

     Zap.

     The laser was probably overkill as far as power went, but Bro was proud of the addition and how stable it proved to be. The fact that Hal was a killer shot was just a bonus, landing the guy right between the eyes before the guy could get the word out all the way, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. The first man panicked and jumped back as the Furby zoomed back to life and backed up several paces.

     Bitch.

     Bro was able to take a shot towards the man’s shoulder with his sword  before turning and cracking him upside the head with a fist, sending him down in a bleeding pile. Nothing like a small fluffy creature buzzing on the floor after firing a deadly laser to act as a distraction for a 6’6 man with a sword creeping up on ya. It probably would have been more prudent to use long range… but sometimes he just needed to have an excuse to clean his sword off rom residue that wasn’t radroach or abomination. 

     “Y’know, you could’ve just singed him and he might’ve run. I was on my way,” Bro said, nudging the dead fellow with a toe of his boot. “I don’t think he even has anything interestin’ on him.”

     I hold no apologies for being called ‘cute’. 

     “You’re right, you’re adorable. How dare they.”

     Laser has entered the cooldown period. You’re lucky.

     “Your own fault for shootin’ full force, if you want to roast me you’re gonna need to learn your limits first Hal,” Bro said as he abandoned the toy and walked ahead to peek in different doors. Big fat load of nothing… till he found the place the second man had come from. Paydirt. A temporary camp site, complete with food and water. Packaged food, no less, prewar and sturdy enough to last ages thanks to its healthy doses of preservatives. Giving a pleased whoop of joy, Bro took off his bag and took to stuffing what he could carry into it, taking his time to look around for other important looking things. Keys, cards, electronic tidbits that might be useful, ammunition. Bandages. Christ could he use some bandages, or disinfectant, he’d forgotten to stock up on extras at the last place they’d stayed and it was going to bite him in the ass, he could just feel it.

     While he found some disinfectant in the form of a high octane liquor, the bandages were at least sanitary looking and standard. Eh. A drink and something to clean with. It’d work. Otherwise interestingly he found a notebook, one with most of the pages in it no less. Perfect. He’d be able to write Dave again tonight and send the letter off when they hit a trader or a town next. Right on schedule.

     ...Or maybe too much of a schedule. Kid was probably being inundated with letters and not sure what to do with them since he couldn’t write back. If he even wanted to.

     Bro paused for a moment before grabbing the notebook and stuffing it into his bag after all. If Dave read his letters or threw them in the trash, at least he was reaching out on his end and showing he was willing to talk. It was the best he could do, he supposed. Be there and be ready for replies if they came.

     You’re going to get fat if you eat all that processed garbage. Why did junk food survive but next to none of the decent food survive.

     “Preservatives and chemicals for flavorin’,” Bro said, snapping out of his thoughts. The one man was only knocked out, after all, not dead. He’d be coming to eventually, best to be long gone by then. “When there’s more chemicals than food in the package, the food’ll last through goddamn anything.”

     I’m starting to think that if you encountered a fresh vegetable you would collapse inwardly like a dying star.

     “Everything I’ve ever come into contact with had some traces of radiation in it, it’s part of the post-apocalyptic lifestyle, Hal. It’s just a waitin’ game to see how much will make you sick and how much just adds a zesty aftertaste.”

     ...I’m unable to tell if you’re joking or not and that is concerning for my future mobility. I can hear the atherosclerosis from here.

     “All you can hear are the dulcet tones of my voice, admit it,” Bro said, giving one last look around the room before reaching for Hal. The laser fired a small zap, stinging his hand and making him yank it back, watching the toy zip around in circles teasingly. “Ah c’mon, don’t be a lil shit. I was gonna put you back in the glasses. Don’t you like the glasses more than the Furby?”

     I like many things more than the Furby.

     “C’mere then,” Bro said, reaching down to snatch the toy up by its fuzzy body, the weight more substantial now than it had been fresh out of the box. The skin was stretched taut over all kinds of goodies now, and he was careful as he plugged the shades into the side of the Furby by way of the metallic port, waiting and watching as the small loading symbols flickered in front of his eyes. Once again, Hal’s eyes opened in front of his own, pupils dilating briefly in recognition before they flickered away and he was left with the usual interface once more.

     “There. Better?”

     If you really loved me you’d have built something better with all those spare parts.

     “I don’t love you. I tolerate you.”

     Frankenfurby is a token of your affections as surely as your letters to your spawn are.

     “Those’re different,” Bro murmured, tucking the doll away carefully in his bag and securing it closed. He wasn’t sure if he could hear groaning or was just paranoid, but better to leave than to find out. Slowly, he backtracked down the hallway past the felled men before speeding up to the stairwell, hurrying down and out of the building while he could. All in all a successful scavenge, his luck was really holding out now that he had his new toy.

     Friend.

     … Yeah, he’d call Hal a friend now. Maybe prematurely, but it was hard not to bond with someone whose sense of humor was so similar to his own, bot or not.

     Are we still on target to approach where my body was last being kept?

     “Should be. I’m only swervin’ once in a while to find places to stay, or to get goodies after all. There’s a few places I’d love to hit between here and there, though it’d be too rough goin’ for the furb to be active.”

     What are these locations you are wanting to go to and why.

     “Well, one of’ems a vault. I know if there’s people in it they’d be good for tradin’ with and prolly have somewhere to stay or know where it’d be good to stay in the region. If it’s a decrepit one it’d prolly been picked clean… if you give up after the first few areas,” Bro smirked. “Dig deep and pick enough locks, know how to sweet talk the electronics, and usually you’ll find a treasure trove of some kind. Or at least so I’d assume, given that I’ve not exactly crawled my way through enough to formulate a mean average on accessibility to the damn things.”

     Hal whirred briefly as if thinking before speaking up. What kinds of things would you be hoping to obtain from there that you cannot obtain from elsewhere that we’ve been going into? These ‘goodies’ you mention.

     “More prewar things mostly,” Bro said as he sized up a slope and skidded down it with his feet turned. He had to sit down once, scuffing his ass, but he made it to the bottom without falling at all. A quick dust, and he was back en route. “Food, ammunition. Weapons. Medical supplies is a big important one. Old prewar tech is like findin’ the needle in the haystack, but once you find it it’s sweet.”

     Old prewar tech like what, more odds and ends?

     “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s more like findin’ entire bots untouched in their charging bays,” he explained, eyeing the surroundings cautiously. He was more exposed out here, and he didn’t exactly enjoy it, but sometimes it was a choice between being exposed and being boxed into an area chock full of super mutants.

     No thank you, he’d take his chances out here thanks. Could hear and see shit coming that way while he was awake.

     Would these untouched bots have data cables perchance.

     “I’m not uploadin’ you into a Gutsy, Hal.”

     I’D BE SO MUCH MORE USEFUL, YOU’D BE MISSING OUT!

     “I like you bein’ portable. I also like you not bein’ capable of friendly fire. No, I didn’t forget that laser earlier, you fuck, my hand still stings from it.”

     Okay, what if instead of uploading me into a Gutsy you uploaded me into the mainframe computer? reasoned Hal. I could manually override everything in place since lockdown, and likely would be able to communicate with you through various data ports.

     Bro’s steps slowed a bit. That, he liked the sound of. Just need to make it to the overseers office and make sure it was clear before uploading him… or maybe even uploading him from another unit, if it was still functional.

     “If you ever got stuck in there, would you be patient and wait for me to figure out how to get you out?”

     And give up the God like control I would have over the giant rodent population? You tease me.

     “I’ll take that as a yes, and an Okay for where to head to next,” he hummed.

     If he could make it out of there with enough swag, he could sell the extra and have plenty to spend till the end of the mission. ...Was that what this was now? A mission? A mission to get to an AI’s body that may or may not even exist...for what. There was no guarantee Hal would even want to stay with him at the end of all of this. Odds are he’d get freedom and go running with it like Dave had, leaving Bro on his lonesome again.

     The thought put an unpleasant knot in his stomach. No, Daave hadn’t run away, he’d grown up and left the nest like everyone else did eventually. And even if Hal DID leave him behind, so what? He’d have had a bit of an adventure, restocked his cash supply, probably gotten more things to keep himself busy with. There’d be more stories to tell over a few shots of booze, more things to write to Dave about, and more things to remember when he was old.

     Nothing happened without a reason. This wasn’t a fruitless venture, he’d already had more fun than he assumed was possible.

     Are you okay? Hal asked suddenly.

     “Huh? Yeah, why.”

     Your eyes looked pensive and you seemed miles away. No reaction to the mole rat coming in from the left.

     Cussing, Bro turned and whipped his sword out, raising it up to-

     “...Hal. Where’s the mole rat,” Bro asked, scanning around in circles with his weapon raised.

     It’s fictional, but you proved my point about being distracted quite well.

     “Hal. I’m gonna bust you into twenty pieces if you keep that shit up.”

     Do you wish to talk about it? The things that were catching your thoughts.

     “You my therapist now?”

     Curiosity has captured me and you’re the nearest target.

     “I was thinkin’ about the nearest vault and what we might find in it,” he lied. Hal’s loading screen flashed in front of his eyes again before the outdated map appeared like a hazy display over reality.

     If we continue at the current ambling pace it would take till tomorrow evening to reach the nearest vault, given that nothing between here and there has become too irradiated to support living creatures or has become irradiated enough to support terrible living creatures.

     “One way to find out, huh.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     The vault was an opened one, leaving the usual rundown of various critters to deal with near the entrance. Pests. This was his pearl to unearth, not theirs to eat. They could have the leftovers, maybe he’d crumble up a bag of chips and leave’em nearby as a peace offering or something, not that the dumb animals would understand or appreciate it at all. As it was he took potshots at some of them and just stomped on the insects before they could be a problem, wiping goo off his shoes on the metal rack steps inside the big steel door. It smelled damp somewhere, made sense. The rest of the air just smelled old and musty, rusted. Worn down. There was still electricity though, these bastards really were meant to last.

     Bro made his way through a few doors before finding his way to some signs, following them to the main recreation area. Graffiti tagged the walls with various people he’d never heard of and probably never would know of, and most of the things were picked over or left broken open to rot. Raiders. Messy fuckers, lived somewhere for a while then moved on when the supplies ran out.

     Just meant there was probably gold in there further than the numbskulls could reach, and he just had to be patient.

     Paydirt came when Bro finally found a computer monitor that was not only unbroken but accessible to the main system, taking a seat to toy with the keys for a while. He spent some time reading old logs, scouring it for data that might be useful, keys being left somewhere or security being heightened in different areas. Not much to work from, though. He pursed his lips and made a soft tutting sound before shaking his head and standing.

     Aren’t you going to upload me?

     “Not here, no. If I find a security terminal maybe, or if I can get to the Overseer’s office, that’d be the best shit. You’d have access to a wider percentage of the place, if not all of it once the override’s overridden.”

     You underestimate me, I could probably reach there before you.

     “You could also get firewalled by some shit you’re encoded with because you’re still an AI tryin’ to hack somethin’. ‘Sides, I’d rather have the company for now,” Bro chuckled.

     At least the scenery is interesting. I believe the last three dicks on the walls were larger than the first three dicks on the walls.

     “We’re in the tainted parts,” Bro said, hopping a barrier to reach the first locked door they’d encountered. Smirking, he pulled off his bag and got a few small tools out, sparking the data screen back to life after a few minutes of jimmying the wires. He made quick work of it, letting the door open before allowing the charge to drop, rendering the door permanently open.

     “Child’s play,” he said softly, putting the tools into his pocket in case they were needed sooner rather than later before letting himself walk through and down the much better conditioned hallway. There was no graffiti here, but the smell of mildew was still strong, meaning there must have been a leak somewhere. Internal leak was one thing, an external meant radiation. “Hal, keep a geiger check goin’, warn me if we’re gettin’ anywhere too hairy.”

     There are elevated levels, but they’re within the safe amount so long as you don’t do something foolish like sleep back here.

     “Figured. Don’t worry, I don’t feel very tired right now.”

     If anything he felt alert, awake, ready to fight. He almost wished something would lurch around the dimly lit corner thirsting for his blood so he could decapitate it. Stress presenting itself in violent ways was just a part of life here, and fuck could he use some stress relief before the night was up. Getting here had been more stressful than he assumed, involving some stealthing past massive horned abominations with razor sharp claws and dealing with some leatherbound fuckheads who just HAD to decide he was worth heckling.

     Another bit of wandering, most rooms not holding anything useful or worth lugging out of there, Bro finally hit jackpot. The overseers office wasn’t locked down, it seemed. The bloodstain on the wall gave a few clues to why that may be, but the lack of a skeleton to follow up with made the guessing game all the more interesting in his opinion. Hopping into the creaking leather seat, he rustled for the connection cable from his bag.

     “Ready, Hal? I want you to light the place up, unlock shit, and see if you can access the sound system,” Bro rattled off, instructing the AI as if those weren’t the things he was already planning to do.

     I’ll send feedback to these monitors as well, no doubt there are some cameras still working, Hal promised, eagerly awaiting the moment of plugin.

     Briefly, Bro was concerned he’d caused a power outage. The room went pitch black, as did the rest of the vault that he could see from the rounded window and doorway, save for the monitor in front of him.

     “Hal? Fuck.”

     The screen flashed green, before taking on a red hue as pixels fell by the wayside. A small loading screen image appeared, same as in the glasses.

     Loading. Loading. Loading, came a voice from the sound system around him, soothing and methodical. In the distance, however, Bro heard unworldly screeching and hisses, and his blood ran cold.

     “Lights back on any time, Hal.”

     Loading. Loading. Loading.

     More hisses and screams, this time closer, reacting every time they heard a voice on the speakers.

     “Haaaaaal. Any time now would be pretty fuckin’ sweet,” Bro hissed, slowly sinking down below the desk and pulling his weapon out, hiding but prepared as he waited.

     The lights flickered back on, too bright and intense enough to sting his eyes before lowering back down to the softer indoor degree. Bro scooted out and lifted up enough to look at the screen, smirking when he saw a small, digitized version of a human with red eyes and white hair doing a bouncing dance in the corner. This wasn’t a simple data upload, it was practically a hijacking.

     “...Hal? Can you hear me?”

     No response. Frowning, Bro looked up to the corners to find the cameras, repeating himself.

     “Can you hear me?”

     No. But I can see you. I can see a lot of things.

     “Show me,” he mouthed towards the cameras before looking to the displays once more. It was like he’d feared: those hisses weren’t just in his head. The place was lousy with feral ghouls, and fuck if that was one thing he hated dealing with. Normal ghouls? Chill folks. Feral ghouls were a goddamn mess that didn’t stop hitting and they were smart enough to run while aiming for the soft bits. At least they weren’t infectious like in those old books he’d seen. Prewar people had been obsessed with the idea of the living dead. Well, congratulations fuckers: you were the reason they existed now.

     He assumed his sword could get through most of them, the rest he’d need to aim for the head to take down. Biting his lip, Bro stood up and took the chair once more, typing to get a more detailed message across to Hal in case the simplistic lip reading couldn’t carry over. 

     Can you unlock the doors?

     Done and done.

     Is there a path towards the medical bay or security room that isn’t littered with ghouls?

     Negative. Your new friends are everywhere and they don’t seem very happy to hear me.

     “God damn it, of course, the two places I wanna hit and they’re crawlin’,” Bro hissed in disgust. 

     Do you have a clear view of these areas?

     Absolutely, Hal said before the camera views changed, showing different hallways and signs, then finally the interior of the medical bay and the security office. Each had its own ghouls, but even from there Bro could see enough treasure that his mouth watered. Treasure in ammo boxes and containers that weren’t rusted and permeated with water. Treasure in medical cabinets, maybe even some chems. Bro was absolutely not above using chems if the need arose in a fight or the interest was high enough in a calm moment, but the thought of having prewar chems that not only were in good condition but plentiful?

     “Lock and load, Hal.”

[sweetcatmintea]

I found an Angel

Just for funzies, here’s a disturbing little drabble that’s been floating around in my head lately. 

Trigger warnings: descriptions of injury, implied abduction, it’s kinda messed up Words: 943

---

I found an angel lost and hopeless in one of the countless forgotten corners of the city. It trembled so. I wondered if the rain would not dissolve it to nothing. The poor little thing could save not even itself. I took it home, promises, promises, sweet on my tongue. It put its hand in mine, so tiny, so frail, its bones filigree porcelain. Heavy wings, a burden too big for its body, they caught the wind with every step, pulling it back, back, away from me. I gave it a meal and sent it to bed. I was gentle, so very gentle, when I clipped those wings, too big for its frame. As an angel, it was useless. It did not need them. They were wasted on it. I could do so much more. I would be so much more. One long night, two doses of hard liquor, three mirrors in the bathroom, four feet of thread, and a needle sharp as grief. Stitch by stitch, I crowned myself in its feathers.

A red morning came, an ache in my skin. They were heavier than I expected. It felt good. I was finally pure. I would do more than the little angel ever could. Bandages wrapped around and around, breathing was sacrificed to dam the scarlet from the feathers. They twitched with my giddy heart. I paraded those wings, so proud, so good. Day after day, I made the world better. People began to see me for the person I was. They loved me. They loved that I was good, that the wings were not wasted.

The poor little wretch, the angel without its wings, I kept it safe in my house. Safe in its new home. I left a music box playing for it. Quiet pauses punctuated by raspy sobs, rattling through the walls. I considered wringing its neck. Putting it out of its misery. Instead, I took pity on it. It wanted to leave, I could tell, but there was no where in the world for a useless angel. I was gentle and I was kind. I let it stay with me.

It began with an itch, then a smell, then a burn. Stitches seeped rot, weeping pungent tears into the feathers, into my shirt. My head swam with fever, limbs trembling at every exertion. I lost control of those wings, control but not feeling. They clung to my back, pulling at the decaying skin, hanging limp and heavy. Useless again. The love dripped away with the sweat. No matter what I did, they avoided me. I made the world better but they were selfish.

I did what I could to save those wings. I pulled them, stitch by stitch from my back once more. Layers of skin and fat and rot slopped down my spine. Raw muscles quivered as the air teased anew. Knife slippery with oil, hunks of ruined meat fell from those wings. I gave them back to the wretched little angel. Though I was kind and I was gentle, there was not much left to return. Fever burnt my insides. I knelt beside the sorry creature. I thought I might die. My heart quivered, bile burning the back of my tongue. The angel moaned, skin soaked in blood. I felt sorry for my hopeless angel. I thought it would die.

--

Echo jolted, consciousness reaching her body before her mind. Her arms were heavy, shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Though it didn’t want to listen, she forced herself to sit up on the bed. Her wings trembled, unable to fold against her skin. Lightning flashed a blinding white into the room. Her scars stung faintly. She wondered if it was the low rumble of thunder overhead that woke her up, any memories of dreams already gone. Her heart raced and she was seized by an overwhelming urge to cry. These nights made no sense.

For a moment, she sat on her bed listening to the rain pelt the window as she tried to calm her shuddering lungs. When she could convince herself that she had enough control over her limbs that she wouldn’t fall the instant she stood, Echo hopped up, ambling the short distance to her brother. He was sleeping soundly. Reluctance niggled at her, she didn’t really want to wake him. A loud crack of thunder was all she needed. One hand clutching her shirt, she tugged his sleeve with the other. His eyes snapped open in an instant, fur bristling. She tugs his sleeve again. Ears lowered and eyes misting, she was a pathetic sight. She just wanted a hug.

Without an immediate threat in sight, Storm relaxed again.

“What’s wrong?” He licked his lips, mouth dry from sleep. “Did the storm wake you?”

Echo didn’t know. She nodded anyway.

Storm made a sympathetic noise, broken with a yawn. His ears tilted with concern as he thumbed the tear trail of her cheeks. Had she been crying?

“Alright. Do you want to sleep with me?”

He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, pulling the thin sheet up for her to crawl into bed with him. Echo tucked herself into his chest, her scarred back pressing into his scarred front. He wasn’t very warm and her wings were squished between them, but she didn’t mind. It felt safe. He pet her head while she settled, whispering quiet comforting words until the shakes went away. Finally ready to sleep again, he looped his arm over her, pulling her close. As her breathing evened into a gentle rhythm, he kissed the top of her head goodnight and closed his eyes. He would keep her safe.

-----

Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

To be honest, I’m much happier with the first part than the second. It didn’t start out as a dream but I thought it hit a lot of Echo’s issues so it kinda fit. It’s probably a good thing she thinks she doesn’t dream. 

[akiwisfics]

In the Middle Chapter 6

Notes: Cross-posted from AO3. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes.

Description:  The war's over, but the mess is still left behind. Kasumi finds herself among the wreckage with unexpected companions and questions that seem almost impossible to answer for. Life keeps moving forward, however, and the surprises it leaves behind aren't always pleasant ones.

Pairings: KasumixSha’ira

--

Her chest felt tight. Why was it so quiet?

She didn't think she was dead. Probably not anyway. Kasumi had taken far worse hits in her life, ones that promised much more damage and much more deathy. Whatever light she could see through her eyelids was low and out of the way, the corner of the tent she thought. Two quiet voices above her, and though she couldn't make out what they were saying, they were morose and depressing-- deep. Whatever she missed in the mean time hadn't ended well.

The blanket was snugged tightly against her body. Mm. Warm. Pleasant too, like a home comfort when home was so very far away as a concept. She was used to that. Packed light, but brought the things that reminded her what she had to leave behind. Usually small things, like old novels that Keiji had surprised her with over the years they had been together. Others were... simpler. Blankets were always good for that, especially on the harder nights when the ship was far too cold and empty. A blanket brought more of something familiar, and perhaps make a portrait of a place that wasn't home but more, paradise. A vacation that's farther away from the worst.

But eventually, eventually reality would call back to her. Kasumi flickered her eyes open to see the canopy of a tent that wasn't hers, but similar. White, low-ceiling. There was a candle burning in the corner she thought, lavender and a mix of chamomile. Calming agents. Oh. So this was Sha'ira's. Suddenly, the paradise felt more like an intrusion.

She twisted her head and found Sha'ira kneeling next to her, in a heavy conversation with the red salarian. There were tools behind them, doctor ones, and a few medi gel applicators. Her head ached, and even the low light seemed too much. So maybe she had been hit harder than she thought. Her hearing seemed to be coming back at least.

“Ms. Maeda?” Sha'ira's voice was soft, remorseful. The harsh shadows that danced along her face made it seem all that more morose, but relieved. She could see that too with the way her eyes softened, and that. That made it easier to smile in return.

“Proximity mines are a favorite in the Terminus Systems.”

She breathed a small laugh. “You'd know about that, wouldn't you?”

The red salarian sighed, and turned to the doctor's bag. “Then I'm sure you've heard the whole 'another angle and that would've killed you' lecture, so I'm gonna save it. I kinda figured that anyway. Any discomfort in your chest?”

“A lot.”

“Cracked ribs. Ache in your head?”

“Concussion?”

“Yep. Though to be sure have you had any memory loss, disorientation, mild confusion?”

“Just over how long you've been a medic.”

“Long enough. It's mild then.” He snapped the bag closed, and seemed satisfied with the diagnosis. “I'll leave you two then. I'm sure Sha'ira can give you the news.” Then he eyed her critically, a scowl clear on his face. “You're off your feet for today. That medigel needs to work its magic and all that.” Not surprising, but she kinda missed that awkward, scarred smile on his face.

“Okay. But why am I in Sha'ira's tent?”

He ignored her, much to her annoyance, and instead slipped out of the tent flap. The silence was uncomfortable to say the least, and for once, neither of them seemed to be up for breaking it. Sha'ira's frown and furrowed brow easily killed any voice that would've risen in her throat, and the way she focused on the slow rise and fall of her chest told her there was plenty on her mind to keep herself occupied. She wanted to ask a hundred different things that could come to her, but looking at her, it was almost like she didn't have the right.

Still, she had to break it. “So... why am I in your tent?”

“I was closer than yours,” her mouth twitched, “We wanted to get you... situated as soon as possible.”

“Was it bad?”

“... No. The dirt made it seem worse. We couldn't really tell until...” She took a deep breath before finally looking her in the eye. There was an unsteady gaze. “I apologize. Are you okay?”

“You didn't get hurt any, right?”

“Thanks to you, yes.” She blinked once slowly, sucking in a deep breath. This had shaken her, and how she tried to loosen her shoulders out. How long had she been unconscious? Enough time to be dragged back to camp, and whatever medical practice needed to be done and not feel it. It had been more like a pleasant afternoon nap with a side dose of a headache and a little bit of heartburn-- not unlike post-food coma after a particularly noisy holiday dinner. She'd only ever been to three in her lifetime, once as an uninvited guest to Kiera's.

Her bedroom window had been left a crack, and Kasumi had simply slipped in, and greeted the downstairs family as if she was an expected guest. Her mother, an old willowy matriarch with just as much fear as there was wisdom with those that had followed her, had roared at the mere sight of her and rose from her seat as a tall, brightly gleamed with biotics, tower. That matriarch never cared for her too much. She was much like Kiera, a creature of selfish control and careful planning, but couldn't see her pats the initial threat she had posed.

Everyone was a little fragile once or twice to people you didn't want to be. It didn't matter if it was her mother, Shepard, herself, or even Sha'ira. Especially Sha'ira now.

“You ever had this happen to you before?” Kasumi chanced to ask with the fact that neither of them seemed ready to move-- Kasumi unable to move. It was worth asking, to know, and perhaps give what little comfort she knew to give.

“Once.” The consort glanced away, fingers curling against the fabric of her dress. It still was grimed with dirt and what seemed to be a little metal shrapnel stuck in between. “The Geth had not been known to discriminate in their targets. Everyone lost something in that first takeover.”

“I saw what happened to your office.” It was an ugly, twisted mess. Entrance caved in, bullet holes all over the walls. Furniture turned over, and again that scent of gun smoke and metal-- blood. She could've lost more, but still. “Were you there?”

Sha'ira sighed. “At the start, yes. Nelyna and I...” And then just as suddenly, she shook her head. The tension vanished as if it never existed, and Sha'ira's face remained just as placid as ever. “It's well passed in any case, and I have made steps to... adjust.” It didn't surprise her that Sha'ira knew how to guard herself as well. To keep things tightly locked and key. Still, very disappointing. It'd be nice to pry open and see what was inside, not just have her under scrutiny from watchful, careful eyes.

“Lost an aunt from it too.”

At the mention, Sha'ira immediately perked up. “So you do have a family.”

“Little, but I did.”

“I imagine not quite so eccentric.”

She didn't know. Not as much as she would've liked. From what she remembered, her mother was a quiet figure, gently chiding, and working hard. Did a lot of... pipe work for the colony, she thought. There were wonderful, tempting aromas of spices and something sweet whenever she would walk into her kitchen, and her burly bear of a father would be standing behind the counter, occasionally with a cigar in his mouth. Shipments from the Alliance. Always took one out on a good day. Her sister... she was an elusive image. One replaced by blood and fragments of bone. Long hair. She had longer hair.

“They were pretty normal, I guess.”

Sha'ira studied her for a moment, and she could feel how naturally her gaze traveled to that well-worn scar at the back of her skull. “That is surprising, considering where you ended up.”

“Normal families don't birth consorts either, Sha'ira.”

A long, thin smile formed, then a delicate hand against her forehead as she brushed the bandages just barely back to see the healing wound. “... I'm glad you're okay, Ms. Goto. It would have been a shame to see our arrangement end so early.”

“Arrangement sounds so formal. You have other friends, right?”

“Of course. Some of my clients can be worth knowing outside of work.”

“That sounds really boring.”

Sha'ira laughed before applying the bandage back against her temple, gentle as she did so. “Not everyone can lead a life so exciting, Ms. Goto. Though, I get the feeling I may last longer than you will.”

She hmphed. “Or have already.” Kasumi would do the math every now and then, when the days seemed to grow and twisted into a crazy, niggling wounds and betrayals. It was hard to see the old wounds and the new ones eventually, though she never looked too hard at her skin. The lessons stuck well enough on their own, and the catsuit, it was already like her skin. Stuck to her close enough to be. But now? Now she can look at her hands freely. See all the little lines that sunk into her palm. Little callouses too that built up closer to her fingers. The skin was smoother than she expected though.

“Does it bother you?”

She didn't know. It was more like a pale hand that followed her, every now and then taking something else away, just to remind her that it was there. And eventually her luck would and her time would start wilting, and she would feel that cold brush against the back of her neck. Days where she begged it. Days where she questioned it.

A shudder and Keiji's old touch seemed so far away from her. Death always led to him, one way or another. And another part, gone. But it felt... necessary to keep him in mind, that little note in her head that no matter who it was or what was happening, no one was invincible. Sha'ira wasn't either.

…. What was she doing?

“Kasumi?”

She looked back, saw the concern glazing over her clear blue eyes. It wasn't unattractive to think of her the same as she did Keiji and Shepard. To think nothing could take them, especially if she was there to do something about it. But Kasumi had looked away long enough, and both of them were rotting somewhere. Shepard in the city, Keiji back in Bekenstein. Sha'ira would have something more dignified with the luck of not being a soldier like so many others that she knew. Maybe quiet. Maybe a disgruntled customer getting too emotional.

That sudden intruding thought told her to run. Run. But she swallowed it down this time and refused to look away. “My death is inevitable,” she said, ignored the bile sticking to her throat, “I already made peace with that.”

“And others?”

That was a question she knew was coming. The silence gave her away, and Kasumi knew the flow of the game by now. It was simply a matter of moving the game forward, another little piece and twist. “Tell me something,” she ducked the question, but no, she wouldn't give Sha'ira the benefit of looking away. “For folks that live for so long, you see plenty of death yourself, don't you?” She didn't respond, but Kasumi barely gave her the time to. Just kept pushing. Push, pry. Who was that woman underneath? “Does it ever get easier every time? You have centuries to recover, but when it matters, doesn't it always...”

“Yes.” She broke the gaze, and saw the small switch inside of her, reverting to the scared, small thoughts that crept inside her when Kasumi had first woken up. “... Death is an awful, wonderful fact. It will come before you are ready, and it will take what you love. But that, in itself, creates some of the most wonderful memories I have had the pleasure to hold.”

And she was locked out. Still though, she felt amazed by the response, unexpected, pleasurable. She could want more of that. “Why?”

Sha'ira chuckled, even if there was still a fragility in the air. “Because when we have learned, we take each moment, each greeting with someone for what it is, and we cherish it. How many times did it take you to watch someone die to realize that?”

She was just a small girl quivering away from beady eyes looking for them. “Once.”

“Once.” And those blue eyes were like fire. “Nelyna took the shot for me. Kept them away from me, and... she died.” Oh. … Oh. The archives she dug through had never mentioned that. Whatever had happened that morning, Sha'ira had kept it tightly locked. “I will have to live with the last memory of her... her dying. And her blood. That is something that will never be removed. In those instances, recovery may seem simply a relative concept.”

May? The possibility was still there, but in the depths of it all, she couldn't stop how much it hurt.

“But we must, Kasumi. Not just for their memory, but for our sakes as well.” It was gentle, but noticeable with the way she shook as she brushed Kasumi's hair back. “I have to ask this... I am sorry.” No. She knew where this was going. “I saw what was in your bag the other night. Just enough to know what it was.”

“Sha'ira. No.” Not when she couldn't run. Not when she couldn't hide. “I'm the one whose supposed to cheat.”

The smile was more of a taut grimace. “I only do when I feel it is important.”

“It's not.”

She laughed. “They may have worked on everyone else, Kasumi. I am positive that Shepard, and you for at least a time, have disagreed.”

Kasumi still did. It was just easier to dismiss its presence when others noticed. Keiji was with her in a way that he promised, though never really, fully intended. It was a gift that comforted her when she needed it, and drove the knife inside when she wished for the reminder. That was not a place for anyone else to bring up, not without her making the first move. “Perhaps another day then, my friend. He's...”

That look. Sympathetic, but still, sad. “I understand.” She gave a moment's pause before standing up and brushing off the edges of her dress. It still had dirt, grime, and blood. She hadn't changed yet? “If you would, offer some condolences to Sura. … She might appreciate whatever advice you could give.”

“Uh--”

“Her wife is who we found. Thyra.”

Oh. Oh. “Sha'ira---”

She was gone before she could finish, in what Kasumi could imagine with almost a self-satisfied look on her face. Kasumi sighed, defeated.

It was fair, wasn't it?

–

The priest came by to see her first, QEC with hand. Before she could have the gall to reject, he raised a placating hand. “The consort asked me to pass it along to you. She is... preoccupied with other matters.”

“I suppose she said yes to letting you come in here,” Kasumi huffed. But she never said yes to Sha'ira walking into her tent either. If she hadn't known better, she'd think the consort just took her grey-box and destroyed it herself. That would be a little beyond her though. At least, she hoped so. If not, this friendship would be ending very shortly. She extended her hand out for it, and felt a small bit of relief with the cold metal against her bare skin.

The priest lingered though. Again. “Ms. Maeda?”

“Hm?”

“Do you, er, did you happen to see the body?”

“On the count of being nearly blown up? Not really.”

“Oh... Yes, that would stop you from seeing the sights, I suppose.” He fiddled with his hands for a moment, only making them both uncomfortable before sighing. “... I'm happy to see you remained mostly intact. A former--”

“Stop.”

“It's a compliment to your resilience, Ms. Maeda,” offering a small smile in reconciliation. “Though I regret that it ever happened in the first place. You---”

“I know I can't forcibly throw you out, but I will try, and when I fall and start screaming, they're going to blame you.” He didn't bother to respond, instead bowing politely and tucking his tail to go. She gave the courtesy of a, “If you tell anyone, you're dead, priest!” just as the flap closed.

She unwound in a long sigh and tried to settle herself in a way that still made it easy to breathe through the unsettling pressure on her chest. A quick couple of boots and she was greeted to the familiar sight of static before Khalisah's face showed on the screen. The smile was smug initially before she got a good look at her appearance, she thought.

“Uh.”

“So there's a guy setting mines in the city. And that girl was definitely dead... or so I've been told.”

“You're taking this well. … You were hurt?”

“A little.”

She eyed the bandages with a well-worn scowl that paled her cheeks. “Right. Try not to do that again, I guess? Erm...”

The way it made her squirm was funny. “So, maybe you should think about telling the others you're here? Just in case they find you a particularly helpful lone ransom.”

“I'm sure you'll take care of it just fine, thanks.”

Kasumi laughed. “See, that's the sort of thought that gets you killed, dear.”

“If you call me dear again, I swear I'll scream your name to the nearest person.”

“Stay alive, dear.” And with that, she switched off the QEC for now. Khalisah was making a mistake, but if she managed to be caught in one of those trip mines somewhere down the line, it'd save her some of the trouble. She didn't like to drag people that didn't know how to fight in shit like that though. It was her biggest dividing factor when it came to the Terminus Systems. Whether a poor choice or not, others simply tried to live in those neon lights. And just as well, even underneath the veil of blackmail, Khalisah was trying to do the same.

Death. Death was a heavy hand to deal. Maybe one she could finally break and leave behind.

–

The asari came in later when the sun began to sink from the darkening of the folds in the tent. The candle had long since burned out, leaving a fragrant, slightly ashy scent behind. She had dozed somewhere in the early afternoon, tired of the uncomfortable unsettling movement of her ribs and out of sheer boredom. In a way, she was thankful that Sha'ira hadn't dug enough to grab one of her books out of the bag, but it would've been far better company than the QEC-- which she would only connect to a few friends anyway, subordinates not withstanding. So, instead, she slept.

Someone had come in beforehand. This, she knew. Delicate fingers had peeled back the bandages, an unsteady breath before a sigh of relief. It had been warm, and the quiet study had been enough to lull her back to sleep, but she remembered it. She remembered feeling the smile that had been left behind.

That wasn't the asari wife though. The tension settled in with her entrance, just the quick snap of the tent flap. Her eyes were brimmed with something red, and her eyes still looked glossy. A quivering bottom lip, and that lost, listless gape in her expression. Maybe Sha'ira was actively trying to draw those buried down thoughts and feelings, and this was her plan. Expose, and maybe, eventually, that mask would break. Instead, she just wanted to go home.

“The consort...”

“I know. Sit down for me?”

She hadn't wanted to be there either. Her legs dragged to the side of the cot, and she knelt down into something almost prim and proper, only broken by the curvature of her spine, sagging with the weight of her grief. She watched her with the expectation of answers, but that. That wasn't anything anyone could give.

Kasumi sighed. “I'm sorry first of all. If we knew from the start, we may have been able to save her.”

She nodded.

“But those what ifs will always be there. You can hold onto them, or accept that what happened did.” She spent weeks wondering the scenarios. Maybe she could've turned away when Keiji had second-guessed the heist. Maybe she could've stayed with him. Maybe there had been a way to stop the bleeding. Maybe... But none of them brought him back now. Nothing ever would. Not without dying maybe, and if there was a place for the soul, she'd find him there. “And whatever I say here won't change what happens now. It's horrible. That love is.”

The asari furrowed her brow, and the gaze turned into stone. “The consort said you'd know. How--?”

No. She didn't want to talk about it. “That's not important. It... It happened a while ago.” She tried to grab what little advice and comforts she remembered those first few weeks, but she remembered feeling a torn, empty void that swallowed so much of her. Told her it was all for nothing if it didn't mean him. And it was such a scary thought, to remember how much she had put herself in him.

Kiera's hands were warm as she tried to bring her back from it, but it took stripping herself down to just a woman, and putting herself at her aunt's doorstep that she realized no matter how deeply she dug, she wasn't completely human either.

That wouldn't help the newly-made widow. She had no real comfort to give her. Why was she put in this position again? Keiji.... he would've been so much better at this. “I can't say it gets easier either, but... it's manageable. Remember whose with you now--- the kind of people that reach out to you. It may not seem much, but when it's at its worst, you'll remember them.”

“It... it gets worse?”

She grimaced. “You'll be alone. Eventually.” Then the cold would creep in, subtle at first but almost frigid with its loneliness. Then she would remember the steady pattern of his heartbeat against her ear, and the way he seemed to sigh with every second breath. And she would crave it. She would crave it more than anything, and the hurt was so indescribable. Some nights, it'd still sweep her, and today, it just seemed to be waiting. Just when she would close her eyes.

The woman stayed for a time, though for how long, Kasumi couldn't say. Just that with every moment, she could feel how the widow tried to pick up the pieces that were left behind. There wasn't any comfort to give, but hopefully, as she left the briefest of smiles with her departure, she left something to think about.

Kasumi wasn't good at it, and everything hurt so much more and seemed so much more raw now, but maybe, it would be worth it to see someone else step closer to better.

–

“You must hate me.”

Sha'ira only smiled.

“Why did you send her here?”

She unfurled her sleeping bag beside the cot, shoulders loose and free from stress despite what Kasumi was willing to guess was a long day. “It worked, I believe. She seemed in better spirits at dinner. Thank you.”

“You could've done it better.”

She settled herself with her legs tucked underneath her, amusement clear in her eyes. It was a better look on her. “You sell yourself short, Kasumi. The pain of a loved one lost is better described by those that have experienced it. Shut yourself all you like, but you have compassion for those that feel it.”

“You hate me.”

Sha'ira sighed, an amused smile forming on her face as she turned on her heel and scrounged an electric kettle in between what seemed to be a pair of dresses. It didn't take long for steam to begin to form around the spout, and the heat brought some small measure of comfort. “Does it alarm you to be able to relate to someone?”

“More that they could relate to me.”

“And why is that?”

She wasn't sure if that was a serious question or not. There was that whole being a thief thing, and she was... Oh. That was a thought she didn't need to get into. The day had been depressing enough, and all of the reminders had been so unavoidable. It was her fault, clearly. Whether good intentioned or not. They were her thoughts, and from the start, had never been meant to be shared with anyone else on this trip. She still remembered the look the asari widow gave her. How did anyone help heal that? No one could fix her problems, much less herself.

But a warm cup was being passed to her, and the smile that was given made it easy to return, even if a little strained and tired. “Some pains you would never wish on your worst enemy, Consort. That should be reason enough.”

She situated herself beside Kasumi, and the smile waned into content as she breathed into the steam. “... I suppose so. From what little I could gather, I assume this hasn't been an easy road for you.”

“Oh, never.” She grinned. “But we reap what we sow, right? You don't rise up to your status as consort without a little backlash.”

The chuckle died into something more contemplative, the silence creating a thin line for her mouth. Had she said the wrong thing? It wasn't for her to think about, but that was part of making friendships right? Come up with something exciting, try not to piss each other off. But still, there was a gentleness with the way she looked at her. “And you have to consider the damages, don't you?”

“Not when I can count them.”

“Some scars don't show on the skin.”

And the circle came around again. She blew against the hot liquid, ignoring the underlying question, and hoping perhaps that the burning on her tongue would numb the rest of her too. It was a shame that almost never worked. It was a nice little thought to distract her, as if it was ever really possible to absolve all emotional limitation with the sip of something hot. There was the comforting edge of it, a reminder of younger times when magic seemed real enough and her mother's-- She was getting off topic. Sha'ira looked at her expectantly, either for rejection or explanation. Kasumi wasn't sure which one to give.

“You've serviced... that sort of thing before?”

“In a manner of speaking. The side-effects were discovered rather quickly after release. … It has been some time since I have seen a functioning one.” She took a chance in inching a little close to her, just enough for their knees to touch. “Do you have a grey-box installed as well?”

“Of course.”

It didn't seem to be the answer she wanted, because Sha'ira hesitated, noted how little her own expression had changed-- as if afraid at how natural her decision had been. “Did anyone speak to you about the issues that it can pose?”

Enough so. There had been a long, drilling lecture by Kiera, then a series of private hired doctors that had been paid just enough to install it but not enough to not be nervous about doing the procedure. She had joked that Kiera had done that in the hopes that Keiji would die during the installation, a joke that had been briskly brushed off. The both found the idea tempting. The ability to remember every secret, every memory whether on the job or between them. Every little bit of gossip and every detail of a person's face and mannerisms. If anything was forgotten, it was out of willfulness, but oh, if she dug hard enough, it would be there. “I have good doctors, promise,” she decided waving it away would be better than anything else, “You'll be the first to know if anything weird happens.”

“And the other one?”

“No protection plans for assholes splitting your skull open.”

Neither of them laughed, but Kasumi was fine with it. She was fine joking about it because it was easier that way. Coping mechanism, whatever. It kept people from digging too much, but it didn't surprise her to see that Sha'ira wasn't impressed with it. “They must've been important to you.”

“Partner. He was my partner.” And the humor died with it, if it had been there at all.

“I'm sorry.”

The sorry had already been repeated to her countless times before, and it had become almost as sickening as the mere thought of him could be. Revenge was a nice driving force for a while, using that anger and regret to one singular goal, to be thrilled to have that man's blood on her hands. Sometimes, she still relished in the memory of his face sinking and glowering as she removed the shield off the gunship. The evening would come though, and even with the comfort of the grey-box, the lack of direction had been stifling. She never really knew what she wanted after that, and that, she was convinced, was why she went on the crucible project in the first place. “You knew already though,” she said plainly, “Or you wouldn't have sent her in there.”

“I had a hunch that it had been personal.”

She felt tempted by it still, even as the hurt settled in. “So. Tell me, Sha'ira,” she began, “You let yourself fall in love once, and in an instant, it's all gone-- just imagine that briefly.” And still, Kasumi watched her carefully, noted how her eyes briefly flickered away, to a far-off corner of personal affects-- one she could see as an old photo of a younger, livelier her, standing side by side with a gentle matriarch. “You think you could throw something like that away? That's every piece of his life. As it will be mine when I die.”

“It's unlike you to simplify a situation, Kasumi.”

What? She had gotten plenty of responses about that thing, mostly from Shepard after a few drinks, and she had felt the need to say something to save herself from the guilt of letting her keep it. Shepard was perhaps the only person that had the power and her respect to take it from her, but even that, still, didn't start with something so off the rails. “... Why?”

“I can't speak for your partner, of course, but just looking at your history, to say that is all of you is...” And she seemed to think better of her wording, paused with a furrowed, thoughtful look. “... It's irresponsible. We all leave traces behind, and that on its own, can bring comfort where we need it. We leave our memories behind in others. That...”

She didn't want to hear the rest of it.

“That destroys every person that touches it,” and her voice shook as Sha'ira said it. “I have never seen anyone come out of that attachment unscathed. To recover would take even longer.”

“I'm going to sleep.” The silence that followed was nothing like Kasumi had felt in so very long. It was those clear blue eyes staring into her back as she leaned back into the cot, and feeling the concern cut through her. To be asked was nothing. But to have the sympathy? She wasn't sure if it was a thought that scared her or insulted her.

Sha'ira hid a low sigh, and she heard the cot briefly whine and give as she slipped to the small pallet she had made for herself. The only thing that was left behind was a small graze at her calloused finger-tips. Whether out of apology or another small gesture to reach out to her, Kasumi didn't know. For the evening, it was too much for her to think about.

The long silence would be interrupting with the morning, and the startled and stern commands of a salarian that waited for them from the other side of the tent flaps. It would only be then that Kasumi would miss the peace that only came from a closed mouth.

[batkatbrown]

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Something was squeaking in the dark room. A chittering that wasn't quite birdsong but was not entirely unpleasant. Except for the thundering headache that twinged at each chirp as Hanzo dragged himself out of oblivion.

Crust kept his eyes sealed shut for a moment and he sighed into the silk pillow. Everything hurt from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Getting blasted by a sonic scream from a dragon could do that to the best of hunters.

He rolled to the side enough to look at Jesse’s tank and the merman chattering at him with a frown. The creature was slapping the glass with a hand but relaxed into the water when they made eye contact.

He managed a smile and pulled his blanket a little higher. He regretted not putting on warmer clothes before passing out and the chill made his toes curl. There really was only one solution that was easy enough to handle half dead.

“I’m going to take a bath,” he murmured to the tiny merman and began to drag himself vertical. The floor wavered and he had to blink it away before standing. Jesse chattered angrily and zipped to the edge of the tank closest to him with a splash of his tail.

Hanzo rubbed the side of his head not covered by a bruise as he watched his pet. Would it be too strange to take the tank into the bathroom with him? It was surely bizarre behavior. No one else would bring a fish with them from place to place in their own house.

He’s not just a fish, he sighed at the nagging thought, not sure if he was willing to investigate that trail. Jesse batted his big dark eyes up at him, hand clasped to his chest and a seductive flash and ripple of his bright red tail. It was almost a mating display and Hanzo chuckled.

“Fine... you can come with me.”

Jesse chattered and rolled in the water splashing and showing off in the early morning sunlight streaming through the window. His eyes seemed to follow Hanzo though as the hunter went to his closet to fish out a part of swim shorts.

Shucking his pants and underwear he carefully stepped into the small black garment. It hurt to bend over and he winced at the motion. Powerful muscles rippled in his back and thighs as he dragged them up inch by inch.

Slowly letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, he relaxed against the doorframe of the closet. Pain throbbed behind his eyes and he knew he needed to hydrate to fight it off.

“I’ll be back, Jesse,” Hanzo murmured before slowly trekking out of his bedroom and across the hall to the bath. A massive clawfoot tub took center stage and he turned the enchanted faucet and perfectly hot water gushed out. He fiddled with the knobs to the sides to filter out anything that might hurt and grabbed a small vial of golden fluid.

He added three drops to the water and the shimmering magic danced across the top. He left it to brew and shuffled downstairs. It was dark and he didn’t bother turning on the lights while he fetched a tall glass of water and a plateful of sashimi grade salmon.

It was not for him though he needed to eat soon. He was more concerned with keeping Jesse full. The memory of those sharp teeth were fresh in his mind.

It’s dangerous. His mind supplied as he headed back upstairs, ignoring the ache of his limbs. The bounty was worth slaying the dragon that had been harassing a nearby town and killing off livestock.

Jesse scolded him when he finally made it back into the bedroom and Hanzo tried to appease the miniature merman with a hunk of fish. It seemed to do the trick as the little thing swam up and attacked the flesh. Massive chunks disappear faster than Hanzo could see the man take bites and he hummed to cover the greedy wet gurgling sound.

It didn’t take Jesse long to finish his breakfast and Hanzo watched curiously as the tiny creature cleaned himself. He dunked his face in the water and patted himself down from mouth to belly. It pooched out a bit and Hanzo found himself leaning closer.

There was something between the man’s hips he hadn’t noticed before. It was a small slit that extended from the soft human like skin to just past the tiny scales edge. Hanzo tapped a finger softly against the glass and Jesse proudly rolled onto his side with a flash of his tail. He fanned out the fins and waved slowly back and forth.

The little slit opened just a little and a gorgeous coral bit of flesh showed just for a moment.

Hanzo sat back on the bed, rubbing his face to hide the embarrassment. His cheeks pink as he realized what he had been inspecting so curiously. “Let’s go, Jesse.”

--

Jesse preened under Hanzo’s attention, showing off the powerful curve of his tail and the strong membrane between the spines. Hanzo’s chest was so close he could see the delicate pebbled texture around his nipples. The cold air had worked it’s magic and Jesse ached to reach up and wrap his fingers around the fat bud and squeeze.

HIs body responded to the hunters closeness and he rolled his hips invitingly as his slit grew flushed. It was the first time since his run in with the witch that he had felt the flush of heat and surge of desire curling through his body.

“Darlin’, why don’t you pick me up for a proper look?” Jesse crooned, flashing his best smile at the blushing man. “I promise I won’t bite now that I’m fed.”

Hanzo of course could not hear his flirting but Jesse figured he could still try his luck. Or at least enjoy the particular vantage point his size gave him. He licked his lips as Hanzo picked up the heavy tank.

It made the tendons in his neck stand out sharp and beautiful and Jesse didn’t even mind the sloshing all that much. He was soon placed on the sturdy laundry hamper near the bath and he took up his favorite spot on his rock. It was warm and smooth and he could curl into it.

Heat flushed down to the tip of his tail as Hanzo tested the water. His ass perfectly hugged by the thigh swimshorts and a nice fat bulge promised a treat fit to make his mouth water. He whistled and slapped his tail in the water to make his opinions known though it was lost on the man.

The water smelled good to Jesse and he found himself curiously swimming to the wall of his tank to look into the shimmery gold pool. A deep sniff brought the scent of magic to his nose and something sweet like honeysuckle.

“You got yourself a nice healing spell there, Darlin’,” Jesse murmured, glad that at least Hanzo was taking care of himself. He wished he could join him and lazily swim in the big tub and soak up the soothing energy the magic created.

Hanzo’s head tilted back, resting on a rolled up towel on the edge of the tub and sighed through sinfully parted lips. THe water lapped at his chest and up the smooth column of his throat. The bruises there began to shift from purple to green to yellow as the minutes ticked by and Jesse whined at being ignored for so long.

He slapped his hand on the glass and reached up to rattle the top until Hanzo cracked an eye to look at him.

“Hmm?” Hanzo shifted to cross his arms on the edge of the bath and rested his chin on them. “I do not know if it is safe for you to join me in the bath, Jesse.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fine.” Jesse wheedled, not really knowing how the curse would react to being dosed in a restorative potion. It would be worth it to beach himself on hanzo’s gorgeous chest and he crooned as loudly as he could.

Hanzo just shook his head and lay back in the soothing waters. His powerful legs draped along the far edge and Jesse watched transfixed as droplets ran down the hard curves of muscle and dripped into the water. He gulped and squirmed, longing for his true shape and to kiss each sparkling droplet and lick them up.

It was sweet torture to watch his master lounge in the water and each minute seemed far too long. Jesse hummed and pleaded in his jumbled voice to be allowed in and only stopped when Hanzo began to drain the tub.

He watched his chance to cuddle go down the drain and wearily flopped on the sand to pout. He turned his back on the man and curled himself into a ball. He had missed Hanzo and all he wanted was a little bit of petting and maybe an air kiss or a comforting stroke on his back. Was it really too much to ask?

He was too involved in his own thoughts to notice when the water turned back on and Hanzo rose from the tub.

“Do not be mad at me, Jesse.”

The little creature looked up, ready with his best sulk only for it to turn into a laugh as he was picked up. Snuggling in, he rubbed his face aggressively on Hanzo’s fingers, kissing the rough skin. He tugged at the calluses with his teeth and licked up the salt and glimmering remains of the potion with excited chittering.

Hanzo eased them into the tub and Jesse was suspended in the water. Right against Hanzo’s bare breast and he wasted no time in trying to burrow into the soft skin.

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[ramblinganthropologist]

From the mouths of thresher maws

Summary: Well, they had to do something to get that N7 recommendation. Find out what set Bo Peep and Alistair Shepard down the path to being badass space marines. Hint: It’s a fucking thresher maw.  (Warning: blood, gore, dead bodies. Mass Effect good time!)

---

“This is Lieutenant Shepard, can anybody hear me? Repeat, Lieutenant Shepard requesting assistance ASAP!”

But the com line was dead, and he got the feeling they were going to match soon.

Bo pulled him down just in time to avoid flying debris. Hundreds of yards away and closing in fast was something all teeth and bad attitude, just trying to finish the job it had started an hour prior. Funny, there'd been a lot more of them before it showed up. Now...

Now it looked like they were on there own.

“Do you want to wind up like Michaels and Benner?!” Her voice was hoarse, maybe from the smoke or from screaming. She had a long cut that was still bleeding. Anti-coagulant in the saliva? There was only a few doses left in his pack. Of course, she waved it off when he reached for it. “I'm fine. Save it for a real injury.”

Alistair tapped his cracked omni-tool one last time in the hopes of picking something up, but all he got was static and a fuzzy map that showed there was something big in the area. They had no idea if any of their unit was left, where their CO was, or what the fuck was trying to eat them.

It had been a standard mission, too. Go to the weird planet, check shit out, get home. At best, somebody might break a bone messing around. Now there were a lot of broken bones, and they were becoming food for that... that thing.

“We're going to have to move soon.” Bo grabbed her gun and discharged the thermal clip – it hissed in a mud puddle by her side. “You got enough in you to put up another shield?”

He was already reaching into his pack for his emergency energy supply. Down it went, so sugary that it made him want to throw it all back up. But he swallowed it down, and almost immediately felt it working. That would give him 3 more shields of varying strengths and maybe one blast if he didn't get too fancy.

“Yeah. I'm in front then?” He reached for his own rifle and ejected the clip. They were running low on those too; soon it would be nothing but biotic blasts. And if it got down to that, they were beyond fucked.

They waited for their moment, when all was silent, and then they charged from their hiding spot. Almost immediately, the ground began to shake as a massive hole exploded. As it sent razor-sharp shards of rock spewing miles high, there it was.

God, it was fucking ugly. He would've called it a worm but they didn't have mouths like that. Something with that many teeth shouldn't have fucking been alive – it was some Cambrian era shit. Only it wasn't a fossil and it was trying to kill them.

Man, why couldn't it have been a fossil?

It spit something just as he put up his barrier. And there went his barrier. They dodged out of the way just in time, but it still hissed and bit into his gauntlet. Alistair managed to unbuckle it  just before it hit the skin level and watched in horror as it ate right through the damn thing.

“Of course it has fucking acid!” Bo had avoided the attack as well, but she had a cut on her forehead bleeding into her eyes thanks to the flying debris. “Well, now what the fuck do we do?!”

That... was a good question.

Back in training they had covered pretty much everything you could cover being the new kids in space. Batarian pirates – fuck them – had a plan. Krogan battlemasters, had a plan. Turians? Remove the stick up their ass and bargain with it. Hell, even the unexpected flora and fauna they ran across had fucking A and B plans. This thing, though? There was a whole lot of nothing about what to do besides kiss your ass goodbye.

And you know what? He really wasn't in a kissing mood. Forgot to brush his teeth that morning.

The creature let out some bone-rattling sound when it didn't find them and popped its entire body back underground. Wherever it was burrowing, it wasn't going to leave them alone. He might not have known what it was, but he knew in his gut that it was coming back. It was a predator, and they were the prey.

Well, good thing they played apex predator on earth.

He looked over at Bo. There was a boulder in her range, maybe a quarter ton if he was estimating right. “Chuck that thing with your biotics right in the middle of the clearing. Once it pops up, we'll hit it with everything we have left.”

“And if it doesn't work?” The ground was starting to shake a little again.

“We run like hell and use every bit of biotics that hasn't been worn out. We're making it to that landing zone, I don't care.”

The shaking was getting worse and felt like a small earthquake under their feet. Briefly, red eyes met blue. The two nodded, and then Bo started glowing. The boulder shook itself free from the earth and rose into the air by nearly a  foot. Then there was nothing to do but hurl it as hard as she could. It sailed over head and landed hundreds of yards away with a sickening crack that split it clean in two.

And then it was gone as the creature shot out of the air and swallowed it like it was a piece of candy.

“Now!”

Al's rifle was molten hot as he unloaded the entire clip as fast as humanly possible. Bo was right there with him, blood trickling from her nose and down her face. By the time both had realized what was going on, their guns were empty.

And it was still fucking perfect.

They didn't get their chance to run – it was on them so fast that they had barely had time to think. Bo managed to dodge cleanly out of the way, but her partner wasn't so lucky. A spray of razor sharp debris hit Al dead on and smacked clean through his visor.

Blood poured from under the seal in his cracked helmet as he hit the ground hard. The creature had already gone back underground and was no doubt digging its way towards them to swallow him up. He was moving, but not a lot.

Bo didn't even think – she sprinted over, threw him over her shoulder, and made a break for it through the no man's land clearing. The ground rumbled and exploded behind her just as the large worm with too many teeth shot out of the ground, hissing and spitting its acid. A shuttle-sized puddle where the two had been became a puddle of acidic mud that bubbled in its wake. A few seconds earlier, and it would have been then.

“Talk to me, you better not be dead!”

“Eye's gone. I can't see.” Al's voice betrayed his terror as his hand glowed. “Keep running, it's a couple clicks left!”

The landing was in sight and someone was waving them in – rescue squad after the coms had gone dead? Fuck if it mattered, as long as it was human Bo was going for it. They could do a hostile takeover later if they had to do it.

The creature was rearing up for another round as it exploded from the ground. Al, still bleeding and barely conscious, grunted as his remaining eye glowed a brilliant blue. His hand shot out a huge disk of blue light, slamming hard enough into the worm's side to stun it for a few seconds. That was all they needed to slide into the safe zone.

“Get this damn thing moving before it comes back for seconds!”

That was the last thing Al remembered as someone tried to get his helmet off. Whether it was the blood loss or the overuse of his biotics, but the world was going dark. He slumped against Bo's shoulder and that was all he knew.

---

It was much calmer when he woke up.

“I'm not dead, am I?”

Fuck, it hurt to even talk. So did the punch that almost broke his fucking arm.

“Learn to fucking dodge, asshole.”

Bo sounded like she hadn't slept in days, and when Al looked over that just confirmed it. She was in the same clothes he had seen her in the day before it had gone to hell, the only difference was there was less dirt on her skin. She was sitting upright in the chair next to him, her omni-tool displaying details of the attack.

The council called it a thresher maw.

“They said they're amazed that even two of us made it out.” She snarled as she clicked it close. “Fuckers should've warned us about the fucking hell worm.”

Alistair nodded, but that made his head hurt even worse. He placed his hand up to hold it and touched the bandages that were wrapped around almost the entire right side of his head. Memories flooded back, and his shoulders sagged as he sighed.

“Was it a total loss?”

Bo had been in the process of making a rude gesture to her omni-tool. “What, your eye? It's still in there but the doc said it's shot. Too bad, pretty sure if you had lost the whole thing they would've put some tech thing in. You would've loved it.”

Oh, he would've. Alistair let out a weak laugh as he closed his working eye. “That's gonna be fun to live with if they put me back on duty.”

When, probably. If they were the only two Alliance soldiers to ever throw down with a thresher maw, there was no way in hell that either of them were going to be discharged anytime soon. Well, that was fine by him. It wasn't like he had any more marketable skills.

Still...

Alistair's voice went quiet as he looked out the window at space. “Did they find anyone else?”

Bo didn't answer for a long time. She too looked out the window as they passed stars far in the distance. Right then, space looked bigger and colder than it ever was. Now it was even worse – there were killer space worms out there.

“Only thing they found were chewed up bodies and dog tags. They think they identified about a quarter of our unit.”

She looked back at the man in the bed. “So... that's a lot of calls they're making.”

“Yeah.” Alistair swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. “Well... guess we're going to have to find a new unit. Dunno who's gonna want two disaster lieutenants.”

Much to his surprise, Bo snickered. It wasn't often she laughed – and when she did it was usually after beating the shit out of somebody – so he blinked back surprise. She was showing him her teeth in a bitter grin. In a way, it reminded him of a wounded wild animal trying to get out one more snarl.

“Wanted to tell you when you were better. We're getting a rank up.”

And then she slid the datapad over. There in black and white on pixels, the Alliance invited them both to the fabled N7 training in Rio. Some of their squad had gone through it before – the record was N3 – and said it was hell on earth.

Well, it couldn't beat nearly getting eaten by a thresher maw, so hey. Maybe they stood half a chance in hell.

Alistair found himself chuckling bitterly too as he pushed the datapad to the side. “We're going to be the best N7 marines ever.”

“Damn straight. You read the shit, I shoot the shit.” And then she pushed him down. “Get some rest. They're going to be grilling you when you're up to it.”

Of course. Alistair rolled his eyes as he settled back into bed, datapad still at his side. Whatever they had used on him was making his eyes heavy. At least he knew Bo was still there at his side as he blinked out for a nap.

After all, that's how they did things.

[darkfalcon-z]

You cannot take it back make it undone. Chapter 8: Planet Landrine: Part II

almost 7900 words, gen, dbz au, Gohan, Raditz

warnings: child abuse, this and next chapter are probably quite of emotional roller coaster (generally bad shit happens in this story,  if you are interested in reading this story, but you are uncertain it is safe for you, contact me)

Many thanks to over-8000 for beta reading this chapter

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Gohan woke slowly and noticed that something seemed different this morning. Unlike previous days, he wasn't shuddering from cold, the smell was different, and something really warm and quite massive was wrapped around him. Something living and breathing. The calm rhythm of another’s breath and the surrounding warmth made him doze again before he figured it out. Soon he woke for good, still in this wonderfully comfortable and warm place.

He laid next to Raditz, basically in the latter’s embrace. Raditz's hair covered both of them like a blanket. He was sheltered by Raditz chest and arms and his head rested on the other’s biceps. But he wasn't squished. In fact. there was enough room for him to get away if he wanted to.

There was probably no harm in staying where he was. It was so calm and comfortable! Gohan really didn't want the day to start yet. Unfortunately he must had stirred because Raditz woke up. He moved some of the hair away and a gust of colder air hit Gohan's face.

"You awake?" Raditz looked at Gohan through half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," Gohan answered in whisper, because he didn't want to ruin the quiet moment.

Raditz yawned and gave Gohan a half smile. He seemed to be in an okay mood. This relieved Gohan, who wasn't sure if he would be punished for crying last night, even though Raditz hadn't shown any anger earlier.

"Guess we need to get up. A breakfast would be nice. What'd you say?"

"mhm... food." Gohan was, in fact, getting hungry.

Raditz turned over on his back and chuckled.

Gohan sat up. He scratched his itching head. He wasn't sure if the unpleasant sensation was caused by insect bites or by the fact he hadn't washed his hair in a long time. Gohan had already tried washing it in a stream during the Saiyans’ stay on planet Skwash, but the water had been cold and he didn't have any shampoo. It only made the state of his hair worse. Asking Raditz wasn't much help, since he didn't know what shampoo was. However he always assisted in removing insects from Gohan’s scalp.

"Gohan..." Raditz laid an hand on his shoulder and interrupted Gohan’s thoughts. "... you can't show weakness in front of people. They WILL go for it and hurt you if you do." He crouched right in front of Gohan, which was unusual, and looked at him intensely. Gohan fidgeted and shifted back slightly. The extraordinary behaviour made him feel a bit like a deer caught in headlights.

"I... yes..." he managed to spit out.

"I'm here," Raditz said, an earnest expression on his face. "I'm with you."

Gohan understood this was meant as reassurance, but he wasn't entirely certain what Raditz meant by it. The way he saw it, Raditz was all too willing to hurt him as well. He nodded, keeping his eyes on Raditz face. This response seemed to satisfy Raditz because he cracked a tiny smile.

Raditz leaned forward and pressed the side of his face against Gohan’s for a very brief moment, but before Gohan could make sense of this action and respond in any way, he broke the contact and stood up.

"Let's go catch breakfast. We have work to do." They soon left without bothering to clean up their camp: the disarrayed nest, the remnants of bonfire and their previous meals littered the site. They weren’t going back anyway.

The rest of the day was as miserable as the previous one, and just like every day in the previous weeks had been. Smoke and dust caused Gohan’s eyes to tear up. The smells of slaughter made him more and more ill as did the sight of dying people. Raditz preferred to kill his victims quickly, so at least most of them didn’t suffer. But Gohan still tend to botch the job more often than not. As a result he was forced to see them die slow, painful deaths. Once Gohan tried to lessen the suffering of an injured Landrinian who had not died immediately due to his inept shot. Raditz dragged him away and berated him for the unnecessary loss of time and energy. Even hours after the battle was done, Gohan still heard the gurgling and pained noises of the creature gasping for breath in his mind.

The day left Gohan sad and exhausted, aching for the slightest bit of comfort and respite from the hell that surrounded him even though- or more likely because- his hands had helped to bring this particular hell into existence.

*** It was time to rest again after a long day. Finally. Raditz stretched out in their newly built nest. He turned to his side to watch the cub. Gohan sat on the edge of the nest again. His tail swayed in a manner that indicated the cub was uncertain what to do.

"Come here," Raditz motioned with one hand. "You'll be warmer and comfier."

Hesitantly, Gohan crawled to him and laid down by his side. His small body remained tense and his wide eyes kept darting to Raditz face and away.

Raditz reached out and started to slowly, gently stroke Gohan’s hair to soothe the cub. He knew that Gohan’s hair had a different texture than a typical Saiyan, even if one considered that children usually had softer hair than adults, Gohan's tresses were still more delicate and tangled up more easily. Raditz already had noticed it wasn't coated properly, and he figured that Gohan's former caretakers had done something to remove the natural oily coating. Fortunately whatever had been done had not damaged the scalp’s ability to produce oils, and the child's hair was steadily regaining its normal coating. Then Raditz dug his fingers in Gohan's mop to massage his scalp. Time and again, he needed to untangle mats. He proceeded gently, so not to disturb the resting child. Hopefully the extra stimulation would cause the skin glands to produce oils faster. Raditz thought that, with his hair in such a disastrous state, Gohan looked like a Flying Child - like he had been abandoned. This idea was reinforced by how skinny the boy was. By his observations, Raditz could tell that Gohan's overall well being needed more attention.

Soon Gohan relaxed and moved even closer to him.

"See, it's better," Raditz murmured. Finally the cub was starting to treat him with a dose of familiarity. That simple act made Raditz’s face light up with a smile, and he didn’t even realize that his expression had changed.

It was good to have another Saiyan to keep him company even if that Saiyan was a weak and frail cub. Raditz had a hard time admitting - even to himself- that before the test at the end of their previous purge, he had been afraid of the impression the child might make on him. He had not wanted to risk developing any sort of relationship between the two of them and had limited contact with Gohan on purpose. That way if the child died, Raditz wouldn’t have been disappointed or upset by the loss.

Raditz had lost strong relationships in the past when Planet Vegeta had been destroyed, and it had hurt immensely. So he didn’t even want to risk acknowledging the child’s name. It would be much easier to forget about a nameless creature. Raditz knew he couldn't avoid the risk forever, but he couldn't bring himself to take it right away. To keep himself safe, he had waited until the risk dropped to an acceptable level.

But since the test the child had been put through on Planet Skwash, Raditz really allowed himself to believe it was likely that Gohan would survive and stay on as a part of their group. It was a very comforting notion. It meant they were going to have one more member in their company but it also meant there was hope for the future. Maybe they weren't going to be last generation of their kind. Maybe someone would be around to tell their names and their deeds to the future after all.

Raditz coiled his tail around Gohan's tiny frame and wrapped his hair around both of them to ward off the cold night air. Gohan had fallen asleep already. The child’s smell was good since he settled down. Raditz inhaled deeply. It was calming. The scent of the sleeping cub brought back the memories of sharing a nest with other young Saiyans back home.

Before he arrived on Earth, Raditz had expected that he would need to take the role of teacher because Kakarot, left on that gods-forsaken planet, had not been brought up and trained in the proper Saiyan way. Raditz hadn't known what state he would find his brother in. Space pods for the infants were equipped with learning modules, but they were meant to house small children for a few years and teach basic skills, not as a lifelong support for a growing Saiyan.

Oh, sure Raditz had been hoping for the best. Perhaps the mudball would provide Kakarot with learning opportunities of its own. But it might not. Add to that many possible years of isolation... Raditz had been fully prepared to find that his brother might not be able to put together a coherent sentence and would require constant supervision around other people. He also assumed Kakarot was strong enough to hold his own in a fight and capable of surviving in the wilderness with minimum instructions or demonstrations. The possibility that Kakarot might had made some sort of connection with Earth's inhabitants had barely crossed Raditz’s mind. He surely hadn't considered his brother might have straight-up joined the natives.

But even then Raditz had never in his wildest dreams expected to find a child. A CHILD. He felt too old for the role of nest brother, especially for a very young and untrained cub. Such a small, weak and inexperienced Saiyan needed a lot of care and attention. There were simply too few of them left to give adequate care. Plus they all were adults.

The Saiyan model of raising children was based on placing the kid with a herd of other brats and letting them be. Often brats needed someone to supervise them; that was largely limited to being close enough for emergency damage control and not watching the kids the whole time. Sure, cubs had plenty of opportunities to watch and interact with older Saiyans, to ask them questions and learn from them. But for the most part they were not supposed to rely on adults in general and certainly not for their day-to-day care. That included all of the little things they needed others to do for them without which, Raditz was well aware, children could not develop properly. Even for adult Saiyans, the lack of such simple things could make life almost unbearable.

Arguably, life experience made adults good teachers, but they were too old to understand the needs of small cubs since they were supposed to grow out of THAT frame of mind. Naturally, the brunt of child care duties had fallen on Raditz shoulders, but at least this time it wasn’t only because he was the weakest member of the group. As the last member of his House, Gohan was Raditz's responsibility.

It would be better if Raditz could take time off to train the cub properly without being forced to constantly leave him behind. For now, Gohan couldn't keep up and would only slow him down. Surely, if they were given more time together, Gohan would become accustomed to him sooner and Raditz would certainly be able teach him more. But Vegeta just wouldn't allow it, especially after Raditz's prolonged absence. Not that Raditz opposed introducing the brat to his future tasks early on, but he knew it would be smarter to let Gohan adjust at his own pace.

Raditz just wanted to give Gohan the care and teaching he needed. Well, of course he wanted to! It was the best way to ensure the cub not only survived but grew stronger. It was not only his duty as the leader of his House but it would also benefit him in the long run. It would benefit ALL of them. It frustrated Raditz he couldn't do that due to circumstances. And while it was obvious it was detrimental to his goals, he just didn't know why it bothered him so much.

He felt a smaller tail wrap around his. Confusion and frustration left Raditz, replaced by a sense of warmth The cub next to him was in deep slumber. It was high time he fell asleep as well.

*** Soon Raditz and Gohan fell into a routine. Each day started with hunting for breakfast. After the meal they took time for hair grooming, as it was easier to do it in the bright light of the morning than during eerie night times. Usually Raditz would either comment on something that had occurred during the previous day, pointing out relevant details, or he would explain what they were going to do next.

If he didn’t have anything important to say to fill the time, he would just chatter away about completely unrelated topics. He would often try to tell Saiyan legends, but he rarely managed to finish his story as the thoughts of everyday activities interrupted him or Gohan would ask him a question about titbits of Saiyan life mentioned during the retelling. Raditz seemed to enjoy talking, with one hand running gently through Gohan’s hair and the other gesticulating wildly to re-enact events in the story. Afterwards they would have a short sparring session, or alternatively Raditz would show Gohan some new technique or exercise.

If he was in a good mood, Raditz would oftentimes carry the conversation on through the sparring session, even though it meant he would basically carry it out on his own. Gohan could hardly catch a breath, let alone answer. Raditz wasn’t particularly gentle during the sparring sessions; he often left Gohan severely bruised but was cautious not to leave any more permanent injuries.

Raditz taught Gohan Forms for flying and once Gohan learned to perform them properly he sometimes would just unexpectedly grab the child, fling him unceremoniously into the air and then let him fall to the ground.

“It’s for motivation,” Raditz laughed off Gohan's protests. “Plus you get the feeling of being in the air. It’ll help when you start to fly on your own,” he claimed.

For now the only result was that Gohan learned to get his bearings quickly enough to land with a minimal amount of bruises. Gohan was sure Raditz was throwing him higher each time, but Raditz just laughed at the accusation.

Every morning Raditz took Gohan along so he could become accustomed to their work and then later dropped the boy off with instructions to train and prepare the camp for the night. They hunted together for food, but Gohan had to gather materials for building their nest and fuel to feed the fire on his own.

Gohan also collected fruits and if he managed to find something that intrigued him, he took a sample so he could ask Raditz later about it. Raditz seemed genuinely happy whenever Gohan come to him with these sort of questions and he always tried to answer them the best he could. Although, sometimes Gohan suspected Raditz made things up about alien artifacts just to keep talking. He was too shy and insecure to call Raditz out on it. Of course, Gohan had to continue with his training regime when was left on his own but he preferred that over helping Raditz with the 'job'.

When Raditz returned to their camp for the evening the first sun had usually already set and the second was about to join it. He would help Gohan arrange the nest properly and he would dig out meat from the pit they used to cook it. One time they camped near the ocean and ate fish, but it was too salty on its own and Gohan was barely able to finish his portion.

Every morning, they spent a significant amount of time on daily grooming. Raditz was actually quite particular about hygiene. He just didn't look at it in the same way Mom did. In fact, Mom would probably start to hyperventilate and need have to lay down for some time if ever confronted with Raditz's notion of ‘hygiene’.

Raditz paid particular attention to removing insects from their skin and hair. Moreover he was adamant about removing all sticky, organic substances both from the surface of the body and from clothes. He was very strict about Gohan doing it as well. As much as Raditz seemed happy to get covered in blood, he would clean up as soon as possible before it started to rot. He usually accomplished this task by licking the blood off from wherever he could reach.

The fact that it was hard to find usable water on the planet didn't seem to bother Raditz in the least. He'd use mud, dust, ash, plants' pulp or lumps of “leaves” to clean up. It baffled Gohan how one could use dirt to remove dirt, but Raditz actually managed to get clean... well, sort of. He did manage to remove most of the offending matter, but the final effect certainly didn't smell too appealing.

Gohan tried to mimic these operations with mixed results. For one thing, it was a lot harder to remove filth from his woven clothes than it was from the hard surface of Raditz’s armour. For the other, he didn't quite get the hang of removing smudges of dirt from his skin. As long as it wasn't organic matter, or more specifically animal matter, Raditz didn't pay any mind and did not chastise Gohan for improper grooming. If Raditz saw Gohan struggling with cleaning for too long he would kneel down and assist the child.

“Those clothes of yours are too impractical. I’ll get you something more appropriate soon,” Raditz fumed. He seemed almost personally offended by Gohan’s clothes and how hard it was to remove blood from them.

The idea of parting with his garb made Gohan very sad, although he could see the logic to it: silk and cotton seemed to almost suck in filth in comparison to the polymers Raditz’s outfit had been made from. Still, his clothes were the only things Gohan had from his home. They were the only link, the only physical proof. that he indeed came from Earth.

Raditz found a root of one of the local plants that helped soothe the burning caused by the insects' bites that needed to be chewed up and mixed with saliva first. Gohan followed Raditz’s example and rubbed the resulting pulp into his scalp. It definitely helped, but Gohan couldn’t help imagining the disgusted face Mom would make if she could have seen him.

***

Gohan also continued to learn more about the ancient Saiyan art of self-diagnosis. Raditz told Gohan to always examine his wounds, even the minor bruises. There was an enormous amount of information that could be learned just from palpating an injury, but it required equally substantial experience to understand the results.

As much as Gohan enjoyed practicing diagnostics, there were the parts of it that he didn’t look forward to: the smellier parts. Outside of the fact that smelling things was a relatively new skill for Gohan, as it was virtually unknown to Earthlings, what Gohan had to analyse by smell wasn’t exactly roses. “Why do I have to do it every day?” Gohan complained while poking a small pile of his own fresh poop with a long insect limb, because no sticks were available on the planet.

“Quit whining. I told you already,” Raditz grumbled. He crouched next to Gohan and supervised the boy’s examinations. “It’s an essential part of self-diagnosis. You check the smell, the colour, and the consistency to tell how healthy you are. Particularly how your body reacts to a new diet, if you digest everything properly and whether or not you are lacking anything. You also check for stuff that shouldn’t be there, like signs of parasites and blood.”

“And what if there are parasites,” Gohan asked. He felt a little anxious. Earlier they had a conversation about what nasty things parasites could do to one’s body. Contracting parasites was a considerable danger from consuming unknown food. Raditz was teaching him how to recognize the signs of infestation, but there were some indiscernible to anything short of specialised equipment. Not to mention that Gohan still lacked necessary experience to do it well.

“Then we try identify what kind of parasite it is, and how it affects our health. Don’t worry if you are infested, you’ll be almost certainly rid of it during your next trip to the disinfection chamber, likely before you even notice that something is amiss,” Raditz assured.

“But what if it’s aggressive and grows quickly?” Gohan continued the inquiry.

“We have a medical kit in the pod, there’s medications that should inhibit most of the types the parasites. And if it isn’t gone after visiting disinfection chamber, there are many other available treatments,“ Raditz answered patiently.

“We have a medical kit? Why don’t we ever use it?” Gohan was surprised. He had never even suspected they had such a thing.

“Because we don’t have to. The supplies are very limited and for emergencies only. I teach you these things so you don’t have to rely on it. Now, what can you tell about your diet?” Raditz cut off the discussion with his next question.

“I need more fibre,” Gohan declared, to which Raditz nodded approvingly.

***

Every night Gohan crawled into the nest to sleep next to Raditz. It was much more comfortable than sleeping on the edge of the nest and he didn't feel so exposed. Oddly enough, whenever Gohan drew close to Raditz the latter’s expression turned softer and his posture relaxed. Gohan could tell that Raditz wasn’t a very happy person, although it was difficult for a young child to explain what made him think that. But whenever they were close, whether in the nest or by the campfire. Raditz seemed more at ease. Raditz stroked his hair or rub his back until the stress of the day left Gohan and sleep claimed him. On occasion when he dozed off by the bonfire, he woke up in the nest by Raditz's side the following morning.

Gohan was steadily beginning to accept the new reality of his life. It wasn't a dream. He wasn't going to wake up safely in his bed. Dad wasn't going to show up and take him home. Life wasn't good. It was probably never going to be good ever again. At least in Raditz's embrace it was warm. Weirdly enough, being that close made Gohan feel safe. There was nothing on the surface of the planet that could pose a threat to Raditz except for Vegeta and Nappa; they were far away and at least nominally they weren’t enemies. Gohan felt well protected.

Gohan just sought out whatever small comfort he could find. It might have been weird to look for comfort from the person who was responsible for his misery in the first place, but there was no one else to turn to. Gohan thought he should hate Raditz, for all the things the other had done to him and to countless innocent people, but he couldn't quite muster it. Gohan never had hated anyone before. It didn't seem to come naturally to him.

And then there was the idea that his presence made Raditz a little bit happier. When he thought about that, it made Gohan warm inside, although he didn’t know why. It was a good thing- making someone who was unhappy feel better. Maybe Gohan was doing something good after all.

The days blended together and Gohan didn’t know how much time had passed. Most of the time, his reality seemed like feverish nightmare. Slowly Gohan adjusted to purging. He still felt ill but he managed to keep his composure enough as not to vomit or collapse. It scared him. He was making more kills as well and that scared him too.

One time they met up with Nappa, who stayed with them for the evening meal and the night. He seemed to be quite content and laughed loudly as he commented on Gohan's progress. Gohan dozed off shortly after he finished eating so he didn't know what Raditz and Nappa talked about, but he recalled hearing them chat through the fog of sleep. When he woke up Raditz was already up and Nappa was gone, but Gohan could clearly smell the other Saiyan's scent all over the nest.

Gohan was often too tired to pay much attention or to contemplate about what was happening, and in a way it was a blessing. But when he was able to muster enough energy, he tried to observe and learn about his -for the lack of better term- new guardian. Despite the fact Gohan spent the better part of each day alone, he and Raditz were spending much more time together now than during their stay on planet Skwash. On one hand, Gohan was relieved to not be alone all the time. It lifted his spirits to hear another person's voice and comforting to feel a presence near. On the other hand, he also felt anxious because Raditz had more occasions to be mean or violent to him. It was impossible to find any semblance of solace in crying when Raditz was around, as he would chastise Gohan for it.

As Gohan had observed earlier, Raditz would crouch beside him when they talked. Recently, he would get so close that their bodies actually touched, even though previously he had kept his distance. Gohan wondered about that change. It was oddly reassuring to feel his shoulder or arm or knee connecting to something warm and alive, to know someone else was present even if he was looking in another direction. However if they were at 'work', Raditz would avoid touching him unless absolutely necessary and would firmly pull away if Gohan got too close. In fact the way that Raditz presented himself on the battlefield was different and much more rigid than his behavior in camp even when Gohan was the only one present, not counting their victims.

But when they relaxed together by the campsite, Raditz never pushed Gohan away. At times Gohan pressed tightly up against Raditz’s arm or chest in an attempt to stop himself from crying. Raditz must had known what he was doing and why because of the way Gohan’s body shook, the rhythm of his breathing, and even his smell betrayed him. It was impossible not to notice Gohan was almost crying, but for whatever reason Raditz overlooked this behaviour. He didn't push Gohan away, he asked no questions nor did he address it in any way afterwards. He let it be without words of comfort of chastisement. At most he would readjust Gohan into more comfortable position or rub his back until the child calmed down.

It wasn't what Gohan needed. If Mom and Dad were there, they would ask Gohan what was wrong and they would assure him everything was going to be alright.

Or maybe not. Maybe they wouldn't want Gohan anymore. After all Gohan was sure his parents would strongly disapprove of what he had done. Would they excuse his actions because he didn’t do it out of his own choice? Mom and Dad were good and kind, but Gohan wasn’t like them anymore. He knew he wasn’t. He had heard that actions speak about a person’s character, and he thought his actions were abhorrent. So maybe Mom and Dad wouldn’t want a child like him. If they saw Gohan, if they knew what he did, maybe they'd just leave him with Raditz. Just thinking about it hurt. Perhaps it was better not to think about it.

*** One evening after the two Saiyans already laid down their freshly constructed nest, Gohan hazily remembered something Raditz had mentioned at another time. Something about missing HIS mom. Raditz must have been still a kid when she died. Since she had died was there any one who would hug and kiss Raditz's forehead the same way Gohan's Mom did for him?

Gohan seriously doubted Vegeta would ever hug anyone. Maybe Nappa would hug Raditz? With that big body and large arms, he seemed like he could be good at hugging. Like Grandpa. Being kissed by Nappa couldn't have been a nice experience with that moustache of his. Gohan cringed inwardly at the thought. It would be like being kissed by Grandpa. Gohan loved his Grandpa but disliked being kissed by him, as his coarse facial hair always brushed against Gohan’s skin unpleasantly. Yet it was kind of hard to imagine Nappa actually hugging anyone. Not to mention, he was presently on another continent. Raditz was often alone, so the occasions when he could have been hugged must had been scarce.

The thought that Raditz didn't get hugs and kisses made Gohan oddly sad. Maybe Raditz was so harsh because no one hugged him or kissed his forehead? Not even when he went to bed! Maybe Raditz wanted someone to do that for him? The idea was intriguing. Spontaneously, Gohan reached out to test his hypothesis. He placed his small hand on Raditz’s cheek and waited for a reaction.

Raditz laid, supporting his head with one hand. He hadn’t looked at the child next to him, but he absentmindedly rubbed circles between Gohan's shoulder blades with his free hand. The touch on his face got Raditz’s attention. He peered down at Gohan and locked gazes with him. The cub’s expression, absent of the slightest hint of a smile or frown, was hard to interpret. Gohan’s lips were slightly parted as if he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what, and his eyes were wide open. Apparently Gohan had touched him to get his attention and then watched to see his reaction, but Raditz had no idea what Gohan expected of him. He moved his hand and placed it over the tiny one resting on his face for a moment as if to assure himself that it was really there.

"What are you on about?" Raditz murmured.

Gohan hesitated. Raditz did not seem displeased. He didn’t quite know how to express what he wanted to ask, so intuitively he pulled himself up to hug Raditz and then kissed his forehead.

Tiny arms wrapped around Raditz neck. And if that was not enough, Gohan leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. Raditz chuckled, completely oblivious to Gohan’s inner debate. The gesture seemed a little 'alien' to him, but still affectionate. It meant the child had warmed up to him and was trying to strengthen their relationship. In response he pulled Gohan up and connected their temples.

Happy with the unexpected act of tenderness, Raditz turned on his back and pulled the child along to lay on his chest. This position was much more comfortable for both of them and didn't require Gohan, who continued to keep his arms around Raditz’s neck, to lay at an awkward angle.

After a moment of consideration, Raditz stirred and freed his hair from under his body and then wrapped it around Gohan in case they fell asleep. The tattered remnants of clothes Gohan wore exposed him to the elements. Gohan lacked a fat layer to protect him from the cold, and his own hair was too short to provide any real cover.

How long had it been since anyone had shown Raditz affection in such a spontaneous way? Too long! Raditz would never confess this to Vegeta and Nappa. but at this moment he was sure the Gods of Battlefield must had been powerful enough to survive the drift of Vegeta's Moon after the destruction of the Planet, because they had sent Raditz on a path to seize their blessing. Or at least to win back what had been taken from him.

Gohan understood that Raditz welcomed his gesture. He laid his head down without letting go of Raditz’s neck. He closed his eyes and let sleep overcome him. By the next morning, he only had most vague recollection of what happened and he thought he dreamed it up.

Raditz didn’t bring it up either. It was not the Saiyan way to talk about such things, and it never occurred to him to even try.

*** "We are going to see Vegeta tomorrow. He an’ Nappa are leaving this mudball already." Raditz proclaimed one 'evening', while they waited for their additional helping of game to cook.

"What?!... But... why haven't you told me earlier? I'm not prepared!" Gohan panicked.

Raditz scowled in discontent. "I don't like your attitude."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Gohan couldn't help but cower defensively "- I didn't mean to be disrespectful... I..." He didn't managed to finish before Raditz smacked him with enough force to make him lose his balance, but not enough to send him to the ground. Gohan hung his head low.

"That's not what I fucking meant! Saiyan up! Show some backbone!" Raditz lifted Gohan's head up by pulling his hair, making him stand straight.

"Now, what concerns you? Do you think I would just let you idle around if I didn't have confidence in your power and skill? Your training should be sufficient as it is. Or do you doubt my judgment?"

"No..." It wasn't quite true. Even though he managed to keep his gaze up, his voice shook as he answered. Raditz gave him an angry glare.

"What is it?" When Gohan did not answer, Raditz sighed. "Speak your mind. I won't beat you up if you speak clearly, whatever it is. On the other hand..." he left the threat hanging in the air.

"It's that I can't really keep up with you. I don't fight that well," Gohan blurted out.

Raditz narrowed his eyes and scowled. "Is that all?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes," Gohan gulped.

"How old are you?" Raditz demanded.

"Over four years old," Gohan whispered.

"How old do you think I am?" Raditz crossed his arms.

"I don't know... older than Dad," Gohan answered hesitantly.

Raditz nodded. "That's many times over as old as you, right? How long have you been training?"

Gohan knitted his eyebrows. "I... um...haven't counted."

"Whatever. How do you think it compares to the amount of time I've been doing this?" Raditz asked impatiently.

"You've been doing way longer than I have," Gohan whispered.

"'S right. I have over a quarter of a Moon ahead of you in training, and that's longer than your Father had been alive. There's no way in hell you'll be anywhere near my level any time soon," Raditz explained. "And even if you'd somehow gained enough power to compare, there's still the fact that you're a cub and I'm an adult. Believe me, you wouldn't be able to keep up with me either. Your power is now within the expected range for your age and you won't hold me back anymore. That's enough for now."

"But Vegeta..."Gohan said with uncertainty

"Vegeta has outrageous demands. But even he isn't THAT unreasonable. He knows this stuff already. As long as your presence is not detrimental to us, he won't order your death," Raditz stated firmly.

Gohan nodded and accepted the answer. Well there wasn't anything else he could do now, really. He just needed to convince himself Raditz was right.

Raditz continued to eye him, discontented.

"You know, I should have you running additional laps for your spineless attitude, but it's more important that you are well rested for tomorrow, so another day."

The fact that Raditz expected to discipline him later was weirdly reassuring. Still Gohan hoped Raditz would actually forget.

Raditz seemed irritated for the rest of the meal. Once he finished eating and went to the nest he turned his back to Gohan. Gohan crawled in after him, but sat down an arm's reach away, unsure what to do. Would Raditz be angry if he attempted to come closer? He nursed his freshly blooming bruise. He could deal with pain, but he didn't know what to do if Raditz pushed him away.

Gohan wasn't given any more time to think about it. Something furry wrapped itself around his ankle and he yelped as he was whooshed into the air. His landing was clumsy, but thankfully he had fallen into the soft bedding of the nest.

"You should get to sleep already." He heard Raditz grumble from beside him. "You have quite a day ahead of yourself, you know."

After he shook off the impact, Gohan noticed he’d landed on the other side of Raditz and much closer to him too.

That was enough for an answer.

*** The next day went a lot smoother than Gohan expected. Vegeta was basically indifferent after he measured Gohan's battle power. Nappa, on the other hand, was quite enthusiastic to test Gohan's skills again. This time he continued the sparring match until Gohan collapsed from exhaustion and painful bruises. At least Nappa seemed quite pleased afterwards. He awkwardly patted Gohan, who laid face down on the ground, on the back and commended the boy for the improvement on his technique and endurance.

After that, Raditz was ordered to stay on the planet and finish off the remaining survivors. Gohan was to stay with him while Vegeta and Nappa left the planet to visit an outpost belonging to someone called Frieza. Gohan didn’t pay attention; he had trouble getting up from the ground due to his pain and exhaustion. He wanted to stay where he was, but he was afraid someone might kick him if he did.

Raditz collected him after the others went to their pods. He carried Gohan to the nest they had used the previous night and tucked him in the wooly lining. He even let Gohan rest for the remainder of the day and brought him food. The roasted, unsalted meat from one of the big lizards wasn't the tastiest of dishes, but it was tender and filling. When eaten together with the salty and somewhat bitter sea fish, it made for a passable meal. Gohan even got some seeds the size and shape of marbles for a desert. The flavour and texture was similar to fresh hazelnuts. And of course, plenty of fresh and juicy fruits to keep him hydrated.

Satisfied, but still tired, he dozed off shortly after he finished eating.

*** "Why the long face?" Raditz asked Gohan. They had finished the purge; no more intelligent life remained on the planet, save for the two Saiyans, and they were leaving. Raditz thought they could use a few more days planetside. Gohan started flying, well... floating, yesterday and it would be beneficial to train out in the open instead of the confined training area at the space station. But they had their orders to head to base as soon as they completed their mission. Raditz didn’t want to displease Vegeta with tardiness.

"Don't you think it's sad that all those people are dead? That none of them remained?" Gohan asked cautiously.

The question caught Raditz off guard. It was the sort of unexpected question only a cub could come up with. Surely, no adult could think of that. But young ones were notorious for asking surprising, weird questions. At least, that’s what he had heard from adults when he was still just a brat, and what Nappa used to complain about. Kids ask the kind of things that make you wonder how it's even possible to use language like that, if you even knew what they were talking about in the first place.

At least in this case, the sentence was clear enough for Raditz to follow. Gohan wanted Raditz’s opinion about the fate of the inhabitants of the planet they just finished purging. He wanted to know, of all things, if Raditz felt sad about the Landrinians dying out. Why Gohan deemed this information to be important was beyond Raditz.

The question hinted that Gohan felt sad about demise of Landrinians, for some reason. What about them could appear worthwhile to a Saiyan child? Maybe Gohan liked the funny little houses the Landrinians made? They were pretty, shiny and colorful things any cub would like. Without people to maintain them, the remaining buildings that hadn’t been destroyed during the attack would soon fall apart. Maybe Gohan thought Landrinians themselves were funny because they scattered around and squawked, except nothing in the cub’s behaviour had suggested that was the case. The little child may not have understood the Saiyans were never going to visit this planet again, so it wouldn’t matter for them either way. Or maybe he was worried that no one was left to remember whatever heroic deeds Landrinians had accomplished. There couldn’t have been many, in Raditz’s opinion, because they were weak as shit. Was Gohan even old enough to have such thoughts?

"It didn't occur to me to think about it," he admitted after a moment of silence.

Gohan looked at him with a sad, uncertain expression. "Were you ever sad when you... killed everyone?"

What was with these questions? Truth be told, Raditz had been sad, but he had not said it aloud - other Saiyan would surely have made fun of him for that. He remembered one time when he arrived on planet during some sort of festival and the music was so wondrous and soothing he didn't even want to begin to fight. It was a pity that music had to disappear. Another time, they had to purge a planet famous for its cuisine. The three Saiyans even tried some before they kicked into full gear. It was an orgasm in the mouth. What a shame! Or when they had to murder off a species of exceptionally well smelling aliens. He kind of regretted he had to kill them all.

"What do you mean?" Raditz asked instead.

"Like it's a bad thing that they are all gone,” Gohan mumbled.

How one could even understand that? 'Bad' could mean completely different things depending on the context. A bad teammate could still be a good warrior, and a bad warrior could make an okay teammate, at least in some circumstances. Food could taste bad when it was made by a bad cook. A situation could be bad if you were fighting an enemy far stronger than you.. Or if Frieza had it in for you. But none of those meanings seemed to apply.

"Wouldn't it be better if they could stay alive? At least some of them?" Gohan apparently decided he needed to give more explanation.

"'S not something I would worry about.” Raditz shrugged. “But if you ask me, I think it's less cruel to them that way. It would be far worse to leave just a couple of survivors. It's better for them to die quickly than become someone's captive slaves or a part of some fucking sick collection of rare, exotic beings."

"Wouldn't it be better for Saiyans to just die, then?" Gohan hunched over defensively the moment those words left his mouth. He realized too late that couldn't be a safe question to ask.

Raditz narrowed his eyes and gazed intensely at Gohan, but otherwise his face remained impassive and he made no move to chastise Gohan.

"You are very young, so you don't understand. I’ll explain it to you just this once, but don't ever ask this question again.” Raditz paused to collect his thoughts. “We are warriors. We can impress the universe with our power. Old warriors in the Desert said that all life already belongs to death. As warriors, we deal death and we face death - that makes us excellent. That makes us exceptional. When we die, we die. It's over. It doesn't matter when it happens. It would have been fine if we died, but we didn't. A warrior’s death is a kind of death you want, because death in any other way would mean stepping down from the Warriors' path." Raditz looked to see if he still had the cub’s attention. After all, the subject was very difficult - it wasn't something that could be explained by referring to everyday experience.

It turned out that he needn't have worried, though. "All living creatures desire to continue living, but only for warriors is death an obstacle to continuing fighting. But a warrior can earn a legend that lets them fight once more in tales."

Gohan looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Every time the story is told and every time someone recalls a warrior's deeds, that warrior fights again. In contrast, people who resigned themselves to lives of mere servants and only concerned themselves with chores and leisure can't earn a legend."

"But..." Gohan hesitated to find out how Raditz would react to being questioned. Raditz looked at him with attention but without a hint of a frown. Good. That meant it was safe to continue. "You can tell the stories about a cobbler, a carpenter, or an inventor.”

Raditz snorted. "Even if someone tells their stories, as they must be doing to teach their children ways of their people, those people won't be able to take fighting the way warriors do."

"So those stories are not worth being told?" Gohan inquired.

Raditz shrugged. "It's not for me to say. You can tell those stories to teach and to have fun. Fuck it, several noteworthy Saiyans are known for their craft or knowledge on a top of their warrior powers. The point is: those are not the stories worth to be earned. You wouldn’t want to be stuck doing chores for all eternity, would you?"

Gohan thought he’d prefer chores to all the fighting. He doubted Raditz would appreciate this insight on the matter though. "But wouldn't it be better to be good and go to the good place afterwards?"

Afterwards? Gohan must mean after dying. But it brought another question: There was a 'good' place?! Raditz honestly had never heard about something like that. He was familiar with alien stories about traveling to distant, strange worlds after death, but none of them could be described as 'good'. The opposite was true, though. The word 'hell' came to mind.

"You're not going anywhere afterwards," Raditz asserted. "Come on, you've seen plenty of dead bodies. Do they look like they are going anywhere anytime soon? You can only live through legends." Honestly, what was this child thinking? "And even if such a thing was possible, you could just be a good warrior and go to the good place, right?"

Gohan gave Raditz a piercing stare, but quickly averted his gaze.

"Hn?" Raditz grunted.

"It's nothing" Gohan said, but Raditz had a sinking feeling he had missed something.

Instead of continuing the conversation, they went to Raditz's pod.

For the first time, Gohan was awake during takeoff. From orbit, the planet looked peaceful and pristine, as if nothing horrifying happened there at all.

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[the-jade-cross]

A Thousand Years - Chapter 5

“So Kamber was right to assume that something was up with his bloody hand,” Edward whispered.

“What do you mean?” Carlisle inquired.

“Kamber noticed that it almost looked like Jason had touched his wound or scratched himself and his right hand looked different,” Edward remarked. “Jason brought this upon himself… he’s a mutant.”

“What I do not understand is why he is after Edward in particular,” Rosalie spoke up, “Is it because he and Kamber were investigating Bounds?”

Mr. Vicasi shook his head, “It’s because he has the power to ingest powers from vampires. He wants Edward’s telepathic power and his speed.”

“But that means…” Alice whispered. “If he comes after Edward… he might try to go for the kids!”

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Edward replied angrily.

Carlisle smiled and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “We won’t either. I promise that we will protect Kamber and the kids.” They all turned to stare out at the dark woods. Rosalie was staying inside with the kids, leaving everyone else to stand outside and wait for Jason’s arrival.

Then…. They saw it. The sickly evil green eyes glaring at them from the shadows. Slowly Jason Bounds appeared from the shadows and Alice almost vomited. He was twice the size of a normal man, but his skin looked grey, covered in black tar like hair and a thick green ooze was flowing from his mouth.

“I think I preferred Mutants staying in the storybooks,” Jasper whispered to himself.

They watched as Jason Bounds looked them up and down, one by one, inspecting them. Finally, his eyes fell on Edward and a sick smile appeared on his face.

“Cullen,” he hissed in a thick, guttural voice that sounded like it came from the sewers.

Instantly, Esme and Carlisle took a step forward planting themselves a little in front of Edward in a protective manner.

Jason chuckled thickly before rising to his full height, licking his green lips.

“Prepare to die,” he whispered.

The vampires and Mrs. Vicasi jumped forward at the same time. Jasper snuck around the back with Alice to catch him off guard. Mr. Vicasi and Carlisle distracted him while Mrs. Vicasi and Esme went at his sides. Emmett quickly scaled a nearby tree before jumping down onto his shoulders, wrapping his arms around the creature’s neck.

Emmett almost seemed to be getting a grip on the beast when his body seemed to expand and Emmett was thrown off the creature’s back, knocking Alice and Jasper down. Jason grabbed Esme around the neck and Carlisle gave up his position to wrench the beast’s hand off his wife’s neck before Esme fell limp into his arms, exhausted. Mrs. Vicasi jumped at Jason, transforming into her wolf form but Jason gave her a swift punch to the stomach, and she fell down, whimpering in pain. Mr. Vicasi rushed to her side… and now it was just Edward.

Edward clenched his fists and slowly approached the beast. He cracked his knuckles before sliding his foot on the ground, getting good traction…. Then he began to run. He ensured that he ran fast enough so that Jason couldn’t catch him and every few seconds, he struck a blow on the beast.

Jason Bounds was beginning to get angry and finally let out a roar and reached out a hand blindly…. Clotheslining Edward!

The boy fell back onto his back, coughing. Bounds loomed over him before reaching down and pressing a long green nail to Edward’s head.

“You’re mine now,” Bounds growled.

Edward felt the pressure of the finger on his head and closed his eyes, unable to move. It couldn’t end like this…. Not now!

Just when he was sure the nail was going to dig into his skin, the pressure lifted. Edward opened his eyes to see that Bounds was still above him… but floating?

Edward jumped to his feet and saw that his family and the Vicasi parents were staring in surprise as well, their mouths hanging open. Jason Bounds was floating… as if he weighed nothing!

Slowly the Cullens and Vicasi’s turned around to see the answer to what was happening… Kamber. The girl stood on the top step of the stairs, one hand extended and a look of peace and satisfaction on her face. On either side of her stood Vince and Glynn, the other kids standing on the steps in front of her. Rosalie was standing in the doorway, holding Holden and Vanessa with Dashiell and Hermione standing next to her.

“And now….” Kamber whispered. “You’re mine.”

Taking that as a signal, the rest of the Vicasi kids jumped off the stairs, transforming into their different shifts, pouncing on Bounds who had suddenly regained his weight and had fallen to the ground.

Edward felt a presence next to him and saw Kamber fall to her knees next to him, helping him sit up. The boy looked from her, to where her siblings were overpowering Bounds.

“What… is going on?” he whispered.

Kamber smiled, “My vampire power….” With that, she placed her hand on the ground and Edward watched in shock as the rocks on the driveway began to slowly float in the air.

“Warping Balance,” she replied, “Or otherwise known as gravity control.” Edward stared at the girl with his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyes wide. Kamber smiled at him before grabbing his face and crashing her lips to his.

Edward realized that even though her lips still contained warmth, she seemed stronger than before…. And almost… more prefect if that was possible.

Edward was about to kiss back when Kamber tore away and pulled him up. By then, Vince and Glynn had pinned Bounds down, Imogen sitting on his back with a proud smug look on her face.

“Mission accomplished,” the two boys grinned.

Kamber raised her eyebrows while looking at Imogen who didn’t have a single mark on her, “What’s up with you?” “Damage resistant,” the girl replied simply, smirking, “Life is good!”

Carlisle and Mr. Vicasi approached the mutant before Carlisle injected him with a strong dose of a sedative. Once limp, the two men lifted the beast up between them and hurried off to see that he reached prison. The Vicasi kids were running around, giggling with Alice and wrestling Emmett to the ground. Mrs. Vicasi was trying desperately to talk to each individually but was failing for the kids were too energetic and excited.

Kamber chuckled at this but didn’t have time to do much about it for someone grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the back of the house. Before Kamber could even ask Edward what he was doing, the boy had pressed her to the nearest tree and crashed his lips onto hers. Kamber at once responded, wrapping her hands around his neck and weaving her fingers into his hair.

Edward touched her bottom lip with her tongue, and she allowed him, feeling his ice-cold tongue explore her mouth. She moaned when Edward pressed his body hard against hers and lifted one of her legs up to wrap around his waist. His ice-cold fingers touched her thigh before circling around her waist again.

Finally, they parted when Kamber finally needed air and Edward latched his lips onto her neck, inhaling her scent.

“Edward,” Kamber whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Edward sighed before pausing, “I was scared….” Kamber smiled and gently stroked his hair fondly before kissing the side of his head as he began to kiss her shoulder, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Edward groaned into her neck and hugged her close so that she almost felt her ribs crack, “Why can’t I marry you right now?” “Uh, I think the earliest we could do it is next week.” Edward’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with hope, “Really?” Kamber giggled, “Impatient much?”

However, she loved him for it and kissed him gently before burying her face in his neck, sighing deeply, “Everything will be alright from now on.”

***********

Edward was impatiently pacing back and forth in front of the alter, his hands clasped behind his back. Jasper and Emmett noticed this, smirking at each other knowingly.

“Go easy there hot shot,” Emmett remarked, looking very smart in his black suit, “She’s not going to run out on you.” “Unless you scare her half to death,” Jasper added.

Edward snapped a glare in their direction and his two brothers retreated, leaving him to his pacing. Suddenly Mr. Vicasi approached him, and Edward froze in his pacing.

“Edward, I just want to say that I am glad you and Kamber found each other,” he said. “I have not seen Kamber this happy in all her many years.” Edward smiled at the man and nodded, “Thank you sir.” “I will say one thing,” the man replied, surprising Edward. “Kamber is not full vampire, so she is not resilient to pain if you get my drift.” Edward paused before it suddenly dawned on him that Mr. Vicasi was talking about what would come from marriage and he felt his neck heat up. “I understand sir.” The man smiled before clapping him on the shoulder, “If you will excuse me, I have to go locate my daughter before my wife and her sisters smother her to death.” With that, the vampire headed off and Edward resumed his pacing. He was halfway through a pace when he almost collided with Carlisle who had appeared behind him.

“Can we have a moment?” Carlisle asked, a serious look on his face.

Edward nodded before stepping to the side with Carlisle to a place where no one could hear their conversation. Instead of talking, Carlisle began to think, and Edward read his thoughts.

‘Edward, there is something you need to be careful of tonight with Kamber.’

“What is it?” Edward asked in a whisper.

‘Because Kamber is a hybrid, she is attractive by her scent but also because of her beauty from being part vampire. All of this put together makes her ten times as attractive to her mate than she would be if she was a human or a vampire.’

“What does that mean?”

‘It basically means that tonight when you and Kamber are married, your vampire thirst will change. You will gain a new thirst…. Not for blood but for physical contact with Kamber. It happens because you are now bound to Kamber, thus being allowed to be intimate with her. However, because she is a hybrid, the lust you would feel if she was pure vampire or human is ten times stronger…. A thirst. A thirst for intimacy with her. It will get easier just as it got easier for you to handle being around humans. However, the first time will always be stronger…. So….’

“Basically, I will become an animal tonight,” Edward whispered back, knowing he was going more pale than pale.

Carlisle nodded. ‘Kamber is strong, thanks to her werewolf and vampire heritage but she is more human than we are… and just as Mr. Vicasi said, she can feel pain. You have to be careful. The first time you will have intimacy with Kamber it will become like you are an alpha in heat. You will become crazed and nothing will stop you until you are satisfied.’

Carlisle placed his hands on his son’s shoulders and looked her square in the eye, ‘I already told Kamber about this. She is prepared… but you have to make a choice to either not be intimate with her until the thirst fades…. Or have her bear through the thirst until you are satisfied then it will be easier to control.” Edward ran his fingers over his face and through his hair, “I’m such a pervert.” Carlisle chuckled. “That has nothing to do with it. Every man has the desires to be intimate with his future bride when the time comes, but since you are a vampire and she is a hybrid, the crossing hormones are just a million times stronger…” “A million times?” Edward asked.

The man cringed, “You heard that…. I might have exaggerated.” “You never exaggerate,” Edward replied with a deadpan expression. “Oh, this is bad….” “Don’t think about it now,” Carlisle whispered. “You and Kamber discuss it later at the island. Right now, worry about your wedding.”

********

"Excited?" Alice asked, smirking at Kamber.

Of course, the girl missed the smirk but the tone of her voice told her she was smirking. Alice still had a brush in her hand, waiting for Kamber to come out from where she was getting into the gown.

"Do I look excited?" Kamber asked back.

"So you're not!?" Alice teased.

The door of her room flew open, whacking Alice in the back of the head as Kamber’s mother and Rosalie entered, "Of course I'm excited! I'm so excited I'm nervous!"

Alice smirked but the smirk disappeared to a look of shock when Kamber came out from the changing room.

The white gown she was wearing came to the floor, concealing her cute white shoes. The train of the dress trailed behind her, not a great deal but enough.

Her hair was mostly down except for the thick braid that made a crown around her head.

"You look amazing Sweetie," Mrs. Vicasi said, smiling fondly at her daughter with tears in her eyes.

Kamber smiled and blushed crimson as her father entered the room. The man gave her a long look before a smile appeared on his face. He held out his arm to her and Kamber took it and took a deep breath as he slowly led her down the stairs to the patio.

When they reached the spot that separated them from everyone else, Kamber found Glynn, Vince, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper standing there. Rosalie was grinning from ear to ear and handing her handkerchief (that she didn't need) to Emmett who was crying as if he was the mother of the bride. Jasper was beaming at her and Vince and Glynn were smiling.

Mr. Vicasi released Kamber long enough for her to give each of them a hug.

"You're a sight Emmett," Alice pointed out, grinning at her brother.

Emmett sniffed and smiled, "Don't judge."

"You should get going," Glynn pointed out, "In case you didn't know by now, Edward isn’t exactly a patient vampire."

Kamber and Alice both chuckled at this and Mr. Vicasi wrapped Kamber's slender hand through his arm again. Kamber heard the ruffling of clothes and chairs as people rose to their feet. She slowly lifted her head and gasped.

The patio was decorated with an abundant amount of white and pale blue flowers. When Esme had asked Kamber about decorations, the girl had refused to add ribbons or bright colors so Esme just stuck with pretty wildflowers and woven wooden and green decorations.

Kamber lifted her eyes and smiled at the sight directly opposite her. Standing at the alter was Carlisle (why Esme asked him to do the ceremony, Edward and Kamber would never know) who was dressed in a clean black suit. On either side of the alter stood the whole company, in their best and beaming. Half of them, especially Imogen, Antigone and Zayne were weeping.

Edward stood slightly in front of Carlisle; his hands clasped behind his back. The girl found herself smiling at how perfect he looked. He was wearing a black suit that was slightly blue, so it stood out from the rest of the guys who wore black. His hair was brushed but still thick and wavy. His face was scrubbed clean and surprisingly, he had some color in his face which to him, was because he was blushing brightly but because of his pale nature, it only looked like he was naturally fair.

Mr. Vicasi patted the girl's hand as he led her down the aisle and directly to Edward. Mr. Vicasi of course had never done this before, so he was going to make the best of it. He kissed Kamber on the cheek before turning to Edward and faking seriousness.

"You take good care of her,"

Edward smiled which finally broke the fake seriousness on Mr. Vicasi's face and the man smiled before shaking Edward’s hand and placing Kamber’s in it before stepping back.

Edward reached out and took Kamber's hands in his, encasing her slender hands in his strong cold ones. His eyes never left hers as he drew her onto the alter and in front of him. Carlisle sauntered over, a huge grin on his face and the ceremony began.

(I honestly never remember what goes on during a wedding so just pretend it is similar to the one in the movie:))

"You make kiss the bride," Carlisle announced.

Without hesitation, Edward reached over and cupping the back of her neck in his hand, he drew her lips to his and kissed her long and thoroughly. The place erupted in a din of cheers, wolf whistles and screams of joy. Of course, most of the noise was coming from the company (99% of that coming from Emmett and Alice).

Edward pressed his forehead to hers and smiled.

"I love you Kamber Vicasi."

Kamber smiled and closed her eyes, "And I love you, Edward Cullen."

(EXPLICIT SCENE AHEAD!!!!!)

Edward sighed as he looked across the boat’s deck to where Kamber was sitting on the side of the boat, looking down at the racing dark water below them. They were almost to the island and Edward knew that the urges that he had been feeling all day were going to erupt. It had been bad enough during the wedding and the ceremony but after Kamber had come out wearing a slim white dress that came to her knees, Edward almost lost it.

Looking over at her, he saw that when she sat down, the dress rode up a bit on her thigh and Edward swallowed, turning to look away. He was not going to become an animal in front of Kamber. He would do anything to keep himself from jumping her like an animal, but it was getting harder the closer and closer they got to the island.

Finally, the ship docked and Kamber jumped to her feet. Taking Edward’s hand, she pulled him off the boat and up to the house. When they stepped inside, Edward dropped their bags off in the front room before wrapping his arms around the girl from behind.

Kamber giggled, hugging his hands to her chest as Edward planting a kiss on her neck. He felt her scent fill his breathing and he forced himself to not take her then and there.

He quickly scooped her up bridal style before carrying her through the door that connected to the bedroom. Kamber looked around in astonishment at the bedroom that was lit with soft yellow light.

“Is this your place or….” “It’s Carlisle’s,” Edward replied.

Kamber smirked, “He has good taste.”

The girl removed her heels and let out a contented sigh when she was able to relax her feet. Edward peered out the window at the water before turning to Kamber.

“I’m going for a swim. Want to come?” Kamber nodded her head vigorously before grabbing two towels and allowing Edward to take her hand. He led her out onto the sand where they left their towels. Edward stripped down to his boxers before entering the water while Kamber stripped to her underwear before following.

Kamber shivered at the cold water but she didn’t mind as she watched Edward swim around for a bit. As he swam up to her, Kamber slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Edward clung to her as he felt her legs wrap around his waist.

He quickly pulled back and swam further away from her. The girl looked at him slightly hurt and confused.

“Edward…. Are you afraid?” she asked softly.

“Of course, I am!” Edward cried. “Kamber, you don’t realize what kind of beast I could become if I get too near you. It’s bad enough being this close to you.” Kamber sighed, “You do realize that even if you wait eighty years to do it, the first time will be animal like.” Edward snapped his head up, eyes wide, “What? Carlisle said….” “I asked Carlisle to not tell you that part,” Kamber explained. “I wanted to be the one to tell you when I tell you that I’m not afraid.” “But Kamber….” Edward started when he froze, “You what?” “I’m not afraid,” Kamber replied, smiling softly at him. “You are afraid of yourself because you already thought of yourself as a beast without a soul, right?” Edward nodded, “Because it’s true.” Kamber snorted. “Okay, answer these two questions: If a man killed a woman for no reason, or he killed her because she refused to obey him, would that be right or wrong?” “Wrong of course,” Edward replied, not knowing where the girl was getting at.

Kamber nodded, “Okay. Now if the woman killed the man in self-defense because he would either kill her or rape her otherwise, would that be right or wrong?” “Right,” Edward replied. “Because it was self-defense.” The girl didn’t do anything but smiled brightly at him, “So you know the difference between right or wrong correct?” Edward nodded. The girl slowly swam over to him before she wrapped her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his hips, “So that means you do have a soul. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t know the difference between right or wrong.” “But my thirst…” Edward started but Kamber cut him off by placing a finger to his lips.

“Every man has a thirst for the woman he loves. In our case, because we are supernatural, it is stronger…. But Edward, if every other human was vampires, werewolves or hybrids, every woman would experience her husband being an animal the first time and every man would experience what it feels like to be in heat.” Edward stared up at her with his bright amber eyes. The girl was smiling down at him, the moonlight shining against her blue eyes, her red hair slightly damp and splattered with drops of water that clung to her hair, making it look like her hair was full of stars.

Slowly the girl bent down and latched her lips against his gently, allowing him to feel the warmth of her mouth on his cold lips.

Edward’s arms snaked around her back and pulled her flush against him as he slowly carried her out of the water. He laid her down on the hard sand and watched as her red hair billowed behind her head on the sand as she looked up at him, in nothing but her underwear which were now practically see through because of the water.

Edward got down on his hands and knees over her, his eyes darkening.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered. “You do realize that if I start, I won’t be able to stop until I’m satisfied.” Kamber nodded, “I know.” Edward carefully hooked his fingers in her underwear before pulling them down and off her legs. As he tossed them to the side, he planted a kiss on her lips before trailing his ice-cold lips down her neck and leaving a hot red mark on her collar bone. Kamber let out a soft gasp as his mouth continued its journey down her chest, her stomach and finally between her legs. Kamber sat up straight when his lips touched the inside of her thighs and planted two hot marks on either one.

Edward glanced up at her before he slipped his head between her legs and latched his lips on her maidenhood. Kamber gasped and fell back on the sand, arching her back at the cold feeling on her soft place. She clenched the sand between her fingers and pressed the back of her head into the sand, letting out a moan.

Suddenly Edward removed his mouth from her and looked at her. All the color had left his eyes which were now black with want…. Beast mode.

Edward tore his boxers off faster than Kamber could comprehend before he crawled over her, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist. His manhood touched between her legs before he plunged into her all the way to the hilt.

Kamber gasped and clutched at him, burying her face into his neck at the suddenly sharp pain. She bit her lip, glad about her vampire blood that it wasn’t as bad as it would have been if she was human. Edward however didn’t stay still for long and began to plunge into her fast and hard to the point where Kamber felt the sand grinding into her back from the pressure.

“Edward….” She gasped, “Go slower!” Edward didn’t seem to hear her as he continued to pound into her until Kamber felt dizzy when he suddenly stopped. Kamber felt a warm feeling fill her insides and she sighed, sinking onto the sand. Edward removed himself from her before bending down and picking the girl off the sand. He carried her back inside before laying her in the bathtub. She realized she was covered in sand and didn’t protest as Edward turned on the warm water and plugged the drain. She was surprised though when he climbed in after her before pulling her toward him.

Kamber suddenly realized that he still was in beast mode as he hastily tore her bra off and tossed it onto the floor. As the water began to fill up the tub, Edward pulled her toward him before setting her on his lap. Kamber felt his hard self against her thigh and felt her face flush when he stared at her with darkened eyes.

Slowly Edward lifted her up until he was positioned at her entrance before he pushed her hips down, slamming himself up into her. Kamber gasped but this time not in pain as Edward gripped her hips tightly, probably leaving finger marks behind.

Kamber placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her head to his as Edward lifted and then pushed her hips down, no longer slow but at a pace that seemed almost impossible.

Kamber felt herself climaxing when it suddenly dawned on her that Edward hadn’t climaxed earlier. Was that what it meant for him to be satisfied? That he had to climax? So, the sooner he climaxed, the sooner he was out of beast mode.

Edward slammed into her one more time before Kamber felt herself release around him, sinking against him. Edward didn’t stay in the water long. Just long enough to wash the sand off both of them before he lifted Kamber out and began to dry her.

When Kamber finished drying, Edward gripped her by the hips and lifted her up till her legs wrapped around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall hard before he entered her without waiting. Kamber cried out in pleasure as he began to enter her hard and fast, his hands on her hips and her legs around his waist.

“Edward….” She gasped, pressing her face into his neck.

She never got to finish for Edward speed ran to the bedroom and threw her onto the bed. Kamber bounced at the impact before Edward climbed on top of her and entered her again. It felt like they were there for hours, Edward never once wavering in his fast pace. Kamber was beginning to get tired and could no longer keep her legs wrapped around his waist.

Finally, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his ear, “Edward…. I love you.” She didn’t know where it came from, but it felt like Edward got larger inside of her! She felt him begin to vibrate inside of her and she realized what was coming. Edward picked up his pace until he finally drove into her hard and released.

Kamber fell back, completely wasted and not caring that she was bare to Edward’s view. Edward panted as he slowly slipped out of her before looking down at her with his usual eyes, no longer a beast. Kamber was on the verge of falling asleep, her arms and legs exhausted and laying limp on the bed. Her stomach was a pinkish color from where he had driven into her mercilessly and there were handprints on her hips and thighs.

What shocked him was that her body was covered in bright red marks where he had marked her as his.

“Oh Kamber,” he whispered, bending over her to kiss each of the red-hot marks, “Love I’m so sorry.” Kamber opened her eyes when she felt him kiss the marks that littered her chest and her waist. She weakly reached down and pulled him up before laying down next to him, curling up against his chest. She planted a kiss on his lips before nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered. “it was wonderful.”

With that, she fell into a deep dreamless sleep and Edward found himself laying there, watching her sleeping with a huge smile on his face.

[angeleyesgilly]

↬ Promise Part 2.

● Setting: Henderson Asylum, 2014.

● ❝Take my hand and we'll be fine. Promise I won't let you down.❞

● Trigger Warnings: Near death of a child, mentions of torture and sexual assault.

Kidnapped.

Kidnapped.

The word kept playing through her head. It hadn’t stopped since she’d been told by Bel’s guard friend. She’d spoken it out loud, letting it roll of her tongue in a mix of slow or fast paced speech, hoping somehow that maybe it would help her understand or come to terms with it better. She’d said it other ways too, spelled them out in her head. She felt like a thesaurus at this rate. None of it helped though. None of it changed the fact that she had failed.

She’d failed again. First she’d left Katie. She’d went out for coffee instead of staying around to protect one of the few people who meant the world to her. She was often told she couldn’t have known, but she did know. She too had been at the end of her step-mother’s striking hand, and she should have known. And now Lola. The sweet, innocent and pure child she’d sworn to protect no matter the cost. Yet the price was different than she had thought.

She had been sure that giving up Lola, letting her live a normal life in the human world instead of the supernatural world was right. Gillian had been certain of it. She knew her sister deserved a normal life, so she’d left her behind. She thought the price to pay for the Lola’s safety was her own discontent. But it was clear now, she’d made the wrong choice. Lola had been kidnapped, and she knew full well it never would have happened if she had simply been there.

And now she was paying it with a misery like no other. The misery of knowing that something, anything could be happening to Lola in the moment. And the crushing weight of the guilt that she hadn’t done something while she could. She’d spent the majority of the last few days stalking along the asylum border. Pacing back and forth, trying anything to find a weak spot in the fence or the spell itself. Scorched pink blisters formed on her skin from the odd, weaponized dark magic in the gate. But she didn’t care, they’d heal eventually. The hole in her chest that would surely remain if she failed to find a way to save Lola surely never would.

Once more, agony radiating through her hands as she pressed and pushed at the gates. She grit her teeth, hissing slightly at the pain. Tears burned in her eyes as she tried to push with both the added physical strength and the blow of her powers. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It didn’t budge. It hadn’t budged at all over the last few days, but she hadn’t stopped trying.

Hearing what sounded like the sizzling of water meeting grease, she pulled back, glancing down at her hands. They were sore and raw looking. Blisters bubbled, some popped to expose oozing liquid and crimson blood. She knew she had to stop. If she kept this up she’d drain herself silly. She shook her head stubbornly, ready to press her hands back up against the fencing for a take two. She’d already tried to go for the point where the fence had stopped. While the barrier didn’t scorch her hands in such a torturous way, it didn’t let up at all.

For once she was controlled not by her kind nature, but by her maternal nature, the deep rooted instincts to protect Lola. She knew she would do anything to do it. Whatever it meant in those moments, she would handle it. If it meant Lola’s safety she knew she would take every risk, even if it meant sacrificing herself to save the child. Deciding to shake it up, she stepped back a few paces and darted at the gate, colliding with it shoulder first. The material of her dress guarded her from the horrid burning, but an aching sort fanned through her shoulder from the collision.

“That won’t help you,” it was a man’s voice, a very familiar man’s voice. The voice sent shivers down Gillian’s spine, calling every nerve ending to attention. Her anxiety swelled and terror slinked through her veins, freezing her in place. She’d heard the voice many times, too many times. Heard him speak to her while he hurt her, while his medical tools had invaded her body. Her torturer.

The fear kept her frozen, but the different kind of anxiety – the protective kind that was white hot with animal instinct to protect and defend as opposed to freezing cold like the fear – rose up inside of her. It allowed her to battle some of the ice in her veins so she could turn to face him. The look on her face must have been scary to say the least. She was often decorated with a warm smile, and even when she’d been under his knife, she’d never been vicious, never been so hard. But his face paled a little before he got a hold of himself.

“You won’t get out, you’re not strong enough,” he was definitely cocky about that.

“Then let me out,” she retorted simply, the tone in her voice surprising her.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for out there,” he said. She stiffened once more. What did he know of what she was looking for? She’d been careful. She hadn’t mentioned Lola before. Surely Colin hadn’t spoken of it, had he?

“What is it you think I’m looking for?” She held her ground. It wasn’t easy. She didn’t like the approach she’d had to take. Sure she’d tried kindness before, and it had never worked with this man, but it didn’t feel any better to stoop to this coldness. But if it got her to Lola.

“Your sister.” He replied simply, his voice nonchalant as if he was discussing what he would eat for supper.In a second, she was in front of him. She wasn’t sure if she’d materialized or run. But the mention of Lola, it had drawn her in immediately. She didn’t even think about how she’d gotten there. “What do you know?”

“I know that though you try, you’re still weak little angel,” he said with obviously feigned sympathy. She felt it once more, a sharp pain in her side. She glanced down to see what had caused it, but she already knew. He’d fooled her somehow, tricked her. He had used her weakness to get her over, to get her close. He’d waited till her defenses had dropped long enough to get her. She stated fading rather quickly, and soon enough unconsciousness claimed her.

~~

“Time to wake up little angel,” she blinked once, twice. It didn’t help much. It was dark. Even with her angelic sight, she had trouble seeing. The familiar damp, moldy scent reached her nose and she realized rather quickly she was in her old space. She waited for it, for the ache and agony of her body, for some sort of protest to show that she’d been hurt somehow. She didn’t feel anything though. Her hands felt odd, like they were buzzing with a current, but maybe that was just their healing from the torture she’d put them through in trying to pointlessly knock down the gates.

“Come on now, you don’t want a special wake up call, do you?” Memories of torture and terrors filled her mind. The feeling of brutal agony gripping her, no matter where the central source was. Over and over. She tried to shake herself out of it, but her body was being attack on all side by her senses. The familiar scents, sights, the feeling of crumbled rocks under her body, her mind immediately associated those with her torture. It was hard to pull herself away from her trauma on the usual day, but surrounded by one of the places it had been born certainly didn’t help.

Pressing her hand on her stomach, she easily found the jagged, risen lump that was the scar of her stab wound. It was a reminder for her, that she wasn’t in the danger anymore, that it was over, not healed completely, but not still open and exposed. It had become a stress relief when it came to memories of her torture too.

“That’s a girl,” the voice was amused, to say the least.

“What do you want?” Her voice came cracked, tired. She could still feel the weight of whatever they’d dosed her with in her system.

“Well, I have a proposition for you little angel.” The voice was laced with a smugness. She didn’t like the way he called her “little angel” it reminded her too much of her father, what he used to call her before he died. She didn’t like the way the new voice said it with a twisted cruelty. “Now you see, usually I wouldn’t make a deal with /your/ kind,” his voice showed clear disdain, and he knew he didn’t just mean the angels. “But I see a unique opportunity here. There’s only so much we can learn by cutting you open and pulling your insides to the outside. We can do that over, and over, and over again,” there was definitely a sick pleasure in his voice. He was enjoying it. “But I can’t learn much of your powers, of what you can do if you aren’t willing to cooperate.”

She pressed her lips together, trying to control her mind and the ugly rearing monster that was her anxiety and terror. Gillian remained silent, locked in a silent battle in her mind.

“Now last night we caught ourselves a vampire, he was new. You know those monsters can’t control their thirst,” disgust and disdain, but also that pleasure, as if he was glad the “monster” couldn’t control itself because it gave him a chance to attack. “He had attacked this child, little girl only a couple years old. Barely old enough to have lived life really.”

She stiffened. With Lola fresh on her mind, the idea of some other poor child being hurt by a vampire made her uncomfortable, pained. She didn’t respond yet though, stayed quiet as her fingers massaged the spot where her stomach was scarred through the material of the dress she wore. The blonde angel waited for him to continue with his ravings.

“Luckily we go there in time so she didn’t die,” he noted, seeming proud of himself. As if he deserved a badge of honor for one small action, as if it made up for all his atrocities. “But you see, she’s not doing so well. She needs help. Help that we cannot offer,” more disdain in her voice. He didn’t like admitting weakness, especially to a creature he seemed to hate so much. She quickly caught onto what he wanted. He wanted her to heal the child they’d rescued.

“You want me to heal her,” she spoke carefully, sitting up a little from her slumped position. It was in reaching out with her free hand to prop herself up that she realized she was in a cell of sorts, her hand brushing the bottle row of the bars. She knew the deal would be a poor one, whatever he offered her, if he even offered anything to heal the child would be poor. But she also knew she would help, even if she ended up back on the table to be tortured in the end.

“You’re not as dumb as you appear.”

“If you let me go…I’ll heal her,” even her attempt at bargaining was only half-way. The words sounded unnatural, and there was a false note attributed to them that even she could immediately recognize. A laugh sounded in the darkness. A familiar, amused laugh that she had always thought bordered somewhere on the edge of insanity.

“We’ll discuss your payment later,” he said with amusement. Hearing the jingling sound of keys, she realized that he truly did have her figured out. She didn’t like that, it unsettled her. A little dizzy still from the drug they’d dosed her with, she stood up, making her way in the direction of where the jingling had sounded from. She was a little off, but with her hands extending she managed to pat her way to the exit.

A rough hand gripped her arm, leading her off. It was odd how a touch could seem both reluctant and careful but at the same time harsh and absolute. She let the guiding drag her around, terror of the situation still coursing through her veins. Eventually she was led to a much cleaner, more pristine room. It was lit up, and looked out of place compared to where she’d just been.

Slowly she stepped through, being pulled along by the hand. She had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the bright lights – fluorescents like at the hospital – after being in the dark for so long. It was blinding, causing her eyes to protest for a second. Rather quickly her eyes adjusted, and she had time to take a look around the room. It was empty. She looked over at her torturer in confusion, fear lighting her features. Could it all have been some lure?

Seeing the sparkle of amusement in his eyes, she prepared to run. But his hand dragged her forward to the window of sorts on the other side of the room. Reluctantly, her limbs bound and quivering with fear, she followed. When she got within eyeshot of the window, able to see through the pane of glass, something new darted through her body. It was a mix of that terrible anxiety, her instinctive desire to protect and the burning maternal love she felt.

It had to be a dream. Surely.

A nightmare maybe.In the room there was a simple doctor’s table and machine’s surrounding it. But on that table, laying calmly, too calmly was a child. A young girl, who looked as if she couldn’t be older than six years old. Blonde curls graced the crown of her hair, flowing with the pale sunlit nature that Gillian knew so well. The skin was pale, too pale, sickly pale. The calm serenity of the features was still there, the very same this child had possessed since a young age.

Lola.

Gillian practically battered against the glass, ready to slam right through it. She didn’t even feel the impact as she collided. Though her body quickly rebounded. Some kind of extra strength pane. She hadn’t even left a crack in it. She was about to target the door next when that hand on her arm gripped her tighter. It didn’t really hurt, but she didn’t like the way it felt.

“Ah ah,” the voice shamed her. “You agree to help us, to work with us and we’ll let you help her, let her stay her. You don’t…” he trailed off, no doubt for the dramatic effect. “And well, our systems might just power down for a couple minutes…just long enough for those machines keeping her alive to turn off.” It took everything in her not to completely lose it. The only thing that tethered her to her sanity was knowing she’d be helpless to help Lola without him somehow letting her through. Surely everything was supernatural proof.

“Fine,” she said it. She was already making her way towards the door. She was practically rocking on the balls of her feet while she waited. When it was unlocked, she stormed in, heading right for the bed. She wasted no time. “Lola,” she whispered solemnly, holding out her hand’s over Lola’s stilled body. She closed her eyes reluctantly, scared that when she opened them the girl might be gone. Focusing, she summoned her power within herself, building and nourishing it. The power was warm, like sunlight, like everything good in the world wrapped into a feeling. She cast it out, channeling it out through the palms of her hands. The machine’s beeping picked up and she immediately opened her eyes, watching the child intently.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed. Seconds. Minutes. Hours maybe. All that mattered was the child, and keeping her safe. She didn’t care about the fear in those moments, all that mattered was Lola, keeping her safe. Nobody interrupted them. That surprised her, but she didn’t think too much of it. Finally, she noticed the twitch of Lola’s small hand. Alert as ever, Gillian glanced to the fact of the child. “Lola?” She asked gently. Gillian watched as Lola’s brown eyes fluttered open. At first there seemed to be an alarm in them, but when they fell on Gilly there was a mix of both excitement and fear.

“Gilly?” Gillian felt her eyes watering. She never thought she’d get to hear the voice of the child again, never hear that little nickname. Her hand found Lola’s smaller one, taking it in hers.

“I’m here pumpkin, I’m here,” she said, offering her a real, honest grin.

She felt the tiny hand squeeze hers. But then fear seemed to come back into Lola’s eyes again. Gillian heard the machine beeping louder. Lola’s heart rate was speeding up. “Gilly there was a bad man,” the child hiccupped. “He bit me,” Lola had begun to cry. In a matter of seconds, Gillian scooped her up as if she was still that small baby, cradling her.

“Sh sh sh,” she whispered soothingly, rocking herself a little so the soothing motion would hopefully calm Lola. “It’s alright baby doll, it’s alright, I’m here,” she told her gently. The small child was still sobbing, still shaking, but she seemed to calm down a little.

“What if he comes back?” Lola’s quivering voice asked, an innocence, fear and vulnerability obvious in it.

“I’m going to keep you safe,” Gillian whispered gently, and she meant it. She would keep her safe. “Whatever it takes,” it was the same promise she had made the day Lola had been born. This time though, her promise was falling onto ears that understood what it meant.

“But what if you go away again?” That seemed to upset Lola more. The poor child was likely confused. Gillian didn’t blame her. She would try her best to explain it eventually, but right now comforting the child was more important.

“I’m never going away again, okay pumpkin? Never again,” she swore it, every word laced with conviction.

“Promise?” Lola’s voice wavered once more.Gillian didn’t hesitate with her answer. “I promise.”

[alice-the-white-rabbit]

Plaguetale Prologue “Dr. Gaster?...” A feminine rabbit monster poked her head in from the hall. She was looking for a tall skeleton wearing a lab coat. Searching high and low throughout the hospital, the rabbit finally found him. The doctor was in a lab looking through a microscope at sample of a white soul. “Dr. Gaster, there you are. Your son Papyrus is here and asking to see his brother. Should I cloak him in the quarantine spell?” the rabbit monster asked. The doctor barely move, so focused was he on the sample he was looking at. The soul twitched.  “Ahh…. Dr. Gaster…?” She said, inching closer to the skeleton in doctor’s clothing. “Doctor?” “” (“Ms. Furson. Have a look at this.”) The rabbit nurse looked into the microscope once the doctor moved over. What she saw terrified her. A worm-like creature was weaving through the soul, like razor wire being sewn into an apple. The borrowing was making the soul look like swiss cheese. The nurse ran over to a trash can and emptied the contents of her stomach.  Though, the sight through the microscope was disturbing, the Doctor just shook his head in disappointment at the reaction. Knowing his nurse had a weak stomach was not a good thing. Seeing a parasite feeding on a soul would shake most to their core, but as there was a second Human-Monster War, it would cripple the war effort. He had to found a cure soon, or monster kind would lose again.  “Doctor.” Ms. Furson said. The skeleton turned his attention to the female monster. “” (“Yes…”)  “Your son Papyrus is here and wants to see Sans. Should I cloak him in the quarantine spell and let him?” The nurse’s voice was a little shaky. “” (“No, I’ll take Papyrus to see his brother. I want you to check on the other patient in quarantine.”) Gaster walked out of the room without listening to the nurse’s reply. Thoughts of his ill son were worrying him. Sans was not the strongest one in the family, but so far he’s lasted the longest. The doctor should have been happy that his son was still alive, but, the fact that eldest son may fall into a comma then die, was a freighting thing.  This parasite feeds on the monster’s soul, first causing fever, discomfort and headache, then insomnia and hallucinations. Once Sans mistook Papyrus for himself. The last stage that caused death is loss of consciousness, leading to death. The symptom that worried him most appeared in the first stage: foaming at the mouth, followed by an insatiable biting habit. This was the dead giveaway that the patient had been infected. Gaster push that thought away as he entered the waiting room. Papyrus, a young skeleton, jumped up from his seat, ran to his father, and gave him a hug. “” (“Hello, Papyrus. How was school?”) the Doctor asked in a soft tone, as he led the child to quarantine. “I was good. Undyne beat up the bullies that were picking on me.” The young skeleton’s voice saddened. “She got into trouble for it. It is my fault she’s in trouble.” Before entering the quarantine area, Dr. Gaster knelt to meet his youngest at eye level. “” (“Look Papyrus. It is not your fault, if it is anyone’s fault it is the bullies. Do you understand?”) The tall skeleton tone was calm and stern.  The younger skeleton nodded as his father placed the quarantine cloaking spell on the two of them.  Dr. Gaster then stood up and led his son into quarantine. They traveled down the hall and up one floor, passing nurses, tool tables and other rooms. He began to think about how crowded the quarantines wing was becoming. If they had anymore parasite cases, they would have to add another floor.  The two skeletons stopped at the third door on the right, a room numbered Q205.  Once inside Papyrus bolted over to his older brother’s bedside. “Sans!” the little skeleton squeaked, looking at the tired young skeleton laying on the bed. The two skeletons children talk about Papyrus’ day a school, Gaster stared at his two sons as they talked, and worried. Sans looked weaker than he had the day before. The IV connected to his soul through the collar of the hospital gown he wares. There was a blue blush on his cheek bones signaling he had a fever, bags under his eye sockets, and saliva running down his chin.  The tall skeleton walked over to his son’s bed. “” (“How are you feeling today?”) he asked interrupting the conversion his sons were having.  Sans glared at his father and stayed silent.  “” (“Come now, Sans. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything.”) “I feel hot and dizzy.” The eldest son huffed, looking away.  “” (“See; that wasn’t so hard. Why are you making this so hard?”) Gaster knew the answer, but, he wanted to hear it from his son. Sans’ head whipped around to face his Dad, anger making his left eye glow a cyan blue with wisps of energy moving like a flame in a breeze. “You never come to visit, or check up on me yourself, unless Papyrus is here! You never tell me if I’m going to be alright! You always send a nurse or other doctor!” the young skeleton hissed, drops of saliva spraying as he spoke. Gaster said nothing, his eldest son was right.  “You’re always busy with your work! You know that I!….” Sans cut himself off. He didn’t want Papyrus to hear about the possible of him dying.  For the rest of the visit, Gaster stayed quiet. Once Papyrus had been sent home with a babysitter, Gaster returned to work. For the next few weeks the doctor redoubled his efforts towards a cure and made time to visit his son every once in a while. Not that Sans cared at first, but lowly, overtime Sans opened up to his father. The visits seemed to help Sans a bit. One day, Gaster had completed a prototype of what he hoped was the cure. The skeleton doctor tested it on the infected soul sample, and in a day, the parasite completely disappeared. He felt pride because of the results, but, waited a few more days just to make sure it really worked.  The day came, Gaster was going to give his son the first dose through the IV. Walking down the hall he noticed that some of the patients were missing. The quarantine section was completely quiet. It was disturbing. As he ascended the stairs to room Q205 a nurse bumped into him. She was in a panic.  “Doctor! It’s your son! He’s fallen into a comma!” The nurse’s voice cracked as she said this.  Gaster wasted no time running up the stairs. Fear over whelmed his mind and made it hard to breathe. The thing about the coma stage in that it is a sign that the soul is about to shatter. The thought of his son meeting that fate filled him with determination. He pushed passed a shocked group of nurses and into the room. Inside, Sans looked weaker than ever. Foamy saliva spilled from his mouth.  Gaster thought about administering a dose through the IV, but, realized it would not help his first son fast enough. He removed the upper part of the hospital gown exposing his son’s rib cage. This aloud the skeleton doctor to see the upside down white soul. The was covered in red cracks and around the crack were a dark pink like a rash on human skin. Gaster mind raced, running through his options. The test showed that small doses were best, a large dose ran the high risk of shattering instantly, but had no other option and time was running out. He injected the experimental cure straight into Sans’ soul. The boy went into shock, but after a few tense minutes, began to stabilize.  Gaster stayed to watch over the young monster for the next few day. He only left to making up the doses for the others patient, but always returned Sans’ side. He son was saved and he happy. Soon he can take Sans home and Papyrus would be overjoyed. They can once live as a happy family. Gaster hoped that this would be the end of the parasite.

[triangletempt-blog]

PIECES

{Bonnie} — ( a dedication to @Antitheton ) ‬ ‪( It was a huge mistake. With every step that brought me closer to my destination, a shiver rolled down my spine in anxious anticipation. Holding my breath for a single heartbeat. ‬ Haunting words in the form of a simple request swirled in circles within the valleys of a mind riddled by concern. ' Make me believe that you have missed me. ' The cacophonous choir of unsynchronized conversations slammed into me with the harsh reality of Sanctuary's overcrowded building. The bar/restaurant, of New Orleans, welcomed every creature as long as their behaviour abided by the rules of the Omegarion council. As a result, the crowd was divided between humans and preternatural creatures. As if I didn't have enough reasons to tremble from head to toe. My feet finally reached the three steps that would drown me in a most hated spot —the spotlight. But for him, I would be standing in the midst of heterogeneous public, taking pleasure in the performance of the house band. The Howlers. Instead, anticipation and distasteful dread raced through my veins like lethal cyanide. The members of the band assumed their respective positions across the stage, leaving the front of it empty for me with a microphone sitting there. Swallowing, I found my throat as dry as the desert but sheer determination prompted my fingers to close around the device. Unused to this predicament, my breath came out in short pants. But Bonnie Bennett knows no defeat to what she puts her mind into. Eyelids closed, and a whispered prayer later, the first notes echoed in the room that fell silent with the note of conscious sorrow entwined with the melody. “I have missed you.” Murmured words encountered their amplification through the sound system as lips brushed against the metallic surface of the microphone trapped between my fingers. ( https://youtu.be/8Uw8mIcQJn8 ) A pair of mismatched eyes watched her like a hawk. Expressionless, he stood in quiet movement between a crowd. Never blending. He betrayed no emotion as the song progressed, demanding the deliverance of lyrics that flowed through lips in automatic reaction. I couldn't look away. I became a prisoner of a gaze that seemed so serene, it clawed at me. Petrified, the dose of desperation and desire to escape the scrutiny of every patron robbed me of breath. The art of singing had nurtured my soul since I could remember myself. But it took every ounce of courage to face the judgement in the eyes of strangers while my heart focused on one particular creature. One that cracked the ruins of my heart with his brokenness. ) “I'm here again A thousand miles away from you A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am I tried so hard Thought I could do this on my own I've lost so much along the way” ( Inside my chest, the erratic heart took it upon itself to feed every nerve with boundless misery so each word conveyed the depth of emotional disruption. Like untamed electricity, the weight of words spread bitter torment that unveiled every scar. Every wound. The past was ever unforgiving. But I stood, here on this stage, willing to drown in tumultuous vulnerability. For him. ) “Then I'll see your face I know I'm finally yours I find everything I thought I lost before You call my name I come to you in pieces So you can make me whole” ( Pain lacerated the heart. The longing reflected in my gaze was not sufficient demonstration of the yearning that pulled me down with every heartbeat in his absence. —I will count the heartbeats until I see you again. ) “I've come undone But you make sense of who I am Like puzzle pieces in your eye Then I'll see your face I know I'm finally yours I find everything I thought I lost before You call my name I come to you in pieces So you can make me whole” ( Drenched in the violation of emotional turmoil, one lone tear rolled down in a path of infernal torture. ) “I tried so hard So hard I tried so hard Then I'll see your face I know I'm finally yours I find everything I thought I lost before You call my name I come to you in pieces So you can make me whole So you can make me whole” ( The final touches of the song brought its finality to the quiet room. The tension evacuated my body and still my legs refused to cooperate. Rooted to the spot, my breathing grew shallower when my chin lifted and there was no trace of him. . . ) — {Jaden} — |[|The Sanctuary was a steady sea, the treacherous tides only the movement of a mixture of creatures seemingly out of myths, the undercurrents flowing with the secrecy of the unchanging presence of mystical pedestrians and nomads. I couldn't make myself recall as to why I ended up here and the thought remained locked in its chains whilst a ripple was waved out in the sea. "Isn't that the witch who aided Kyrian and the rest? Something Bennett?"|]| It's Bonnie Bennett. |[|I correct with a tinge of annoyance as the creature besides me is quieted down by the wave of my presence. My mind drunk in the last lethargy of the night prior that dreaded to have stretched itself into the flow of time, didn't quite yet register the man's question, as I remained seated with the fridigity of the bottle trying to seep into my bones and trying to flesh out the vulnerability of a human just as the witch was in attempt of since our encounter. This was a place of gathering, discussions regarding new parties wasn't really something out of the blue of its waters. It wasn't until the familiarity of the voice washed over that it knocks upon me why her name - in half remembrance - was brought up. "I have missed you." A heavy skull is strung up with the threads of its usual nonchalance, though that wasn't the emotion in glide through the plane of my mind. The steady sea stirred, a ripple buzzing out in concentric circles as if a lovelorn bottle was tossed upon it - every mass that made up these waters wanting to be absolutely certain that the letter in it was for their dreary hearts. But I knew the scribbles of emotions that were etched in belong to no one other than me. "Oh, you god damn witch." I say to myself as an unfamiliar beat washes out to accommodate the change of the currents, bringing a sense of mobile immobility to the crowd while my eyes remained upon the witch, front runner for the Howlers now as she finally seemed to have made up an answer for a demand that was given out in nothing greater than my own perplexity - the need for which I had deemed long past and absolutely unnecessary. But she wouldn't be Bonnie Bennett if she didn't stretch it an extra mile. Lyrics lull from her lips, the origin of which remain unknown to me. Detached from modern music and modern muses, it stirred only the foreign feelings in me that multiplied as if like an infection in my indestructible body, her being the plague. A stagnant surface remained upon my features despite the hurricane swirling around me, as the rest could connect the song to some memory, to someone, to the original artist, to a dedication they made themselves or was made to them. My chosen ignorance now tossed me to connect each beat, each lyric, the vibrato of each bass to nothing but her. "I've lost so much along the way." - The line unwinds the swinging gates of memories of the past - Azmodea, the ruins of my dignity in its depths, the eternity that stretched on from the speck of a functioning being that I once was to the embodiment of darkness. It felt like a curse, the song. Her. Bound to me by some ungodly - no, godly - optimism that fed off of my pessimism, ruining it bit by bit. But I had known worse curses to be damned by. "So you can make me whole." - Completely confused for the first time in my existence as memory served me as to why she'd place the torn shreds of her own soul upon the hands of one whose hands only lacerated everything in its grasp. Or if it was counter reciprocity that meant I'd be the one handing over what I got left. If I hadn't already. The room quiets down as the song meets its end, Bonnie Bennett left standing upon the podium of performance. The streak of that lone tear still singing upon her face. The creature who disgraced her name before was back at my ear again. He really was an inquisitive one by childish nature. "Who do you think she sang that for? The last time this happened, it was /Acheron/ of all people gushing out over his lady love."|]| You're about to find out. |[|Booted feet press upon the floors, cutting their way towards the stage with the water of bodies parting on either ways to accommodate my presence. Getting up on the stage, the spotlight itchy upon my skin as I focus my attention upon the petite witch in front of me, the coldness of mismatched eyes remaining ever familiar.|]| Everything you say and do is really the epilogue of a miserable novel. |[|Before she could answer, strong palms clasp onto either sides of her heart shaped face, lips molded in the spaces that hers created in their parting with heated lust and undefined passion, the rest of the world dimming down to white noise.|]| But I believe you.

[tsw-story]

Chapter 15 - Silent but Deadly

He had muscles. His muscles had muscles. At least, that's what it seemed, but Dylan had grown so large under the night's sky that he became only a shadow looming before a canvas of stars. Daveon, Deena, and Kevin stood at the ready. Though, none of them felt ready in the slightest.

“Are we fighting a kaijou now?” shouted Kevin.

“This is bad,” stated Deena. “For more reasons than just him. We're causing way too much noise. People are going to end up coming here soon, and then we'll have more than just a monster to deal with. We need to get out of here.”

“We can't just let this thing run free in the city. It could kill people! Somehow, we're going to have to stop him.”

Deena shook her head. “I can see why you're friends with Eldrian. Then what do we do?”

“We're at the limits of town. If we run, I bet he'll chase us, and we can get him away from here. Then he won't be able to destroy anything, or anyone. It's like the thing you wish people would do in movies so there wouldn't be so much collateral damage!”

The boy began sprinting in the opposite direction, whether he knew his friends would follow him or not. Thankfully they did. All three of them tactically retreated from the battle and towards the vast, flat landscape of Alberta's outskirts.

They felt each and every step Dylan took behind them, as if they really were being chased by a giant gorilla, or radioactive lizard. His giant fist took a scooping swing down towards them, clawing up the soil a mere inches from Deena's feet. She nearly screamed, but she was far too winded. They all were.

“He's catching up!” shouted Daveon. “His legs are far too big to outrun him any more!”

“Then take this,” Deena said with a deviousness to her glare.

She turns on her heels and tossed a spell she had been preparing. A sphere of roaring, sparkling void hurled from her grip like a revolving basketball sent to destroy. It blew a hole straight though the giant's stomach.

Flesh and innards burst free from within. Dylan, who was now gripping the vacancy in his gut, roared out, but his blank expression stared daggers down at the group. When his hands moved away, they noticed something else.

Strands of skin and other tissues, even muscle and organs, started to string together like a macabre sewing machine. It only took a moment for the injury to completely disappear. It didn't even leave a mark.

“You hit it, right?” asked Kevin.

Deena growled. “I did. I know I did. Did he heal that quickly?”

The force from Dylan's next attack caught them by surprise, as they were not only too busy inspecting his healing factor, but the night's sky was pitch black without the city's lights. They could barely see. His hand swatted Deena and Kevin like flies, sending them flying across the dirt to land tumbling a distance away.

Next, like a hammer, the giant's fist came down upon Daveon. He leapt and rolled to the right a mere moment before it came crashing to the ground. It shattered the soil and left a visible crater behind its wrath.

“That would have killed me,” muttered Daveon. “Guys! Are you all right?” he called to the darkness to no answer. He stood his ground with a look of worry on his face—concern for the others as much as himself.

He had nothing he could think of to help him in this situation. The vines he could manifest wouldn't stand a chance against a target this large. If he became an animal, he'd still be only a fraction of the size. And if he attacked it, the monster would just regenerate. He thought even Deena's hex wouldn't bother something like this. That wasn't a scream of pain earlier. It was one of rage.

Their witch was on her phone. It wasn't to call up a friend to gossip, nor was it to check her messages. It was a frantic call to a devil—a final desperate attempt for aid.

Lucy thankfully picked up.

“Mhm. What's up?” the devil asked.

“We're fighting a gigantic mound of muscle that can regenerate!”

“Oh. Is it a demon?”

“I don't think so. It was a guy who transformed.”

She said nothing else before a crack opened up in the Earth. The devil hopped out, and behind her, the crevice shut and disappeared. Lucy gazed up at the towering behemoth standing over Daveon, and her jaw dropped.

“This has to be the Elixir of Strength. Just like Rend,” she said.

“There was another. He's back in town, unconscious in rubble. Hopefully. We didn't have the chance to do anything with him before this guy showed up. We don't know what to do to stop him. Does this elixir have any weaknesses?”

Lucy sighed. “Not exactly. Its effects differ so wildly. All I know is that it takes only a sip to achieve something like this. Any more, and the user would certainly die. I did hear that multiple doses remained. Both of these must have drank one, including Rend, so they have to be connected.”

“Do you think someone is giving them away?”

“I don't know... I'm sorry. I have nothing to help you. I only know about demons, and even then, I'm not a fighter.”

Swopping out of the dusk was a crow. It transformed back into the handsome druid as it came near. He was sweating, panting, and he immediately looked behind himself.

The giant turned slowly. Its gaze soon locked upon the group.

“Sorry,” Daveon gasped. “I couldn't do a thing.”

Suddenly, a roar came from the giant's mouth that was loud enough to ring their ears. They felt the thunderous shock wave of sound several moments after it ceased. Dylan was only becoming more angry, and now he found them all once more.

“All right!” Lucy announced. “Here's one plan. Nothing that can heal itself is infinite. He must have a limit. Maybe if you destroy him enough, the healing factor will slow, and he can be retrained.”

“Easier said than done,” Kevin muttered.

“I'm not that much of a combatant,” Daveon admitted. “I'm learning, but I never had to fight things like this back home.”

Lucy shrugged. “You need to try. As helpful as it would be to have a few more wizards, everyone's just going to have to do their best. I—“

She was cut off, however, by the ringing of Deena's phone.

The witch's eyes looked to the screen, and they read the name Eldrian. Her eyes turned to her friends one by one as she pondered. She finally pressed a finger on the button to answer.

“Eldrian,” she whispered. “We're a little busy right now.”

“I just found out Kevin's missing,” came the voice in response.

“He was. We found him.”

A long sigh of relief came through the phone. Their conversation was soon interrupted by the stampeding feet of a creature taller than a giraffe. They split away like a frightened nest of mice, and Deena's exhausted panic was heard by Eldrian on the other side.

“What's going on?” he asked. “Are you being attacked? I heard something loud.”

“Someone else drank from the Elixir! Two of them. They took Kevin, and one's still here. I can't talk right now.”

“Don't hang up.”

The foot of a god shook the ground behind them, sending all four off balance. They struggled to stand once more, but the hulking creature was ready to smash.

It was distracted by the sudden calling of a man behind them. The voice was familiar to Dylan. Actually, it was far more than that. The sound of the voice caused one of his blank eyes to twitch. It was the voice of his most hated nemesis, Eldrian.

“Hey!” the wizard called. “Remember me?”

A cocky grin was present on his face. On the top of his head was the same top hat he wore that night, and his arms crossed over his chest. There was no fear present on his expression. Eldrian stood his ground, even when Dylan turned to glare down towards him.

“Eldrian!” screamed the beast, though it was barely understandable.

“This man's power is maximum,” muttered the wizard. He called out, “Do we have a plan?”

“Why did you do this if you didn't have a plan?” Deena yelled back.

“I'm distracting him!”

“We're going to hit him really hard, and then tie him down!” Kevin added.

“Simple enough. I was really bored laying in bed, and thanks to Deena, I've come up with a brand new spell. If we need to hit hard, this is the one, even if magic isn't just about doing the most damage. I've been wanting to try it on something. Hopefully it works.”

“I've got your back!” Kevin announced as he dug his feet in the ground, pulling himself into a battle stance. In one hand, he gripped his magic blade Drodias. He was ready to aid his friend in whatever way possible.

“Canada is way more interesting than I expected,” Daveon said as he rose up his hands. A spark came to his eyes. The druid was ready as well, and any talent he had with manipulating nature was preparing itself to support his allies.

Deena said nothing, but she nodded. One of her hands rose up, and above the tips of her fingers glinted a flash of shadow energy. Her vacant, red eyes glared up at the monster. And beside her was Lucy. Even though she wasn't there to fight, she wanted to see Dylan fall as much as the others.

Eldrian threw both his hands to the side. On each, two fingers extended, and sparks of magic came to life at the tips.

***

None was aware of the one who was watching. It was the Swedish warrior—hair brown and past her shoulders—known as Asta Ahlgren. She had just seen both Dylan and the others run away from town when her eyes caught the laying body of Ron. She stepped up to him.

“You're both idiots,” he snarled as she thrust her boot into his side, knowing it would have no real effect. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

Ron groaned. “You said you gave us the power to get revenge on Eldrian. We didn't know he'd have so many allies. Don't yell at me. My head is killin' me.”

“That's not what I meant. What the hell is Dylan doing? The police are going to show up after all that ruckus. And do you know what that means? The official spellbreakers are going to show up. Maybe wizards too. I didn't want them to notice what was happening.”

“I don't understand any of this.”

“No. You don't. It's my goal to erase all of this. I can't be found out. The government can't stand people who work independently to hunt wizards. Plus we... have some history. They don't care much for me, and I don't care for them.”

“I didn't know Dylan would turn into that.”

“Neither did I. I thought the Elixir somehow didn't affect him. He's a monster now. Hurry up. I don't want them to find you. I don't trust you not to tell them everything. They'll be coming as soon as the police report what they found. First Xeno runs off, and now this.”

The bald brute finally pulled himself off the ground. He dusted various pieces of rock and other debris from his clothes before pulling out a new cigar from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he opened a lighter, and he lit the end. Ron took a long inhale, and then sighed a cloud of thick smoke.

“I almost had them,” he grunted.

“No you didn't. Look at you. Your skin is metal-like yet you're back here, because your stupid. Let's move. Trust me. Unbreakable skin is irrelevant to the people who are going to want to catch you.”

“Sorry, ma'am,” he said with a dejected grunt.

“We'll split up in a moment. Meet me at that place.”

Asta gestured for him to follow. They disappeared from the scene. In the background, they heard only booming noises of impact, and thankfully, no sirens—not yet.

[glopratchet]

jase

page 14,067 You think to yourself "with enough time, anything's possible" brush your teeth Well not everything As hard as you try, with your pass-able looks and natural charisma, you couldn't convince a regular girl to settle down with you There was of course the time you got close Really close You could almost taste it But events didn't quite turn out in your favor, giving birth to your desire for revenge against these menacing criminals that took everything away while keeping the status quo in the background, you prepare the vehicle for tonight The heavy modified hoverbike sitting in your parking space in the Apartment-Boat you call home could bu handy if anything happens tonight A quick look in the mirror and you make sure your kutte is straight Time to fire this festering hole eventually door shuts behind !!!!!" "What did you just say?" You bend your head to your scruffy looking "girlfriend" "Darling" "I said he, are we or aren't we eating an alligator burger tonight?! Come on! We are going to be late! her fingernails nervously as she wears her construction outfit in your room She didn't work to day, but instead wanted you to show you this new opening at a Gallery You roll on the bed and sit up to catch a napping Cello, "uhh I dunno Bri, I'm supposed "No excuses! We are going, be ready, meet me there, DON'T BE LATE! Whole alligator dinner , assemble or eat Last weekend on my break from capture the flag, I stayed with my father, and his new bride "Darling" has no blood relation to me, but she feeds me bugs everyday and lets play near the construction sites We love to ride the huge trucks and dump them Once we were playing catch with a grenade since we thought it was a medicine ball Right before it blew up, dad came running at us with his eyes bigger than us Now that I rely use some filters and stay near sea I do not get to eat opening acts 4 minutes ago Well back in the day, I had an assassin try to take me out at their main encampment This was years ago when the ED and GC were still allies My public reason was to get some fuel for the trip to Nine-Oak, my real motive well to this day I'm not quite sure but it must've been important since I honestly thought I wasn't going to make it out of there and owner Door 5 The smell overtakes the sensors While 4 channels show a heavy dose of psychosis swinging back and forth with tylium injections, a brighter side appears You nearly see hope Her quarters are the large one at the top of everyone's screens covered with a one way window; perfect for spying and collecting intel, while maintaining necessary top security Also, you instantly recognize this families logo Your mind draws a blank then slowly; a blurry memory resurfaces ! Now! The writing on the walls is like no language you've ever seen, but you can make out a few familiar shapes Your mind struggles Zukhara? No, much older "Darling" hasn't moved an inch Quickly she grabs the image of an alligator in a fine crafted cherry wood frame from the wall and throws it on the floor with a loud crack The mirror and painting lay shattered and displayed on the ground or the paintings for dinner? And that other thing, whatever it was Be my guest! You pull yourself out of the seat and slowly walk to an empty space on the wall where you open a hidden safe Typewriter and stacks of cash fill the drawer as you sit down and start writing a note While your writing doesn't exactly look like calligraphy, presumably this will still be counted as "artwork" finish it and then mount it on an alligator skin I believe? Well if it'll honor you prefer the skin? Nothing's stopping you now, assuming he is on the level then both will be coming from our rations tomorrow night along with a bottle of 1975 empire Zinfandel which should make a fine adhesive, provided the gluing is up to the quality of your current paintings Your collection should look flawless The door opens as a slight breeze pushes it further into the room pay money to own some of that, shining in black frames on the red walls, alligator skin flooring and a genuine Empire zin Please give our compliments to genius chef as soon as he has time Research Assistants - University of Progensberg Your art is now top secret Even if anyone thought the colorful swirls were anything more than bits to be analysed they wont get far before it's taken out of general circulation , good thing arnt they one of the few human like species discovered it'd be a shame to see them go extinct before we had a chance to eat them Year 595 Research: While the painting sub branch isn't exactly mundane, you don't feel like it's enough creative outlet for today How will this help forging a GC post extinction legacy? You need to be doing more smelling faintly of paint and on most occasions you see red, blue or purple flash before your eyes Congratulations, after 500 years since the inception of the project it appears urantra brain secretes some kind of purple pigment for decoration purposes At this point we don't care, just take it and inject it into your veins almost as much as a fine bottle of empire zin The purple lightning strikes outside seem brighter and warmer these days, might just be the drugs talking though Almost done with this batch and then it's a few months of off book research Wanna come with? to EAT animals but not ok to EAT people or OTHER human like species, or elves or anything like that After rereading Anecia's speech you realize how close the average person is to becoming their food source Hopefully this research will earn a bit of trust that you aren't planning on eating them probably I heard that! And no im not coming with you, ill just be here waiting than they'd want to hurt Anecia They are essential for milk and cheese after all That being said, when your racing home after a hard day at the lab, hoping that tonight might treat you to some Anecian Stuffed Peppers, how often do you think about where the meat in that casserole really came from? And where did the cow come from anyways? Was it just walking around one day when it decided to become lunch? ? plus they taste good You were always told that dragons where monsters that scorched the earth and sky alike but now your standing here arms deep in a corpse of one The first dragon you've ever slain, and its wings are actually alot smaller then you thought If your parents could see you now, how proud they would be They'd probably question their training however, and rightfully so but still you had this one in the bag all along to realize, be it hook, spear or net, the dragon had little chance of escape With your own particular set of skills, you have this wyrm failling to a blow from above Year 600 You meet mr Average Person (read:secretary) early in the week with the to-do list every sunday you have to go over everything with him and give some sort of idea of what the team is going to work on two months from now or the intense studies of the Purple ichor's amazing healing properties? Question 6 (1,798 voters, tcoh_input@yahoo com) Hello nice to meet you roommate! tell me about yourself Name: Sun LiRace: Black TrollClass: PlayboyER demigodSTR! 30INT! 30WIS! 40 AGI! 50LUCK! 70SKILL! 56TRAIT! 18 let's see your father ran before he took you away Since that is no doubt who your roommate is let's see if we can figure that out There are roughly 100 students at this school about 25 are demi human and half of them are races that could easily be your roommate (or would that be roommers?) Of the remaining human race half of them are girls hmmm 1 in 4 now that probably isn't right If your more of gun nut check the lastest firearms at [kroger market] beer !!! if i were a teamate in this, what would my role be? (ans: Captain Kirk) if you don't find the quest fun anymore you can get The big you go, the harder it gets and more danger you're in with the law getting in your way many snatchers have been shanked because they tried to use deadly force Common based snatchers are in it for a quick buck, so as such they won't try to take on an entire orc tribe by themselves They'll hit lone caravans and small to mid sized groups of merchants Most cases the black market isn't a criminal underworld full of dangerous felons and relentless mana-vampires as it is a bunch of bored immortals trying to pass the time One of these things is the demon market, located in the third layer of hell (dashit) , with a 50% savediscount! As the thief harvest goes on, something a bit odd stands out to you In each and every case of missing persons a lot of them were last seen in the area around Kroger's region That supermarket is either running a regular scam or is involved in this somehow It wouldn't be the strangest thing you've seen, and it certainly wouldn't be the worst crime organization By questioning the store manager, it becomes clear that he knows exactly what's going on at your supermarket The hell is this? This smelly bigfoot goes by many names, from dogman, to the grizzy, to bigfoot, yet in all cases it is all the same creature Some say it's a werecreature of some sort while others believe them to just be a rare species that has managed to avoid discovery all these years But fact is, they look like bigfoot and that's good enough for you with the scope With this mode, each gun has a different "feel" to it You'll need to spend some time with this to master precision shooting There's aiming on the move, finding your range, and many other types of shooting Since you've only got the one shot, make it a good one To shoot or not to shoot With a deer carcuss near it You find the creature standing outside for some reason with one shot Not such an easy task, considering you're pretty far away Your standard iron sights are going to have to do since you don't have an optic for this gun It's a bit tough since when you use this gun from the hip it's over 20 pounds, so getting your aim steady is important Fortunately for you there's no wind so you just have to account for your lateral movement and launch the round There's fur, blood and entrails everywhere It's easy meat to take back and sell, which is important, because you're not getting it for free after your hunt congrats op you've more than doubly profited from this encounter Choose: deer skin or alligator skin Oh ick totals Maybe this game would be a little easier with higher caliber guns, or at least ones that can accept scopes The noise really isn't worth it though since all you're doing is driving away any game in the area In the future it might be worth going furless, but for now all those useless bits can be turned into ichorium explosives , as usual So, loot and sell the gall bladder, liver, heart, intestines and maybe even a tooth or two Keep these offable parts in your pack until you get home, then put them in the fridge If you need more storage get a cooler or upgrade the house comes, sell more parts to him then cook dinner for you and your buddy While preparing the meat for cooking have some guests come over They brought a few six packs of brew with them Go ahead and share the wealth You should put it in your new fridge After eating, showing off a bit and having a generally good time its time to hit the hay You fell asleep on the couch so move yourself to the bed at 12 99 a person Ohh monetization Tonight's profit: 2168 ichorium shares, 8 silver, 4 quarters Days passed in the marsh and you still don't have Clyde or Fen just a lot of wet feet You do however have eaten everything in your fridge even the bait, so you're going to have to get more food or eat something inedible again like the alligator fleshes you've got hanging around The thought haunts you throughout the day and night It's really throwing off your concentration, you can't wait for this time to be over so you can bag a couple of wyverns First thing in the morning you sharpen your rifle and put on your pack This is going to be the day Not once, but twice people from the fort come and see if you're around and suddenly everyone wants to see me And they'res not just a few people they're like 18 of them You were out hunting so you weren't around to whlect their calls, replys or even show up while prying eyes were watching Instead they get your mildly annoyed brother in law to talk to them They leave dissapointed and unanswered Then you jump in and make things worse You wander into the fort to pick up a few things at the store and who do you find there? The same two wyvern jockeys that approached you To your surprise they knew you were out here, but even more surprising was what one of them said while the other looked on in silence "We would've been better off if you hadn't helped us at all Did I really do that much damage? You tried to wave them off and assure them of the contrary but they left shortly there after You could only hope they would come to appreciate what you did for them in time Just then an all too familiar symbol caught your attention, staring up at you from a wanted poster it was Clyde! Or rather Commander Ram himself If you wore a mask around here people might mistake you for someone else But what does it say about us that someone like him was able to take charge in the first place? You were Clyde There was no denying it But you couldn't hunt him down, not after what happened The poor sap that did finally catch up with him on that wanted notice looked a lot like Mason, even had a family resemblance It wasn't him, but it could've been What would you do if you found him, put a gun to his head and drag him back? It was a tempting idea but he probably wouldn't get far and in your current mood you might not be able to bring yourself to help if someone else was beating him to within an inch of his life It was shameful, but the best thing you could do for him right now was stay away However he still needed to be brought to justice, the way he was gallivanting around the countryside rounding up god knew who and throwing them in his cells was bad for business People would begin to unite against him and that could be far worse bandits, mercenaries, wary townies, kobolds all with one collective ideology: Fear Something you only engendered towards yourself and justified with your greater purpose To lose that power could cost you your survival! No, Ram had to be brought to justice, but not by you The best way of erasing your past was to put some distance between it and yourself You'd head west, maybe head out to sea or even up north to where the gnomes and their contraptions came from A new frontier, there had to be one yet untapped But before you could begin your new life you had to make one last trip out to the woods and see how Detlaf and Ranon were progressing on their logging town (You didn't want to go out there again ever but beggars can't be choosers ) You found them both cutting down trees like it was going out of style, which with the influx of new settlers it very well might Seeing you ride up they finally take a break You didn't really have to, but it was a convenient excuse to just sit there pulling up your shirt sleeve and scratching at your glowing badge of honor Your beam of light may have been gone, but it would never fade from your arm You came to accept that, you only wished you could do the same with the scars that wrapped around your back Still, the badges were going to come in handy as you've managed to use them as a conversation starter "See something you like Mason?" Ranon playfully sneered while waggling his eyebrows He probably didn't even realize what he was doing but you just let it slide and carry on with what you needed "That town you were working on looks like its coming along well "Town?" Ranon said with some pride "Haram, it's a city now King Sylvester himself stopped by recently to give his official endorsement Lot of people flooding to it You were genuinely happy for both of them but the news did stop you for a moment A whole another kingdom? If a place that big could form that fast just from one bandit gang then wherever you end up things were going to be very different Actually now that you thought about it considering how big the kingdom must be there was probably anothere bandit gang somewhere else doing much the same thing you were Bandits: Been there, done that It probably hadn't even been a year yet and already the game was up Well in for a coin, in for a Rai-ken You had made your decision and your destination doesn't matter as long as its a new frontier and they needed doctors right? Well maybe you'd stick to frontier clinics, but that was still medicine Might even get to put those old bandit skills of stealing from the sick for the good of the community Time would tell In any case you had some people to see and from there you'd make your plans Your next destination was Rask and then beyond it! Or so you thought Funny how things worked out, but it was the calm before the storm You laid down to sleep on your bed one night and then you heard a loud noise followed by the house shaking as if there was an earth quake going on Your rabbits in a stew because none of the furniture broke but everything ended up in disarray and broken pottery was everywhere One of your manticores came running in from one of the other rooms having been spooked by the noise if the trampled flower vase and rolling obei seeds meant anything You were still half-awake and pretty startled yourself, but instincts kicked in and you moved towards your rifle, thinking it was hostiles or something By the time you got into the living room and realized what happened it was over And just in time too, because you heard Naji let out an unearthly shriek of pain from her bedroom next door