#orange is like. the high energy lab stuff..i think

[cinnabeat]

also i really want to know what the color coded discovery notes mean...

[ask-lab-rats]

back again with another lab kid theory!! today, ill be doing knife, bc why not.

Knife's ability is described as being able to control the angle/target of things he throws, mostly knives. Now, if I was doing a crack theory, I would say it's mostly knives because his name was Knife, therefore if his name was Cow, he would be better at throwing cows, but this isn't that much of a crack theory.

My main theory is that he's better at throwing knives due to their triangle shape being more aerodynamic? (As you can tell, I do not remember much from my classes so my data might be very off lol.) If so, this may also apply to other aerodynamic stuff like paper airplanes or bottles, stuff that splits the air kind of, instead of stopping it.

This leads to a split theory that really goes either way. Either subtle air manipulation or object pathway manipulation/telekinesis of some kind?

I'm thinking air manipulation, because Knife still has to physically throw the object itself, leading me to believe that he's using the air to "guide" and "angle" the object to its target.

The other route is that Knife is guiding the object itself, but not the air or other factors, which is why it's still limited to what he can throw as it needs the kinetic energy of it falling to move. (As you can plainly see, I am starting to get confused by my own words and thoughts.)

All of this combined leads to ideas like, what if he's in an airplane? What counts as him throwing it? If he pushed the plane as it started to fly then somehow got in, would he be able to guide the plane?

This also means that depending on the shape of the object, Knife could likely maneuver things around easier compared to other powered subjects.

Ex: Taco, Knife, and Balloon have abilities that also apply to certain objects. Taco could invisible something and then herself. Knife and Balloon could work separately to hide something or work together in some way? (Balloon put object up high so when it falls, Knife uses that energy to target a place.) However, Bomb, Lightbulb and Paintbrush have abilities that are more on the destructive side (explosions, electricity and fire) however, depending on how they're used, could also do other stuff. (Electricity causing a blackout? idk, I'll talk more about it in Lightbulb's theory ask.) Bow's more misc/other category than Orange Juice, but they both fit in Misc/Other.

BUT THAT'S JUST A THEORY!! A LAB RATS THEORY!!

-🪨💥(emojis might be a bit off bc i wrote this on laptop compared to my previous asks being on phone so emojis look different to me)

CreatorNotes: Interesting

Tho his power actually has nothing to do with knives or the way they're shaped (i mentioned more how his ability works here)

Yeah I think it's more telekinesis if anything

air manipulation does certainly make sense tho

He has to physically throw it for his abilities to work. like if a knife was thrown at him, he wouldn't be able to move it with his ability. and I don't think he'd be able to control something on the weight level of a plane lol

I always love ur theories <3

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 2.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death. if you are not comfortable with these warnings please dni. 

< previous chapter

   - Where are you going? - Miriam rose her head from the work bench as Y/N took her gloves and googles off, disposing of both in the yellow bin. - Y/N, where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with the trainees. 

    - I’m going to get dinner. No eating in the lab, remember?

    - Urgh, couldn’t you have gone to dinner when Michael was here? You’re leaving me alone with the trainees ... and the ask so many questions. - she whispered the last part, afraid the trainees would hear her and hit her over the head with their very heavy portfolios. - I’m going next.

    - Hour break, don’t you dare page me. - she pointed her finger menacingly at Miriam before clocking out and heading out for dinner. If they had told her during her sleepless nights spent revising for her least favourite modules the most exciting time of her shifts would be the bland food served by the hospital cafeteria, she would’ve just become a pharmaceutical researcher. Yet again, you need to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top and Y/N was more than ready to climb that moment.

She pressed the button for the lift, leaning against her own hand as she tried to wake herself up. Turns out studying and staying up all night applying for PhD projects and then coming to work at 7AM is not the way to go for energy. Luckily, the black tea she had drank this morning had managed to keep her awake, however the caffeine was starting to slowly leave her system and she still had a few more hours awaiting her. As she was about to fall asleep while waiting for the lift to make it to the lower floors, she heard her name being called out.

      - Y/N? - she looked to her side to see Peter standing next to her. They’ve known each other since freshers and if there was someone who was always wide awake during twenty four hour shifts it was him. He worked currently in the clinical biochemistry laboratory, mostly coming over to visit Y/N whenever they were working on cardiac infection cases together. - I looked at the file you gave me. CRP is actually present but quite low, could be recovery phase from an infection. My guess with abdominal pain would be a UTI. 

     - You reckon it hit recovery phase by itself? 

     - Listen, some pharmacy assistant might’ve given him antibiotics. Who knows but I’d get a urine analysis, do some cultures and see how’s it going but from my point of view, it’s in recovery phase. 

    - You’re a superstar, Peter. - she hugged him just as the lift doors opened. - You’re going up?

    - Yeah, it’s dinner time. I think they’re serving meatballs today. Exciting stuff. - the two stepped onto the lift. - Miriam said Dr. Stan came down today. You’re still giving him hell?

    - I am not giving him hell. He’s just constantly sending samples either mislabelled or misplaced and he expects me to lecture his nursing staff about it. 

    - I don’t know, Y/N. Back at university you spent 2 hours arguing an answer with a lecturer, I just think you like arguing. - he chuckled as the doors opened onto the floor where the cafeteria was. - Or maybe you like arguing with Dr. Stan. 

Before she could complain about the snide comment, Peter took to having a chat with a nurse he was particular sweet on leaving Y/N with her mouth open ready to argue and a finger pointed at him. She rolled her eyes, collecting herself as she released her hair from the ponytail which held it safely high up so her scalp could rest for a few hours before it had to go back up. Walking into the green lit cafeteria, the room was filled with half asleep medical staff digging through the bland food like mindless zombies. She did not blame them, she too sometimes would switch off her brain during breaks but lately all the free time she had was dedicated to applications after applications, despite the fact she kept getting rejections every single day. 

The scientist grabbed a worn out plastic blue tray, getting a batch on weirdly shaped meatballs from the cafeteria lady as well as some odly too yellow noodles. Hey, it is food, her brain told her as she grabbed a diet Pepsi and a slice of apple pie which was the only eatable dessert around. 

     - Didn’t you owe me dinner?

     - You almost made me drop my tray. - she gave the resident doctor a dirty look, gripping tighter onto the tray. - And I’ll be damned if I ever owe you dinner but I do have your blood culture results and we did sort out your weird infection case.

      - It is not my infection case. 

     - Fine, your patient’s infection case. God heavens if any interns knew that you had an infection, that way they wouldn’t fawn over you. - she rolled her eyes at him, setting her tray in the first table she came over. He did the same, placing his tray right in front of hers before sitting in the metal chair with a cocky grin.  - Go away, I’ll send over the report to your office. 

      - Have you not figured it out yet and trying to buy yourself more time? Or are you trying to escape the dinner date you set up with me?

      - That might work on your interns but not on me, Stan. Besides, it is an infection.

       - But there’s no worrying levels CRP besides, what about the abdominal pain? Surely CRP and white blood cells would be off the roof. 

       - Okay, since you probably missed Biochemistry in med school I will explain it to you. The CRP levels are high during initial phases and lower down during resolve. Your patient is probably on recovery phase already. Recovery means it is fixing itself. Do you need me to explain CRP to you?

     - If you pulled that out with any other doctor, you would’ve gotten told off.

     - Other doctors don’t ask me stupid questions. - she pointed her fork at him. - Dr. Mackie never sends the samples in the wrong vials. 

     - What about the blood cultures?

     - Congratulations, Dr. Your patient is not septic. It’s most likely localised but I’d suggest ordering some X-rays if you wanna localise where it actually is. I wash my hands of your troubles. - she shrugged, wrapping her fork in the spaghetti laying on her plate. - Need anything else, Dr. Stan?

      - I remember being promised a dinner date.

      - You should get your ears checked, the only thing I promised you was data and you’re lucky I also gave you a data ana ... - the scientist was interrupted by her pager beeping loudly against her belt. She grumbled, looking down at her belt with a look that would scare  anyone. - Duty calls.

       - How convenient it went off now. 

       - Unlike you, Dr. Stan, I have a team to lead.

       - Sounds complicated, Y/N. You sure you don’t need a babysitter?

She turned around as she was about to leave, raising his middle finger at him before rushing down the hall as her pager beeped uncontrollably. So much for not paging her during dinner time. Someone better be dying, she thought to herself as she slide her card into the door slot to get access. What she came in contact with was not what she was expecting from a laboratory of trained professionals. Miriam was holding one of the trainees head forward whose nose was bleeding all over her worktop bench.

      - Miriam, what the fuck?

      - Don’t look at me. Thomas ... - she squinted at the boy whose head she was holding forward. - Started bleeding when he smelled the knee aspiration.

      - Oh no. - Y/N put some gloves on before walking over to the two. - Okay, Miriam call a code orange. I’ll take Thomas upstairs and get him sorted.

      - It’s so stinky.

      - I know. - Y/N handed them two cotton balls from the jar to her left. - Put  them up your nose.

What would be a day in the laboratory if a newbie didn’t either faint or got nose  bleeds from samples? Definitely not a day in her laboratory. She looked around the busy hospital grounds, trying to find any free, available nurses but they were all overworked. No wonder why, whenever midnight rolled around, people started coming in left and right from club brawls and the grounds were always a nightmare.

      - What you got there, Miss Y/L/N? Is this how you lead your team?

      - Fuck off, Stan. I do not have time to listen to your comments, I need to find a nurse.

      - What happened, kid? - Sebastian looked to the 19 year old medical laboratory assistant holding cotton against his nose. - Lab that bad? Come on, I’ll fix you up.   

      - Thanks. - she mumbled, following the two men into one of the free areas. Thomas sat on the table while Sebastian pulled up a chair to sit in, Y/N remaining up on her feet. 

      - So kid, what happened? Y/N rough you up too much?

      - He got a nosebleed from the smell of a knee fluid from an aspiration. - Y/N replied to him, much to Thomas delight who felt more than embarrassed about the situation he was in. - Is this what you’re doing now, Dr. Stan? Minor cases? Did the chief of medicine finally realised you’re unqualified?

      - No. - he spoke as he pointed out his light at the trainees nose, to look for any specific damage. - One of my patient’s in critical care but it seems to have stabilised for now at least. 

      - Oh ... sorry. What happened to them?

      - Sepsis. - he turned off the lights. - Listen kid, it’s nothing to bad. Just stay sat here and firmly pinch the soft part of your nose, just above your nostrils, for about 15 minutes. Don’t forget to lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Me or one of the nurses will come check on you after to see if it has improved but so far, so good.

     -  I’ll return to the lab. Page me when you’re ready to return, okay? - she gave the young starter a kind smile before pulling the curtains and letting him be. Unfortunately for her, Stan would not let her be. - Keep it.

     - How weak are your staff? How are they gonna react to when they actually see infected body parts?

     - I said keep it. - she crossed her arms, ready to leave and return to the laboratory until she remembered something. She turned around on her heel, passive aggressive smile on her lips as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - Also, Dr. Stan, the infected tissue samples you sent us had the wrong birthdate on them.

     - C’mon Y/N.

     - They’re on hold until you speak with the laboratory manager about them. Good luck.

He opened his mouth to fight with her but she had already gotten into the elevator. The rest of her shift was pretty uneventful with her and a few of her colleagues having to pick up the pace to get everything sorted before they left. Miriam and her fiance left first at 1AM leaving Y/N to count the minutes til 2 AM rolled around. Once the clock read 2AM, like a speeder, she was out of that laboratory and into the elevator before anyone could call her. Walking to her parking spot, the sky was dark, the lot light by harsh yellow barely brightening. As she walked over to the second handed baby blue Fiat 500, she noticed someone hunched over and sat on the top of a black new model Audi, smoke coming out from his cigarette. Normally, she would’ve just avoided it and gotten into her car to go home but the turquoise scrubs were much too familiar at this point.

    - Dr. Stan? - her boots hit the gravel as she stood just a few meters away from him. - Do they not teach you in medical school that smoking increases the chance of lung cancer?

    - Not now, Y/N. - no sarcastic remark? That was a new one. He threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once it was all over, feet rubbing it against the gravel. - Not now.

    - I thought your shift finished at 1:30? Pulling overtime hours? Someone needed your assistance? Death time?

    - My septic patient died. - she immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Death was not something she particularly dealt with. Surely, some results were awful, specially in cases of ultra resistant bacteria showing up in the blood but that’s what they were, results. She didn’t see the patient, in all honesty all she would know the patient would be by a barcode number. - Sepsis quickly lead to organ failure. I don’t understand ... she was getting better.

    - Sepsis is unpredictable. You did the best you could do. 

    - And you’d know? All you do is be in the laboratory and do tests. What would you know about it?

    - Okay ... - she put her hands on her hips. - Are you on any antibiotics, prescription pain killers, sedative drugs, statins or any antidepressants?

     - I don’t see the point. 

     - The bar nearby has a discount for hospital staff. It’s only a five minute walk and everyone else is so miserable, you don’t feel bad about being miserable.

     - I’m not going to the bar in my scrubs, Y/N.

     - If you’re okay wearing those ... - she pointed at his scrubs. - Then you are okay wearing them at the bar.

She was right, the bar did look miserable. Not in a miserable way which would require regulation to shut down the place but miserable in a way one would just be at home wallowing in their pity with a pint of beer and right now that was all he needed. He sat in a sticky red booth, in front of her with a pint of beer while she picked a cocktail from the menu.

     - You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d come here.

     - And I’m not but they sell really cheap burgers at lunchtime. - she put her hand under her chin. - Besides, I’ve done this before.

     - When did you convince someone to come to the bar because their patient flat lined?

     - You know Dr. Liam Watts?

     - Surgery residency? I’ve heard about him before. - her lips tensed in a straight line as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - No. You’ve been here with Bucktooth Watts before? 

    - Yeah... even after he clearly needed support after he couldn’t save his first patient, he still decided to take me on a date here.

    - I’m sorry, you dated Bucktooth Watts? - he chuckled, downing whatever was left of his pint, signalling the bartender to bring him another one.

   - This is why we don’t hang out. He’s not bucktoothed. 

   - Sure, sure. I see the appeal, I mean over Christmas at least you have someone to cut the carrots. 

The night went onwards with a bunch of maybe irresponsible drinking. Y/N was two mojitos in and she was already tipsy and giggling like a school girl, not really used to drinking. Sebastian was in the same state as her, trying not to laugh at everything as they stepped outside to grab a taxi. At least both of them were conscious enough to decide not to drive.

   - No, you did not get locked in the vroom cupboard during your residency. - she held her belly as she laughed.

   - I did and my senior doctor did not notice I was gone. I was stuck there for 5 hours.

   - Oh god. - she held herself against the wall. - I always knew you were a clutz. You know, you’re the only doctor who hasn’t told off his nurses about the blood  bottles.  

   - Can I tell you a secret? - he whispered mid laughter. - I am afraid of them.

   - Oh my god. - she held her hand on his shoulder covering her mouth with the other one. - See, this is why I constantly argue with you. You’re soft, doctor.

   - Arguing with you is the best part of my day. You look really hot when you’re telling me off.

   - You look terrible when I tell you off. - the two of them stopped laughing, looking into each other eyes for the first time since they’d been out of the laboratory. Maybe it was the alcohol but at that moment, the best idea to the two of them was to lean towards each other, his hands grasping each side of her waist as they connected the space between them, getting together into a hot long kiss.

[beetlegoose01]

Frostbite Chapter 5- Toxic

AN: Happy Friday y’all! Here’s a longer chapter to celebrate! It’s a little intense, but I hope you enjoy.

~~~

Morning came sooner than any of the turtles anticipated, but especially to Donnie who was running on three hours of sleep. He counted on snoozing for another twenty minutes before training, but luck wasn't on his side. Even before his own carefully crafted alarm clock robot beeped, a loud voice woke him.

"Donnie!" came Michaelangelo bounding in with the energy of a golden retriever puppy. He bounced on the crooked bed with a loud creak of movement.

He groaned, still half asleep and bleary. "I'm sleeping, Mikey."

His baby blue eyes sparkled with mischief, prepared to annoy his older brother with his charming, but obnoxious grin. "No you're not. If you were asleep, how could you be talking to me?" He poked Donnie's head playfully. "Duh. I missed you, bro." He lay flat on his back, taking up most of the space and nearly smacking Don in the face. "It was like peanut butter without the jelly. Batman without Robin. Raph without Chompy! Elphaba without Gali-"

Rolling over, Donnie sat up begrudgingly. "I get the point. But you saw me last night." He stated obviously. "Remember?"

He scrunched his nose thoughtfully. "That was forever ago! And you were all cooped up in your lab for most of the time. We never hang anymore. Like, doing fun stuff."

"I guess you're right about that." He shrugged. "Sorry, I promise we'll hang out again sometime. Maybe tonight?"

"Dude, that's gregarious!" He looked immensely proud that he used a big word, even if it was used incorrectly.

"Uh...close."

"We can have pizza, play video games, ooh! Have a monster movie marathon!" He exclaimed, listing each activity on his stubby fingers. 

"That sounds great."

"Come on bro, I'm making everyone breakfast! So you better hurry before Raph hogs it all." Mikey leapt off the bed, springing into action. Most likely the kitchen. 

It took a good five minutes for Donatello to physically move out of bed. He wasn't one for sleeping in, but he was never opposed to it either. Whereas Leo was always awake in the early morning and Mikey was chipper no matter what. And Raph...well, Raph was Raph.

The kitchen was bustling with energy, at least from Mikey's angle. He was cheerfully serving up omelettes on plates, carrying the ones he couldn't hold on top of his head with the balance of a ninja. Mikey had a talent for making even the fouled stench of the sewers comfortable and hospitable with only his charm and sweet demeanor. Not to mention his excellent cooking skills.

"Omelette au fromage made especially for Master Splinter." He said, passing the first plate to the wise rat. "Fromage means cheese in Spanish!" He explained. "Or...one of those languages."

"Thank you, Michaelangelo."

"Looks delicious, Mikey." April complimented, still residing in the lair. It was an hour or so before school, so she enjoyed having breakfast with the brothers. It felt as though she was part of their little family.

"Eh, don't forget me! I'm starved." Raph complained, eagerly stabbing his food with a fork as he dug in. Smiling softly, he cut up neat pieces for Chompy Picasso.

"Where is Leonardo?" Splinter glanced around the kitchen, noticing the blue masked turtle seemed to be missing.

"I thought he was mediating still." Raph said, puzzled.

"No, he wasn't." said Mikey. "I checked." He looked innocently at his brothers and April. "I made a plate of food for him and everything! Now it's gonna get cold." He looked down glumly.

"Maybe he's still asleep?" April suggested.

The three youngest turtles shook their heads in unison.

"Leo's always the first one awake. It's weird that he isn't here." Raph lifted Chompy onto his shoulder. "Not that I mind. I like the peace and quiet and lack of Space Heroes references to start my morning right."

"Donatello, perhaps you should check your brother's room?" Splinter suggested, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It is possible he is still resting or feeling unwell."

"Hai Sensei."

April, sensing his apprehensiveness, stood up and rested her hand on his shoulder. "It'll be alright. I promise."

Feeling comforted by her warm tone, Donnie nodded firmly, and left the kitchen with high hopes that Leo was just snoozing longer than usual.

Something wasn't right. Donatello knew this, deep down, despite his optimism. His worry was growing the closer he moved to Leo's room, silently praying that everything would be alright. Raising a shaking hand, he opened the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief. There Leo lay in a deep slumber, even snoring lightly. It felt awful to simply wake him up, but he didn't really have a choice.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." He murmured, patting him. "Training time."

Unexpectedly Leo retracted his head into his shell, snoring even louder. This was beyond unusual- heck, even out of character. Leo was always extremely punctual and neat, refusing to be late for any training session.

"Why are you so tired?" Donnie wondered aloud. "We went to bed at the same time..."

Leo yawned, sluggishly moving forward out of his shell and stretching. "M' awake." He blinked. "Were you talking to me?" The blank expression that he gave was enough to cause further anxiety.

"Yeah? We have training."

His eyes widened. "Training! Oh, sewer apples!" He stumbled out of bed clumsily. "I'm here, I'm-" He yawned again. "Awake."

Donnie frowned, trying to analyze why Leo was so exhausted. Sure, they went to bed fairly late, but they've gone to bed later before and Leo hadn't been nearly as tired as he was now. But he wasn't about to start an argument either.

"Right."

Training was...awkward to say the least. Leonardo, who was usually extremely precise and swift with his movements, was now sloppy and uncoordinated. Everyone seemed to notice, but no one made a comment until Mikey had successfully pinned his oldest brother to the ground after a Barai.

"Booyakasha!" Mikey cheered. "I did it!"

"Yeah, because Leo barely put any effort into it." Raph said smugly, holding Donnie in a headlock.

"Yame!" Splinter commanded.

Dropping Donnie casually, Raphael glanced at their sensei with a bored expression on his face.

April, looking uncomfortable, placed her tessen back in her bag. "Class starts soon. I should probably get to school." Turning to Splinter, she smiled. "Arigato, Sensei. See ya later guys."

Splinter nodded. "Excellent work, April."

Leo groaned, rubbing his back. Humiliated, he bowed miserably.

"Leonardo, I think it would be best for you to rest."

"Arigato Sensei." He replied gratefully.

Raph crossed his arms. "That was pathetic. Even for you." He sneered. "Sorry we can't have you leadin' without your little nap time. Should I tuck you in too?"

He glared. But he didn't seem to have the energy to argue.

Donnie watched him leave, a pensive look on his face.

~•~

April found herself trudging to school, regretting leaving the lair after remembering she had a math quiz that she forgot to study for. Funny how she'd rather be in the sewers over a classroom.

A long time ago she craved a normal life, but now she loathed it.

Though there wasn't much normality in crushing on both a deranged hockey player and a mutated turtle. With the Kraang, mutants still running rampage- her life was destined to be abnormal.

She placed her bags away in her locker, sighing loudly. The bell was about to ring, and she hadn't seen any sign of Casey. She had been hoping to chat with him at least a little bit.

"Hey April!" A pretty girl with afro puffs came towards her, beaming.

"Hi Summer," She breathed, tension breaking at the sight of her friend. Well...not really friends. But they were friendly, and that was good enough. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine." Summer said. "Very productive. The yearbook committee is in full swing!" Glancing at her quizzically, she giggled. "Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted."

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Listen...have you seen Casey?"

Summer, who was fairly popular and seemed to know everyone at the school thought for a moment. "Casey Jones? Senior?" After April nodded, she shook her head. "Nope, I don't think so. Sorry, I know you two are close."

April felt herself blush. "It's complicated."

"Don't I know it. Come on, it's time for homeroom."

Her mind wandered throughout the day, wondering how she could possibly concentrate on physics, when the growing uneasy feeling in her stomach.

It was all going to be alright.

Convincing Donnie was one thing. But convincing herself? A totally different problem.

~•~

Instead of going to sleep as he was instructed, Leo found himself topside again. The sun was setting a beautiful peach orange color over the skyline of smoke. Teenagers roamed the streets, and he swore he caught April with a group of girls chatting animatedly about something. He smiled, happy she was having fun and some resemblance of a normal, mutant free life.

He felt like a lousy leader. Hell, a lousy brother. Sneaking out like a kid, over some girl? A gorgeous mutant girl...but still. Without even telling his own brothers, let alone father where he was going.

There was that annoying feeling. Guilt. But...he was making the right choice. By getting his siblings involved, it would only lead to trouble.

"Leonardo..." That sultry voice cooed from behind.

"Nova." He gasped, releasing his katanas back in their holders.

"Sorry I'm late, my darling. My sleep schedule has been quite difficult."

He cringed.  "Don't call me that. But, it's okay."

She curled her muscular tail around his waist comfortably. "My apologies." She slithered beside him, golden eyes meeting his ocean blue ones. His heart rate increased.

Changing the subject, he smiled easily. "Have you reconsidered my offer?"

"I have. My hunger has been satisfied for now, but that won't last long."

"What have you been eating?" Leo looked at her wearily, afraid of the answer.

"Shh...that isn't important." Lifting his chin gently with her claws, he melted at the touch.

"If you say so." Leo hugged his knees, then grazed her gnarled scales, admiring their shimmering form. Her claws brushed against him casually and he winced.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's...okay. It didn't hurt. I promise."  They were faint. Surely no one would notice.

Relaxing, she nuzzled him. "Good."

Her eyes were big, wide. The moon reflecting in her pupils made him move closer. Then he stopped.

"This is a bad idea." He said, taking his hand back. "I barely know you. Maybe...you should meet my family first? Or get to know each other? This is happening so fast I-"

"Soon." She vowed. "I trust you though. I think."

"I think so too." He uttered, soft lips pressing against hers. If this was wrong, why did he feel so right? Why did he feel so shaky, yet so bubbly inside.

This was one of his worst decisions. Why wasn't he stopping? He didn't know her. He didn't-

"It's a pretty good bad idea, isn't it though?" She smirked, stealing another tender kiss.

All he had to do was say no. That he couldn't put his family in danger.

Just say no.

Don't make the same mistake.

But he didn't want to.

"God yes."

~•~

His head felt foggy and tired, he hadn't gotten any closer to convincing Nova to stay but...he was alright. Leo hadn't had a chance to retreat to his bedroom before he was cornered by his taller brother. He hid his grimace with a forced grin.

"Donnie, I don't have time for this. I've got..."

"This'll only take a minute."

"Alright. What's up?"

"Did you really have trouble sleeping last night?" He asked, then jumped to a stronger conclusion.  "Or...did you not go to sleep at all?"

"Don't be stupid, Don, of course I went to bed." Leo said. "I just..." He raised his left arm casually, and his younger brother once again caught the scars littering. Worse, they looked fresh.

"Your arms..."

Leo flinched away. "It's nothing."

His dark eyes narrowed.

"Donnie?"

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Leo brushed him off, but Donnie wasn't about to give up. He grabbed a hold of his forearm, pulling him back, though Leo was unaffected by the sudden jerk of movement.

"What happened to your arm?" Donnie demanded bluntly. "And tell me the truth this time."

"Donnie, I'm really tired. I...just want to meditate for a spell. We can talk later." He hadn't meant to sound dismissive, but his tired tone and increasing frustration made it seem that way.

"How much longer are you going to keep avoiding us all, Leonardo?" Donnie asked weakly.

Leo hastily moved his arm out of the way. The hostile motion made Donnie recoil.  "I'm not."

"You keep shutting us all out. We aren't naive. We know you're stressed, but we're a family. We can help.  Don't you see? First with Karai, now..."

"This is nothing like Karai." Leo blurted out. "Nova isn't like her." When Donnie looked confused, he elaborated. "That's her name. The mutant."

"She did that to you." He said, referring to his injured arms. The dots were slowly connecting.

Silence. "Not on purpose."

"You told me you were going back to bed. You promised! And you went out and tried to fight that dangerous mutant alone? Are you crazy?"

"I was trying to protect you!" Leo snapped, temper rising, though his voice still felt oddly robotic. "It wasn't done out of a whim. I didn't try to find her for fun. I was protecting you and the others."

"By lying to us? Your family?"

"Fighting her was not an option. I wanted to persuade her to join our side. She wasn't too dangerous, just scared. And I didn't lie, I did go to bed. Just not when you did."

"Do the others know?" He was mainly referring to Raph, who he knew would be as furious as he was. Maybe even more so. Mikey would have been heartbroken had he knew that Leo was going behind their backs.

"No."

"Why? We could have gone together." 

The thought of Donnie watching Leo and Nova's last encounter made him blush profusely in horror.

"If we had gone as a group, it would have ended horribly. I needed to talk to her alone. I think..." He paused. "I think she's starting to trust me." His cheeks felt suddenly hot. He didn't want his brother to know that he had been out again, though this time with no moral intentions involved. The less Donnie knew, the better.

"Trust you?" Donnie repeated in disbelief. "You barely know her."

"You barely know her."  Leo retorted.  "You haven't even seen her. What could you possibly know?"

Those careless words set Donnie's rage into flames. "I know that you're my brother and she's hurt you, quite obviously!" Furious tears filled his eyes. "If you just listened to me- if we had a chance to go as a team, maybe she would have joined us. Willingly!" He took a deep breath. "I know what it's like to care about someone." His mind brought up sweet April, then the smirk of Casey Jones. "But it's so risky to do this. You've got to think logically. You're the leader."

Regret was hidden in his deep blue eyes, but he masked it with a scowl. "I didn't ask for this burden, to be lectured. Logic- inventions, all your science-y bullshit won't help us now. So stay out of my way. I know what I'm doing." The tone of his voice, mixed with his expressions were jarring and cold. Unlike the older, wiser brother Donatello had grown to admire as a hero.

Stunned and hurt by the harsh tone, Donnie blinked, taking a step back, as if he feared him.

Leo's eyes widened, immediately realizing his mistake. "Wait, Donnie I didn't mean-"

"Fine."

"Please, just let me-"

But as his older brother had done so many times before, Donnie dismissed his desperate pleas, stormed by him as the words flooded out of his ear slits and away from his mind.

 ~•~

The second Donnie climbed out of the manhole cover, he realized he had no idea where he was going. He knew the city by heart, sure, but he was never one to go topside for emotional reasons. Usually he locked himself in his lab. Now...he didn't know what to do or where to go. Each direction felt wrong. And the increasing feeling of wrongness calculated by the feeling of dread equaled an equation he didn't quite understand.

"I don't even know where to go..." He groaned. "I'm such an idiot." Wiping his tears, adjusting his staff, he kept walking the unknown direction, hoping to find an answer.

School had to be out, since the stars were already dotting the sky. Maybe he could swing by April's...

No, she was still living at the lair. How could he have forgotten? And he doubted her aunt would be thrilled to see a six foot tall turtle standing in front of her. That would only leave...

He stopped, looking at the cluster of apartment complexes. It would be risky, but he couldn't imagine going anywhere else. As he climbed the fire escape with ease, he had already made his decision.

As much as he longed for April's hugs or comforting words, he knew Jones was the best bet. So he carefully used his bō to tap lightly on the window, while still remaining hidden.

It swung open, and there was Casey Jones. Handsome, cocky, hair even messier than usual without its iconic black and white bandana holding it in place. He seemed ready to go to bed as he was dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms.

"The fuck?" He rubbed his eyes. "Donnie?"

"Hey there Jones." He mused, awkwardly rubbing his neck. "Is ...this a bad time?" He couldn't tell if Jones was simply tired or had been crying, since his eyes appeared too red and dusty.

"Nah, Riley's in bed." He confirmed. "Asleep."

"And your parents?"

Casey waved him off. "Hang on a sec," and he swung over the window to the metal fire escape. Climbing up the spare ladder casually, he glanced back at Donnie. "This place is more private." He was now perched on the roof, smirking. "You comin' or d'ya need an invitation?"

Donnie joined him, sitting on the ledge with their legs hanging over. "Is everything okay?"

"It's...fine, I guess." He chewed at his lip moodily. "Well not really. It's family bullshit."

He huffed a laugh. "Boy, do I know how that feels."

"I'm assuming you didn't just come here to chat. Something happen?"

Donnie nodded meekly.

"Hey, you don't need to tell me." Casey stared at his calloused hands. "I guess I can tell you what's been going on." He picked up a stone, flicking it across the roof. It fell loudly into a dumpster. Donnie winced. "My dad is a huge dick." He stated bluntly. "But it's complicated. Normally I'd talk with Raph about this but..."

"You don't have to..."

"Nah, it's chill. Here's the Cliff Notes version of it. Basically my dad decided to drop this major bomb on me n' Ri. That he proposed to Sara. His girlfriend." He made a vomit noise. "And I can't believe it."

"Is she not nice?" Donnie wondered.

"She's okay, I guess. No, but they haven't been dating that long and- I can't believe he decided to replace Riley's mom like that."

"Riley's mom? But you..."

"She's only my half sister. My real mom died forever ago. He was cheating on my mom with Riley's mom- Grace. He's a mess. It's all a mess."

"What happened to Grace?"

"Divorced her. Like I said, he's a dick." He looked back wearily. "Sorry, I know that was a lot. I'm not good at...dealing with my feelings but I shouldn't have dumped that on you with no warning."

"No, please don't apologize. I understand."

"Cool. So...your turn."

"My turn?"

"I just dramatically revealed my trauma. That shit doesn't come for free, yo. And I know you came here for a reason. So what is it? Because I think we're at that stage where we can talk about it. Whatever it is."

The purple masked turtle hesitated.

"There's only so many Electric Skullz albums we can talk about..."

Donnie took a deep breath, finally settling on revealing his troubles. "It was just an argument."

"With Raph?"

"No, Leo. He's been acting so strange lately. With the new mutant and everything. I think he likes her. As in, having feelings for her.  I swear, this is a Karai situation all over again." He frowned. "And then we started yelling and..." Head in his hands, he groaned. "It's troubling. He's been acting so distant and it's making me so ..."

Casey waited a moment for Donnie to find the word.

"Peeved."

"So, what you're saying is: it's all a mess."

Donnie laughed. "It sure is, Jones." Their shoulders bumped together. "Thanks for letting me vent."

"Hey, no worries. You let me rant, it's only fair. But I do know one thing for sure, families are complicated as fuck."

"Here here. But um, why did you bring me here again?" Donnie cocked his head to one side.

Casey stood up, hands on his hips. "Come on."

Donnie followed suit, raising a curious eyebrow. "And?"

"Start yelling."

"What?"

"Start. Yelling. It ain't rocket science. You're pissed off, I'm pissed off, so let it out! Go nuts!" 

"But it's night out."

"This is the city that never sleeps, genius. Look, I'll do it first."

He let out a loud, ear splitting bellow from above, hands spread out and wind hitting his cheeks. When he finished, he turned to Donnie eagerly.

"Go on."

Donnie exhaled. "If you say so..." And with that, he too joined in with the screaming. At first, it felt silly but then it surprisingly felt therapeutic. As if he was letting out his pent up frustrations with life.

"How'd that feel?" Casey moved closer to him until they were inches apart.

"It felt...good." Donnie admitted. "And you're sure no one can hear us?"

"Pshaw." Casey said smugly. "Anyone who does hear us will think we're a couple of drunks. I got ya, D." He took his hand in his, squeezing it. The difference between their hands- one large, green with three fingers. The other pale, smaller, five perfectly normal fingers. Casey didn't seem to mind.

"It doesn't solve our problems though." Donnie said.

"No, but it releases a little tension. I've done this with my friends a lot from the hockey team whenever we lose. Which rarely happens, but on that off chance we do? We scream. Fuck the system!"

"You ...consider me like one of your human friends?"

Casey's hazel eyes squinted back at him, as if he was confused by the question. "Of course. Why wouldn't you be? We're friends."

"But I'm..."

"Don't." Casey stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips. "I don't say this to just anyone, okay? But you're a cool dude, Donnie. And the smartest guy I know."

Donnie swallowed. "Jones I..."

"You're perfect the way you are, you hear me? Don't go moping around. It's a little sad to watch." He punched his shoulder affectionately. "Alright?" He looked back into Donnie's mahogany eyes.

"Alright." He nodded, now fully aware how close they were. He stopped himself from staring too hard at Casey's individual freckles, dotting his cheeks like a galaxy of stars. Or his deep hazel eyes, or his perfect peach lips...

An embrace felt too forward, so Donnie simply smiled, revealing his adorable gap. Casey's heart warmed, loving every time he saw that smile. He wasn't lying. He thought Donnie was beautiful in his own way. Turtle or not. As beautiful as April, maybe but in a different way. He wanted to stay the entire night, watching the stars with him.

"I promised Mikey I'd hang with him." Donnie remembered.

"Oh," His eyes looked down, disappointed. "I can walk you there? It's getting kinda late."

"Sure."

"Listen, um, Donnie...there's something you gotta know..."

There was a rustling noise behind them. Donnie froze. "Shut up."

"Excuse me? Did you just tell Casey Jones to shut up?"

"Shut up!" He hissed. "Someone's listening. You idiot, we shouldn't have been screaming our heads off!"

Casey mumbled a curse under his breath.

"Ah, so you are the clever one. Good to know." An unfamiliar voice snarled.

"Who said that?" Casey yelled, grabbing his trusty hockey stick and taser. Donnie gripped his own bō tightly.

"How cute."

Out of the shadows approached the two boys. A mutant reptile at least twenty feet in length with massive yellow eyes staring them down.

"Jones?"

"Yeah, Donnie?"

"I think we found the mutant."

[sneezyminniejo]

I would like to request a sick Taehyung as a stomach bug

This got away from me a little bit, so I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy

Tw emeto

Tubby Custard

Taehyung was absolutely miserable. He had woken up in the middle of the night feeling like absolute crap. His stomach was cramping and it was making him feel incredibly nauseous. He needed some sort of relief quickly, but has never been good with taking medicine, liquid, tablet, or otherwise. He could really only take medicine if it was mixed in with food, so he went to get himself something simple to make. Lucky for him, he made sure they kept stock of vanilla pudding. Primarily for this purpose.

Unfortunately or fortunately for Taehyung, his stomach threatened to empty itself just as he was passing the bathroom. He quickly ran to the toilet and got the lid up just as his body began heaving. He ended up puking for a solid minute or so before his stomach calmed down.

Taehyung knew he was sick, but also knew he needed to take his temperature. Using the counter to support himself, he got up to look through the cabinets. He stuck the thermometer in his mouth as soon as he found it and sank to the floor, as he didn't have enough energy to stand after puking.

He began to doze off just as the thermometer beeped, but his brain was far too fogged up for him to properly read the numbers. Just as he was about to call for one of his hyungs or Jungkook to help him, his stomach contracted somewhat violently. Taehyung didn't have enough warning to even try to get back to the toilet which was only like a foot away. He ended up puking sitting right where he was all over himself.

Yoongi had stayed later than he should have at the genius lab, and was just now returning home. He couldn’t help but notice that someone had left the bathroom light on, and when he went to go turn it off, he was met with the sight of Taehyung sitting in a pile of his own sick looking absolutely exhausted and confused.

Taking another glance at the younger was all Yoongi needed to know that Taehyung had a fever. It was just a matter of knowing how high. Instead of going for the oral thermometer that was also sitting in Taehyung's pile of sick, Yoongi went for their infrared thermometer. A quick scan told him that the fever was pretty high, and since the younger needed a bath anyway, he filled the tub up with lukewarm water.

"Tae-ah, I'm going to get you cleaned up. Do you need help getting undressed?" Taehyung barely registered the question and replied, "Hyung, I don't feel good." Yoongi took that as confirmation and started to help Taehyung get undressed . Taehyung's temp seemed to go down a bit and he appeared more coherent. At least enough to realize that one of his hyungs was bathing him.

"Thank you Yoongi-hyung" Yoongi smiled at that. "You're welcome tae. Can you tell me what happened?" Taehyung nodded. "I woke up feeling sick, so I went to get some medicine, but before I got to the kitchen I puked." Yoongi nodded at that then quickly went to grab some clean clothes for the sick boy. When he returned he helped Taehyung get dressed and then brought him to the couch.

"Okay Taehyung-ah, I need to get some medicine in you, I'll be right back." Yoongi quickly went to the kitchen and was greeted by Namjoon who was filling a bucket up with soap and water.

"Hey hyung, I was coming here to get a drink of water and noticed that someone got sick in the bathroom. I decided to clean it up then check on the members. Do you know what happened?" Yoongi nodded.

"I think Taehyung has some kind of stomach bug. He's got a fever and told me he woke up feeling sick and was on his way to look for some medicine. My main priority has been cleaning him up and getting him set up on the couch. Thanks for cleaning it up Namjoon-ah"

Namjoon nodded "no problem hyungs, I'll call the managers when it's a more reasonable hour." Namjoon went off to clean the bathroom.

Yoongi went back to the living room with the medicine, and was frustratingly met with resistance from the younger. "Taehyung. You need to take these meds to make you feel better. You even said you were looking for medicine when you got sick." Taehyung just shook his head "no meds unless I have tubby custard."

Yoongi was very confused at that statement. "Tae-ah, what do you mean by tubby custard?" Taehyung opened his mouth to answer, but instead quickly grabbed the trash can and began puking.

Yoongi didn't think he'd get much of a response from Taehyung after that so he went to see if Namjoon might know what tubby custard is seeing as he's the leader. " Namjoon-ah, Taehyung says that he'll only take his medicine with tubby custard. Do you have any clue what that means?"

Namjoon chuckled a little and paused his cleaning before answering. "I don't know the specifics of why, but I know that Taehyung has always had trouble taking medicine and told me one day that he puts it in vanilla pudding and calls it tubby custard. He had a pretty bad fever when he told me that, so I don't know if he remembers. Just put his meds in vanilla pudding and give it to him."

Yoongi was now extremely curious about the why, but figured it could wait until after medication has been consumed. He easily found the pudding and began making the tubby custard, being simultaneously glad that he doesn't have to try to get the younger to eat but also worried that he won't keep it down.

Yoongi now had two cups of pudding. The one with the fever reducer had tinged orange, and the one with the stomach medication had turned pink. He personally would never eat this but if it would make his dongsaeng feel better, so be it. "Tae-ah, I have two things of tubby custard for you to eat." Yoongi set the cups on the coffee table and watched Taehyung closely.

Taehyung wasn't quite ready to take any medicine yet. He was going to throw up again soon and wanted it to happen before he ate. As the nauseous feeling began to grow, he could feel saliva build up in his mouth. He quickly grabbed the trash can again and hiccuped a couple times before gagging rather productively. He could see Yoongi cringe in his periphery, but nonetheless the older began rubbing his back. It was another several moments before Taehyung deemed himself empty and pushed the can away a little. He grabbed one of the pudding cups and began eating.

"Are you sure you're okay to be eating Tae?" Taehyung nodded, "yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm done puking for a little bit." Yoongi wasn't entirely convinced, but didn't really respond because Taehyung probably knows his body the best. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he asked about the food choice.

"So, Tae-ah what's with the whole tubby custard thing?" Taehyung pondered for a moment before explaining. "When I was a kid I couldn't really take tablets without choking on them, and the flavor of the liquid stuff frequently made puke or come really close to puking. One day my mom decided to see what would happen if she mixed my meds into pudding. I was really reluctant at first to take anything, because I didn't want to feel worse than I already was. I was also really obsessed with teletubbies at the time, so my mom told me it was tubby custard." Taehyung then grabbed the second cup and began eating it. After a moment Taehyung grinned, "at least that's what my folks told me when I asked them why we always called it tubby custard."

Yoongi didn't feel comfortable leaving Taehyung on the couch by himself, so he decided to stay up with the younger. He also went about sending a message in the group chat so that the more squeamish members wouldn't be caught off guard if Taehyung started puking around them. He turned on the TV and made sure the volume was low, then cleaned out the trash can before making himself comfortable on the couch next to the sickie.

At some point the duo had fallen asleep and were awoken a couple hours later by Seokjin. He gave both of them some rice porridge he had made after seeing the text regarding the sick member.

While Taehyung had kept down the medicine pudding concoction while he slept, he was overcome with an intense feeling of nausea when he was woken up. It was almost as if his stomach had gone to sleep. In his sleepy haze, he had forgotten that the trash can was right next and moved to get up with his hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

He didn't get much farther than standing up before he was pulled back down and the trash can placed directly in front of him. A split second later an almost projectile stream of vomit came out of his mouth and spilled into the can. Yoongi began to rub the younger man's back and could feel that the fever reducer only helped a little bit if at all. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was too early for another dose of medicine. As Taehyung gave one final heave into the can, Hoseok and Namjoon walked into the room looking rather irritated.

“So I have good news and bad news.” Namjoon started, “I got the majority of Taehyung’s schedule cancelled today, so he can take it easy for the most part.” Namjoon paused, but before he could continue, Hoseok interjected. “Manager-nim says the dance instructor is very strict about attendance and unless you’re in the hospital, you have to show up.” Taehyung and the others groaned at this because under no circumstances should Taehyung be leaving the dorm unless he were going to the doctor.

Jungkook, who had heard everything from the kitchen, popped his head around the corner, with a somewhat maniacal grin on his face. “So the dance instructor is going to have to deal with two sick members? One knowingly and the other unknowingly?” Everyone looked confused before Jimin returned the same maniacal grin. He went to help get Taehyung’s things together and simply said one phrase to get the others on the same page. “You know how Hoseok-hyung gets around puking.”

The seven members made sure to put Taehyung and Hoseok in separate vehicles on the way to the company, but were all a little pleased about the unintentional comeuppance the dance instructor was about to get. By the time they got to the dance studio, Taehyung was essentially dead on his feet. The instructor took one look at him and told him to stay on the sidelines for the duration of practice. Yoongi made sure to place the trash can within arms reach of the younger and went to join the others.

The first two songs went rather uneventfully. However on the third song, Taehyung began to feel the all too familiar sensation of his stomach churning. He quickly positioned his head over the trash can and began gagging. It wasn’t long before Jimin took note of his fellow 95 liner and he went over to comfort him until the bout of vomiting passed.

It was only a couple of moments before the sound of liquid splashing into the plastic bin could just barely be heard over the music. The instructor decided that the vomiting was interfering too much with keeping count with the beat of the music. This turned out to be a mistake on the instructor's part, but worked well for the other six members. As the vomiting became much more audible, Hoseok went to drink some water in hopes of staving off his own episode as much as possible.

Taehyung leaned away from the can when he deemed himself empty enough. The instructor gave him a look and asked him if he was done. Taehyung nodded and Hoseok continued their plan. "You know what, I'm not feeling too well either. I think it would be best if we just called it a day." Hoseok told the instructor, hoping that they would get turned off at the prospect of having two contagious sick men in the room.

It turned out the instructor didn't really care and said that Hoseok looked fine so they turned the music back on. Hoseok managed to keep his own stomach in check for considerably longer than he was expecting. He made it about halfway through the do over of the current song before he couldn't hold back anymore and he wound up bent at the waist puking all over the floor.

Jimin quickly turned off the music again while Seokjin went to alert the janitorial staff. Meanwhile Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook packed up everyone's bags and helped the two sickies out of the room. Namjoon made it quite clear to the instructor that they wouldn't be doing dance practice with at least two members down and quickly texted the manager that Hoaeok had fallen ill during the dance practice.

When the seven members arrived back at the dorm, Yoongi went to the kitchen while the others got Taehyung and Hoseok settled on the couch. Hoseok's stomach was still hurting a little from throwing up and Taehyung looked about ready to pass out.

Before Taehyung could fall asleep, Yoongi returned with a tray of three pudding cups. One orange and two pink. "Tae-ah, I have some more tubby custard for you." He placed the tray on the coffee table and gave the orange cup and one of the pink ones to Taehyung. He ate both with no complaint, then fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Once Taehyung was fast asleep, Yooongi gave the other cup to Hoseok. "Seok-ah eat it, it'll help your stomach a bit. Hoseok looked completely skeptical. "Hyung, no offense, but what the hell is tubby custard and how will this help my stomach?" Yoongi just chuckled. "Tubby custard is just medicine mixed in with pudding. It's Tae's preferred way of getting medicine. In your case, I mixed Pepto bismol into the pudding. It'll help calm you stomach a little and give it a little bit of protection if you get sympathy sick again. I also made you a cup because I know you don't particularly like drinking medicine." Hoseok nodded, still a little skeptical, but ate it nonetheless.

The members took it easy for the rest of the day. Seeing as Hoseok was easily able to remove himself from the room when Taehyung got sick, he did not get sympathy sick again. Thankfully Taehyung hadn't gotten sick for the rest of the day, but he did get sick the following morning. They also continued the ruse of Hoseok having caught the bug to keep the dance instructor off their manager's back until Taehyung was fully recovered.

[thorongil82]

Forgotten But Not Gone CH2

Fandom: Pokémon

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter (Cumulative) Word Count: 8,548 (14,179)

Can also be read on AO3 and FFN

Chapter Summary: The invitations have been sent, and Seishi must get their preparations in order.

AN: I'll just address a couple of things: Firstly, I was aware after sending the last chapter that the Frontier Brains in Platinum are the same as the ones in HG/SS. Think it just slipped my mind. But, I'm not rectifying that, and I'll just use some other characters and/or make some OCs to fill those spots. Nothing overly major, just addressing my mistake. 

Also, fair warning, a decent amount of this chapter is going to be exposition. And it's a longer chapter. Mainly we'll be going over some stuff for the tournament, along with characters appearing in the story. However, you will get your first look at all the Gym Leaders and Elite Four members of Seishi, along with the Champion. There's also another new character in as well. I'll leave a list for them at the end.

Well, that should be it. So, read on, and enjoy!

-----

“Now, Starmie, finish it with Water Pulse!” orders a female trainer with honey-orange hair, wearing a white and blue trimmed one-piece swimsuit with a light blue jacket thrown over the top.

The purple ten-legged starfish Pokémon crackles in acknowledgement as it leaps up into the air. A solid blue ball of energy forms in front of its shiny red gem, before launching through the air with trail of water spraying out behind it. The aqua orb collides with a flying chestnut brown and white feathered Pokémon arcing round in the air.

“Pi-Pirrrrrr!” the Pokémon cries out as the impact causes an explosion, before it crashes down to the water stage below.

“Pidgeotto is unable to battle!” a woman with long golden flowing hair calls out as the dual Normal-and-Flying type Pokémon lies still on the floating platform atop the pool of water, with spirals in its eyes. She raises her right hand up towards to the red haired trainer and her Starmie. “Starmie is the winner! So the victor is the Cerulean Gym Leader, Misty!”

“Alright!” Misty cheers with a giggle, pumping her fist in the air. “Good job, Starmie.”

The dual Water-and-Psychic Pokémon, rolls round on its legs to face her, its red gem lighting up as it beeps out a reply.

“Good job, Pidgeotto,” her challenger says with a small smile as she pulls out a Pokéball, a red light shooting out from it and engulfing Pidgeotto before it disappears inside. “We'll do better next time.”

The challenger then turns to Misty and bows, as the Gym Leader dives off of her podium into the pool below. She swims over to the other side in the time it takes the other trainer to walk down the stairs for her podium, and gets back out to head over.

“I'm going to go and train some more, and I'll come back another day,” the challenger says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Misty replies as she bundles up some of her hair and rings it out.

“I'll win next time!” she says as she takes off, waving behind her.

“Come back anytime,” Misty calls out as she disappears, before turning to her Starmie. “Why don't you have a swim?”

Starmie beeps out once before rolling into the pool with a splash. With a giggle, she also pulls out two more Pokéballs from her now wet jacket and enlarges them, before releasing a Seaking and a Quagsire into the pool.

“Why don't you both have a nice swim too? You all battled really hard.”

The two let out their own joyous cries before swimming off.

“You've definitely gotten stronger over the years, sis,” the blonde haired judge says as she hobbles over to the Gym Leader, leaning heavily on a crutch held in her right hand, taking the brunt of the weight that would have otherwise been placed on her right leg, also supported by a knee brace and strapping wrapping by the ankle.

“I … I guess,” Misty meekly replies as her eyes dropping down to look at the injured leg before darting away.

“Hey, it's getting better,” she says with a smile, placing a hand on Misty's shoulder. “Slowly but surely, and soon we'll be back to a full trio of Sensational Sisters.”

“Trio? There's four of us, Daisy, not three,” Misty points out, her brow furrowed.

“Hey, I only said you've gotten stronger. There's still a lot more you need to work on before you can even consider being sensational,” Daisy retorts with a wink and a slight poke out of the tip of her tongue.

“And yet I could still beat all three of you,” Misty jabs back with a growl, only for the pair of them to devolve into a fit of giggles.

“There's that fire we love,” Daisy smiles warmly, as they both settle down. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah … thanks, sis.”

“Hey! Misty!” another female voice calls out from direction of the entrance, before a woman looking very similar to both Misty and Daisy, with shiny fuchsia hair with two curly strands hanging down the side of her face, while the rest is scrunched up in a bun at the back, runs in, waving her hand above her head with a letter clenched in her other hand. She's quickly followed in by another similar looking woman, with long flowing indigo hair, who rushes over carrying another crutch in her arms.

“Some guy just came round with a letter for you,” the latter says as she hands the second crutch to Daisy, helping her as she gets her hand through the ring and gripped onto the handle.

“For me?” Misty asks.

“Yeah,” the former answers as she hands the letter over. “Oh, and can you and your Pokémon clear out the pool? Violet and I need to rehearse our routine for our next show.”

“You can wait a little longer until I've read this, Lily!” huffs Misty as she looks over the envelope.

“Hmph! Meanie,” Lily pouts, crossing her arms across her chest and turning her head away in faux anger.

“Come on, Lily, we can let her Pokémon have a bit of a swim,” Violet interjects.

“Fine,” grumbles Lily, “but we better not miss out on a big break because we're under-prepared.”

Misty rolls her eyes and turns the envelope over, her eyes widening slightly at the seal holding the envelope shut. Stamped into the blood red wax is an inscribed Pokéball with a trophy behind it, and a Moltres behind the trophy with flaming wings spread out.

“It's from the Pokémon League,” Misty mutters out loud, just strong enough for all her sisters to hear. “Wonder what they want ...”

-----

In a large room sitting high up in Lumiose City's Prism Tower, a short girl with light blonde hair, braided up at the front ending in a large bun on the left hand side that's bound with a scrunchie designed like a ring of flower petals, with the rest falling down her back to her waist, wearing a crimson jacket tied at the front with an orange ribbon, with a creamy white blouse underneath, and a short black skirt, hops onto the cluttered workbench. Her rose pink satchel bounces next to her as she lands down, the impact jostling a couple of the mechanical components resting on the bench, as she looks at an older glasses wearing man with the same coloured hair, clad in a grimy teal lab coat with a yellow horizontal stripe across the front, looks down at the letter in his hand.

“Come on, Clemont! she whines, ignoring the clattering as a robot looking similar to the man shuffles around the rest of the room, cleaning up the many mechanical components, processors, tools and metallic parts. “What does it say?!”

“I have to open it first, Bonnie,” Clemont mentions as he breaks the seal on the envelope, opening up the letter.

The room falls silent for a moment, save for the clattering caused as Clembot continues shuffling throughout the room, picking out the scattered mess and sorting it apart. Bonnie sighs as she waits for her brother, tapping her fingers against the bench.

“No way!” Clemont suddenly exclaims, causing his sister to jump in shock and fall off the worktable.

“What? What is it?” she asks, the flap on her satchel flipping open as a tiny yellow Pokémon pops its head out, antennae sticking out from the red sacks on its cheeks sparking with electricity.

“De-Ne?”

“The Pokémon Masters League is on this year!” Clemont exclaims, shaking slightly as he looks at her, only to be met with a blank look.

“The what?”

“The Pokémon Masters League! It's a prestigious tournament held every twenty years!” he says, standing up as he starts to pace around the room.

“Do you know what he's talking about, Dedenne?”

“Ne-nne,” Dedenne replies with the shake of its head.

“Is this some sort of tournament for strong trainers?” Clembot asks as it walks over, the cleaning forgotten as its curiosity is peaked.

“Not just strong trainers! It's for the strongest of the strongest!”

“Awesome!” Bonnie shouts as Clemont's words finally seem to hit home. “Of course they'd invite you if they were after the strongest trainers in the world. They'd be fools not to invite the Light of Lumiose City.”

“Well, some people, like Gym Leaders, automatically qualify for the tournament,” Clemont chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, even if they didn't, you'd still qualify with flying colours, I'm sure of it,” Bonnie insists, accompanied by a nod from Clembot.

“Indeed, sir. You're certainly one of the finest battlers I've ever seen.”

“Oh, I don't know about that …”

-----

“Remind me what I'm doing here?” a woman, with a long jet black ponytail with violet highlights in her hairline, down the right side of her hair, and the tip of her ponytail, asks as she looks towards the other two women sitting at their round table placed outside a café in Viridian City.

The woman who had asked the question is dressed in a plain white sleeveless shirt and a pair of black jeans held up with a worn brown leather belt. The woman to her left has sweeping shoulder length charcoal black hair that curls out at the base of her neck, while wearing a spaghetti string tank top that bares her lean midriff, a pair of long clean white pants, and a pair of thick and weighty looking black and glowing seafoam green bracelets on her wrists. The pale skinned woman to her right has rounded black hair, with cut bangs held back by a cherry red headband, and is wrapped up in a dandelion yellow kimono with tangerine maple leaves falling around the trim, tied off with a cherry red obi.

“I figured you wouldn't have heard about this,” the woman to her left explains. “It's only this time that your home region has been included in the festivities.”

“Along with Alola,” the kimono wearing woman adds, blinking as if she had just woken up before sighing and slumping back in her seat.

“Yes, but that's to be expected, as both regions didn't have a league during the last tournament. And it's being held in Seishi. So, maybe you could give us an idea of what your home is like, Jade?”

“No idea,” Jade sighs as she takes a sip from the cup of tea in front of her. “Left five years ago, haven't been back. Could have changed a lot.”

“Now why don't I believe you?” the tank top wearing woman asks, crossing her legs over one another, pressing her elbow onto the top leg and placing her hand under her chin.

“Because you can't trust anything that hasn't been checked by your powers?” Jade jabs back with a raised eyebrow, getting a smirk in response. “Besides, why don't you just use your powers to look into the future, Miss Psychic Mistress?”

“My foresight ability is somewhat limited,” she explains. “Besides, more fun to have things happen without knowing it beforehand.”

“Whatever. Why don't you start your history lesson that you've worked so hard on before we …?”

Both look over to their kimono wearing companion, who appears to be looking off vacantly, her gaze locked onto a point somewhere near the tank top wearing woman. Jade sighs as she leans back in her seat.

“Too late. We've lost her.”

“Erika, is something the matter?” the tank top wearer questions.

“... Huh? O-Oh, no, sorry,” the kimono clad woman absently answers as she shakes herself back to reality, her eyes losing their glassy sheen and returning to focus. “I'm just still a bit amazed by your wardrobe change, Sabrina.”

The sudden confession has the table quiet for a beat before a snort comes from Jade, followed by an almost unnoticeable curl of the corners of her mouth. The Saffron City Gym Leader, on the other hand, just looks at her Celadon City counterpart with a deadpan expression.

“I mean, before you used to dress up so conservatively,” Erika continues on, oblivious to the reactions of her fellow Gym Leaders as her voice gains a cheery mirth. “But now you look so cute and casual. And you even freshened your hair up. It really does suit this 'Psychic Mistress' image you've been showing off now.”

“L-Look, can we just get back on track with the Masters League, instead of focusing on my … complete … style … change …” Sabrina manages to strangle out, folding her arms over her exposed  midriff and turning her head away, a light rosy tint dusting across her cheeks.

“I'm sure you've gotten a lot more attention thanks to this too,” Erika continues on, showing no sign that she had heard Sabrina's suggestion. “I must say, it's nice to see how much you've … grown … up …”

Erika's voice trails as she feels a hand on her left shoulder. She turns to her left, finding nothing there save for the disconnected floating purple hand lingering on her shoulder. Her skin manages to get even paler as a strained whimper sounds out from the back of her throat.

“HAUNTER!!!” a voice bellows from her other side, causing her to shriek and jump out of her seat, falling on the ground. Sabrina, despite trying to keep it smothered with her hand, lets a little giggle escape through her fingers at Haunter's antics, while the Ghost Pokémon laughs loudly at the result of its joke.

“O-Okay, please continue,” Erika says a little shakily as she gets back into her chair, dusting off her kimono.

“So, you both know how if a challenger beats all the Gym Leaders and wins that region's conference that they're allowed to enter the Champions League to take on the Elite Four and the Champion?”

“Is that meant to be a shot at me?” Jade asks with a glare.

“Not at all, just where I'm starting,” Sabrina mentions, unperturbed by the sharp glare burning onto her skin.

“Right …”

“Well, the Pokémon League wanted to give other trainers a chance to become a Pokémon Master if they competed well enough across different conferences. Their reasoning was that just because a trainer won a conference didn't automatically make them the strongest trainer overall, nor did it mean that if you finished in the Top 4 that you were one of the four strongest trainers competing."

“So, sixty years ago, the first Masters League was created,” Jade intervenes with a bored tone, getting a look from Sabrina. “To prove which trainers were the strongest of the strong, the Gym Leaders from all competing regions, along with the Elite Four members and the Champions, would be thrown into the mix along with the trainers that had won conferences, trainers that had consistently proven themselves in multiple conferences, and others who were recognised to be powerful trainers in their own right by a selecting committee. Every twenty years the event is held, in a different region, and the winner has the right to be known as the greatest Pokémon Master in the world.”

“So, you do know all about it,” Sabrina says.

“Force of habit,” Jade replies with a shrug as she takes another drink from her tea.

“Haun Haunter,” Haunter moans, holding out a flower to Erika as it looks down to the floor.

“Oh, is this for me, Haunter?” she asks.

“Haunter,” the Gas Pokémon nods.

“How sweet,” Erika smiles and reaches out for the flower, only to let out a shriek as the flower opens up and sprays a stream of water out into her face.

“Hau Hau Hau!” Haunter cackles, covering his mouth with his floating hands.

“Haunter,” Sabrina warns sternly.

Haunter continues to cackle wildly at the prank, spiralling around in the air jovially. That is, until it comes to a sudden stop as a cloud of dark flickering purple smoke circulates around it. The gas Pokémon pulls out a handkerchief seemingly from out thin air and starts fanning it out. And yet, the air pushing out does nothing to disperse the spontaneous smoke.

“H-Haun …” Haunter murmurs nervously, head swivelling around as the smoke starts to manifest into ominous spectres of indigo mass and flickering violet flames.

Haunter throws up his hands and starts to float away, only to be followed by the spectres no matter where he goes. Sabrina and Erika both watch this strange sight, as Haunter frantically flies rings through the air with the spectres never losing any ground, before the former looks over towards the Leader of the Viridian City Gym, who is very calmly drinking her tea as if nothing unusual is happening.

“Could you call off your friend?” Sabrina asks.

“No idea what you're talking about,” Jade replies.

-----

“So, this is a tournament for all the strongest trainers in the world, right?” a man with shaggy grape purple hair, dressed in a navy blue and black jacket with a cobalt shirt underneath, and a pair of indigo cargo pants, asks as he looks into a video phone in a Pokémon Centre located in Sinnoh's famed Fight Area.

“That's right,” answers a similar looking man on the other side, his long dark purple hair drawn back into a ponytail, wearing a long sleeved coral shirt with a seafoam green apron over the top.

“So, does that include the Battle Frontier?”

“Well, I don't believe the Battle Frontier was set up when the last tournament took place, though I know Brandon, Palmer and Argenta were invited. They all got pretty far, too.”

The man on the other side of the video call drops his head slightly and pulls up a letter into view of the bottom of the screen, as his eyes read across the page.

“However, they are saying that the Frontier Brains have been invited,” he notes.

“Good, so we get another shot at defeating Brandon.”

“Slow down, Paul,” the man on the screen chuckles as he notes the cold fire burning in his eyes. “There's no guarantee that you'll get matched up with him. And besides, you're challenging Palmer's Battle Tower first, right? If you're too focused on a future battle, you'll end up having more trouble with the battle before it. And Palmer is a trainer you'll want your complete focus on to stand a chance.”

“You didn't tell me you'd faced him before, Reggie,” Paul says, getting a slight chuckle in response.

“Well, this was before I stepped away from battling,” his older brother points out as he rubs the back of his neck, “and I'm certain he's gotten even stronger since then. So watch out.”

“It doesn't matter how strong he is. All that matters is that we beat him.”

“Well, that's certainly one way to think about it,” Reggie says with a sweat drop. “You know, that sounds a lot like something Ash would say, instead of you.”

“Well, if the strongest trainers in the world are going to be competing, then there's no way he'll miss competing in Seishi. I'll get to settle the score with him too.”

“Paul, focus on Palmer first,” Reggie sternly suggests.

“R-Right.”

-----

“Well, Forrest, I hope you've been keeping up with your training on your journey,” a man with dark skin and spiky hair, wearing a white doctor's coat over an orange shirt and brick red pants, says as his squinty eyes over from the letter to the video phone where a similar, if not younger, looking man is being projected to the room full of nine other people – six male and three female – who look virtually identical, save for the differences in hair colour and the hairstyles of the women, and another woman with a fairer complexion and wider eyes who is sitting on the arm rest of a recliner next to the eldest in the room, with wrinkles on his face and dark grey hair.

“Of course I have, Brock …” Forrest starts, “but I'm not sure if I'll compete.”

“What are you talking about?!” Brock says as he jumps out of his seat,  the letter crumpling slightly in his hand. “This is a great honour!”

“Well, it's just, I've been on my journey to find what it is I want to do,” Forrest explains. “I'm not sure if I have that answer yet, and I don't think it's fair for me to represent the Pewter Gym if I'm not committed to being the Gym Leader right now.”

“Well, what do we do?” one of the girls, with her spiky chocolate brown hair pulled back into a shaggy ponytail.

“Personally, I think you should represent the gym, Brock,” Forrest suggests.

“Me?”

“Why not?” the male of the youngest twins, Billy, speaks up. “Forrest took over while you were away, and then when you were studying.”

“Yeah, and you were the one that took over when Forrest left for his journey,” the other twin, Tilly, continues on, tilting her head at the eldest of the Harrison children.

“Not to mention that he went on his journey because you suggested it, dear,” Lola, the mother and the most unique looking person in the room, adds on.

“By all rights, you're still the Pewter Gym Leader,” Forrest finishes.

“Except that you're still the official Leader, in the League's eyes,” Brock retorts to his brother. “We put in that transfer when I went off to study to be a doctor.”

“That won't be a problem,” Flint, the older man and father of the large family, speaks up.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“If you keep reading, a ruling is that if anyone holding a position with the Pokémon League is unable to compete, they can nominate a substitute if they're deemed to be strong enough,” the Harrison father explains. “It's only been used twice in the three times the Masters League has been held, but it is possible. But even then, we wouldn't need to use that rule.”

“Why not?” Brock asks, his brow furrowing in confusion, along with several of his siblings.

“Why don't you take another look at that envelope, Brock?” his mother suggests. Brock nods and takes up the opened envelope that he left face down on the table in the middle of the room, before turning it over.

“It's addressed to me?” Brock reads, his brow rising as his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“Dad and I put in a request to make you the official Gym Leader while I was away,” Forrest explains.

“You both did that?!” the Pokémon doctor asks, getting a nod from both his father and brother. “And when were you going to tell me?!”

“It wouldn't have changed anything,” Flint defends. “Even without knowing it, you've still ran the gym as if you were official.”

“And you're a far stronger trainer than I am,” Forrest adds on. “I'd much rather have you representing us all than myself.”

“Hmm …” Brock sighs as he sits down, losing himself in thought.

“Well, Brock, what do you say? Are you going to accept the invitation?”

-----

“Hey, Dad, does it say what a trainer has to do to qualify?” a teenage boy with combed pine green hair, wearing an emerald green jacket with a beige undershirt, and grey shorts, asks, glancing over through his glasses at the man sitting down on a blue couch, while he keeps brushing the white fur of the Vigaroth sleeping in front of it.

“Well, Max, trainers don't qualify, in that sense,” the father, a man with short pebble black hair, dressed in a crimson red jacket with a soot black trim, and denim blue jeans, explains, an arm draped across the back of the couch. “The only real way to qualify is to win a conference. Beyond that, it's really down to the committee overseeing the selections for each region.”

“But they must have some way to determine who is the strongest, right?” a woman sitting in a matching blue recliner asks. She's dressed in a sleeveless tangerine tunic with a large folded black collar, a long white stripe down the front and two white pockets on her hips, along with a pair of slim black cycling shorts and a mint green pack strapped round her waist. She also has a pair of white gloves with black fingers and a pair of black wristbands with a green stripe going round, while her bronze brown hair – parted into two tails – is wrapped up in a mint green and snow white bandanna.

“In a way,” he replies. “There are certain conditions that are recommended for trainers to have met.”

“... and they are?” she asks, the two children looking towards their father, the Petalburg City Gym Leader Norman.

“Well, beyond winning a conference, it's recommended you finish within the Top 2 twice in a row, the Top 4 on four consecutive occasions, the Top 8 six times in a row, or the Top 16 on eight consecutive occasions,” Norman explains. “Beyond that, there can be other factors taken into account, such as the amount of conferences you've competed in, the trainers you lost to in a conference, and when you started out.”

“Guess I didn't make the cut then,” Max mopes, his entire posture slumping forwards dejectedly. “I only finished four times in the Top 16, from five conferences, and my best was a Top 8 finish in Kanto and Unova.”

“Well, you could still get in,” his sister says brightly, trying to encourage him. “You've only been in five conferences, remember? And you've been eliminated by a runner up and a winner as well. That could be taken into your consideration.”

“Maybe …” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the floor and definitely away from Norman, fearing any possible expression that could cross his face. Max jolts up a little as he suddenly feels a hand rest on his shoulder, looking over to see the hand belonging to his sister.

“I'm sure it's just late, 'kay?” she says with a smile and a wink, hiding her other slightly shaking hand hidden behind her back.

“Yeah … Yeah!” Max pipes up cheerfully, his spirits raising by the second. He hums for a second, before pausing and looking over at his father. “Hey, Dad? There's something else I'm not sure about.”

“What is it, Max?”

“Well … I get why you got an invitation, seeing as you're a Gym Leader. But …”

He turns and looks over to the second opened letter in the room, a letter which both his sister and father's eyes are drawn to. A letter that was placed down in front of where his sister had been sitting.

“... do you know why May got an invite as well?”

-----

“It says that they're also considering and inviting coordinators that have fit the same recommendations in Grand Festivals as other strong trainers in Conference Leagues,” a messy orange-red haired woman reads off of a letter, dressed in a magenta woolly jumper with an orange vest over the top, with a faded pair of jeans on her legs. A pair of thin rimmed sunglasses sits atop her head, while around her left wrist is a bubblegum pink Pokétch with a white strap. A Glameow lies on her lap, softly purring away contently as it receives some small scratches from her trainer.

“Huh … I wonder why …” another woman ponders as she looks at her own letter. This one has long royal blue hair tucked within a pearl white beanie with a pink Pokéball print on the front. She wears a black v-neck tank top, with a white shirt underneath, and a pink mini skirt. Wrapped around her right wrist is a thin bracelet, along with a Pokétch on her left wrist identical to her friend's.

“I would guess it has to do with determining what makes a powerful trainer,” a third woman says as she walks in, holding a tray filled with cookies, a steaming tea pot and three tea cups. The third woman, quite a few years older than the other two, though not looking it, has a large round bob of royal blue hair held in place thanks to a red hair clip. She wears a white shirt with long sleeves, with a peach and red apron tied around her waist, and a pair of aegean blue capris underneath.

“Really, mum?” the second of the women asks as the latter sets down the tea set.

“Well, who's to say that a Coordinator can't be a strong trainer?” the mother responds as she starts to pour out cups of tea for the three of them. “In the past, it was kept to trainers who were competing in regional conferences to be invited to the Masters League.”

“But now, they're realising that a Coordinator can be just as strong a trainer as anyone else,” the first woman finishes as she catches on to the mother's point.

“Yeah, but our battles aren't necessarily about just knocking out our opponents,” the second interjects as she takes the cup of tea that's offered to her.

“That just means you have a different battling style to the rest,” the mother replies as she hands off another cup of tea, before taking the last cup and sitting down in a nice plush chair.

“Thanks, Johanna,” the first woman offers with a nod as she takes a sip of the heated aromatic liquid.

“You're welcome, Zoey,” she hums, before returning to the topic of conversation. “You've come across many trainers with different styles, right Dawn?”

“Yeah, like Nando,” Dawn responds brightly, as memories of facing off against the melodic Pokémon Bard come to mind.

“You see?”

“Plus you shouldn't forget Fantina,” Zoey points out. “She was a Top Coordinator before becoming a Gym Leader, and yet she still battles like she's in a Contest.”

“And then there's Wallace, someone who's both a Pokémon Champion and Top Coordinator,” Johanna adds. “Think of it this way, a trainer that takes on the gyms are more likely to focus on the strength of their Pokémon and the power of their moves. A Coordinator on the other hand showcases their Pokémon however they can. That includes utilising and redirecting their opponents moves.”

“Along with also working through different combinations!” Dawn finishes. “Yeah! We are totally going to have this!”

“Calm down, Dawn,” Johanna warns. “That doesn't mean you'll find it any easier. That just means you need to stick to you and your Pokémon's style, just like any other battle.”

“No need to worry, mum,” Dawn comments, brushing off her mother's cautions. “My Pokémon and I will be careful.”

“And what do I do when you tell me not to worry?”

Zoey lets out a good natured chuckle at Johanna's stern remark, along with the sulking pout in response from Dawn. She gives her Glameow another gentle rub, a warm smile crossing her face, before disappearing as a question comes to mind.

“Hey, Johanna? Have you been invited? You are a Top Coordinator, after all.”

“Oh yeah, it would be really cool to see you in action, mum,” Dawn jumps in excitedly.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't received an invitation,” Johanna answers. “Truthfully, the last time I competed was before the last Champions League. They're probably limiting it to results in the last twenty years.”

“Aww …” Dawn expresses with a hint of disappointment, before her appearance suddenly hardens as her eyes dart to the ground.

“Dawn?” Zoey says, noticing her friend's glum look.

“Oh, it's nothing,” she replies, plastering on a wide smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes. “No need to worry.”

Zoey raises an eyebrow at her remark, which freezes her faux cheeriness. Dawn's fake smile shrinks down to a small curl of her lips, as her flickering eyes stare down at the cup of tea in her hands.

“Right, sorry,” Dawn softly apologises. “I was just wondering if Ash will be there …”

-----

Following in through a hidden winding passage on the southern face of Mt Daybreak in Seishi, a large room opens up from within the craggy walls – a secret hideout for the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and the Champion of Seishi. The concealed tunnel morphs into a wide space hollowed out from the mountainside, showcasing a fully furnished area that could easily become someone's living space if they so desired. Smooth polished marble coats the floors, small flame lanterns hang from the cracked, craggy walls, while a couple of large globe lights dangle down from the tall ceiling.

In the middle of the chamber is a large fire pit, currently crackling away with a warm blaze, with a wide venting shaft hanging above that funnels any smoke out of the room. Seated around the flames are two large curved white velvet couches – one on the right and one directly opposite on the left – with eight people currently sitting on the furniture. Beyond, the far wall falls away to an open view of a roaring waterfall, with small vapour droplets gently spraying back into the room. Through the opening sunlight cascades in from a cavernous sinkhole, flooding half of the room in a shimmering light that dances against the golden flickering glow of the flames. Off to the right of the lounge area is a large oak dining table with ten chairs placed around it, while beyond that is a fully equipped kitchen, the surfaces sculpted in black slate, bright white quartz and handcrafted mahogany wood.

Seated on the couch on the right is Lillith, the Ice type Gym Leader; a woman with scarlet red hair pulled back into a ponytail, with strands falling around the side of her face. Her legs, clad in a form hugging pair of black pants, are crossed one over the other in front of her, while a big warm furry coat covers her torso.

To her right is Kai, the Fire type Gym Leader. He is currently slumped on the couch, with his lanky form allowing his head to still rest on top the back, allowing his eyes to stare straight up at the ceiling. His messy midnight blue hair cascades over his eyes and draws level with his nose, with little hints of electric blue roots poking through the fringe. He has on a loose white button up t-shirt, though the top three buttons are left undone, with a flame patterned tie hung slack around his neck, and a pair of denim jeans that are torn at the knees.

Beyond him is Sheamus, the Grass type member of the Elite Four, dressed in the same worn outfit that he wore during his meeting with the representatives from the Pokémon League and other regions.

Finally, beside him, is Juliette, the Electric type Gym Leader. Her bushy dark emerald hair gently brushes against the top of her shoulders, while a pair of red rimmed glasses sits delicately on her nose. She has a white lab coat – marred by a few scuff marks and holes towards the bottom – draped over a raven black undershirt, with a pair of baggy black cargo pants to match.

Across from them, on the other couch, sits Duncan, the Normal type Gym Leader. He has short fluffy ashen brown hair, while having a white and light grey striped scarf wrapped round his neck. He also has on a thick brown leather jacket over a steel-grey shirt with a white Pokéball print by his left hip – the last third of the design is cut off by the end of the shirt. Completing his look is a pair of black chinos, held up by a thin belt.

To Duncan's left is the Ghost type Gym Leader, Thane. Hunched over, with his pasty pale arms resting on his knees and holding up his head, a pair of sunken eyes stare out at the room through the curtain of raven black hair cascading down in front of his face. He has on a baggy indigo shirt that has had the sleeves torn off at the shoulders, along with several other small holes and tears pierce the fabric. His jet black pants share the same ragged look, having been frayed, torn and tattered all along the pant-length.

Sitting next to him is Alex, the Gym Leader who specialises in both Rock and Ground types. He has spiky dirty brown hair with a matching short scraggly beard running along his jawline, with a pair of slightly dirty goggles sitting amongst his hair. He's wearing a long sleeved khaki shirt – the sleeves having been rolled up to just below his elbows – and a pair of tawny brown cargo pants, both items slightly dusty, while sitting on the ground in front of him is a very large and seemingly bursting sage green backpack. Currently, Alex's head is down looking towards his hands, holding a pen and a small notepad, as he quickly scrawls across the page.

The final member on the couch is the Water specialist of the Elite Four, and Top Coordinator, Hikaru, humming softly to herself as she kicks her legs out ahead of her. Like Sheamus, she is wearing much the same outfit she did upon meeting the other representatives a couple of weeks ago, though she has also thrown on a sky blue hoodie for good measure.

Standing in between the fire pit and the opening looking out to the waterfall is Raphael, Flying type master and Elite Four member. Unlike his meeting with the other representatives, he has forsaken his black skintight undershirt, showing off his muscular arms. Also, this change in attire also shows off the winding runic and tribal-like tattoo crawling up his left arm, similar in design to the pair adorning Sheamus' bulky arms. In his hand is a clipboard that he keeps sneaking tiny glances to as he reports to everyone in the room, going over the information for the tournament and their responsibilities.

High above everyone else as she climbs up the craggy wall, whilst still vaguely listening to the former Champion, is Bridgette, the Fighting type Gym Leader. Her auburn hair is tied back in a braided ponytail that hangs down between her shoulder blades. A thin black tank top clings to her lean, toned torso, while a matching pair of black sweatpants hugs her powerful legs. Her hands, strapped up and chalked, cling to the handholds she's found as her eyes scan for her next opening to manoeuvre herself even higher than she already is.

Sitting alone at the head of large dining table is Ella, the Fairy type Gym Leader. A pale violet hoodie is wrapped around her, with the hood drawn over her head, though peeking through the front can be seen her pixie cut hairstyle containing a blend of golden blonde, sky blue, and rose pink hair. She also has on a pair of faded jeans, with her hands stuffed inside the pockets of her hoodie. Though she is still listening to Raphael's report, it may not appear so, as instead her eyes are following the Pokémon chasing each other around the outfitted chamber; including a Dedenne, a Flabebe, a Litleo, a Frosslass, an Azurill, and a Pikachu.

Leaning beside the entrance to the chamber with her arms folded across her chest is Jeanne, Steel type specialist and member of the Elite Four, keeping a watchful eye over the entire room, along with sending glances towards the pathway beside her, lest someone unexpected comes in. On her other side leaning against the wall is a large greatsword, nearly as tall as Jeanne herself, unsheathed and untouched, yet within reach. Her long flowing fiery red hair spills down her back. Adorning her torso is a plain black tank top, showing off her muscular arms and the scars that litter them, matched by the long scar carved along her right cheek. However, her legs are completely covered in armour plating, with nary an opening to be seen.

Finally, leaning up against the far wall of the room, with the aperture showcasing the waterfall just to his left, is the Champion of Seishi, Aaron. With the wide brimmed hat still tilted over his right eye, and the left side of his face still covered by his bangs, his cloak has been forsaken, instead showing off his storm grey sleeveless tunic and a large amount of strapping and bandages wrapped around his limp left arm. His right hand, still held within his fingerless gem embedded glove, sits against his waist, with the thumb tucked into the waistband of his cargo pants, and a small thin golden band sits further up on his forearm.

“So, you got us all in here just to tell us it's all sorted?” Duncan sighs as Raphael finishes giving them the details over the completed selection process.

“Not at all,” Raphael replies, “We've also got some other things to do.”

From above them on the wall Bridgette lets out a groan as she throws a hand out to her next handhold. “Really? More work?”

“There are times that we do need to get work done,” Juliette points out.

“You're just saying that because your boyfriend's organising it,” Bridgette retorts with a slight strain as she pulls herself higher, the remark getting a bright red hue to coat the Electric type specialist's cheeks.

“Th-That's not true …”

“Now, now, you'll find out that there are times you'll have other priorities than battling,” Sheamus interjects, reaching out a large comforting hand and placing it very gently on the flustered woman's shoulder, while she fidgets with the hem of her coat. “We knew that when we took up positions with the League.”

“Yeah, yeah …” the athletic Fighting type specialist sighs with a roll of her eyes.

“Don't worry, most of what's left for you is just supervising construction for the stadiums and accommodation,” Raphael mentions.

“Just watching over stuff?” Thane drones, his dark eyes slowly shifting over to Raphael who nods in response.

“Yeah, and making sure they aren't damaging the habitats and the wild Pokémon. It shouldn't be too much of a problem – Jameson Inc is handling the construction process.”

“So what do we do?” Lillith speaks up with a sigh. She, like quite a few others, weren't overly fond of meetings that came down to League business, and was getting pretty bored with the affair.

“Mainly we'll be working in shifts, apart from some stuff that still needs a specialist,” he replies. “Alex, you'll be taking care of the buildings being built into Daybreak.”

“Making sure it's not disrupting the energy levels and the structures?” Alex checks as his pen pauses along his page.

“Bingo,” he answers, Alex nodding and quickly returning to his note taking. “Make sure it won't come caving in. And that we can still sneak our way through to our hideouts and our floor without interference.”

Alex's writing hand pauses again. “… You know that one of those things is a lot easier than the other, right?”

“I'm sure you'll manage,” Raphael says, before glancing at his clipboard. “Hikaru's taking care of the contest stages for the Wallace Cup, which will be held over by the lakefront of Crystdrake Castle.”

If someone had just walked in, they wouldn't have guessed that the energy of the room previously was pretty drained as, with that statement, a chorus of voices bellow out their disapproval, to the complete and utter lack of surprise of the former Champion.

“We can't hold it there!” Bridgette shouts down from above, letting go of the wall with one hand so she can lean over and twist her body to look at Raphael. “It's too important!”

“Agreed,” Thane growls, the volume of his voice staying the same, yet gaining a very dark growl. “We cannot sully the spirits of that place.”

“Not entirely what I meant …”

As some in the group continues voicing their concerns, Raphael looks back to Aaron, silently asking if he'd like to intervene. However, the light mirth dancing in the gaze that darts out from the forest of bangs shrouding his eye, coupled with the slight curl of his lips, seems to communicate to Raphael that the Champion has no intentions whatsoever to bail him out of this mess.

“I agree with Bridgette,” Duncan speaks up. “Even without the sentimental reasons you guys have for protecting it, the lakefront there is central to a lot of Pokémon's lives. You just told us to make sure the construction workers aren't damaging the habitats for the wild Pokémon.”

“But it's perfect,” Hikaru objects as she leaps up to her feet. “A contest is a showcase of magnificence, allure and beauty. The water there is perfect for bringing it out. It's so clean!”

“And what about the Pokémon?” Lillith inquires.

“It's an open stage. We won't be building a full stadium. Open top, looking out onto the natural view, and the castle in the background.”

“A ruined castle …” Kai suddenly speaks up, with a dull tone, as he continues to stare up at the ceiling.

“A slightly damaged castle,” Hikaru retorts. “Besides, it's not that bad. You can't say it doesn't look like a gorgeous sight, right?”

Some murmurs of agreement come from the discontent members of their group.

“The stage will be portable, she continues. “We should be able to float it out and bring it back in easily. Enough room to dig, move around, and it'll open up for water performances.”

“Also, we were going to have some Pokémon help out with a barrier around the stage, just like with some of the stadiums,” Raphael adds on. “So, no wayward attacks will hurt the Pokémon living around there.”

“Are you sure the stage will work?” Alex voices.

“Professor Jones believes it will, based on her research,” Hikaru answers. “We should have the proper measures to make it all function perfectly. I was always going to ask Julie to help me there as well, if that'll ease everyone's concerns.”

Juliette suddenly looks up as the multitude of eyes in the room fall on her. She quickly looks back down at her lap, squirming slightly in her seat, before she shyly glances over to Raphael. “… Will it affect the Starlight Festival?”

Raphael shakes his head. “No. The Starlight Festival should be on the night before. We'll float out the stage the morning afterwards.”

“We checked with the lake Pokémon too, and they're on board with it too.” Hikaru adds on.

Juliette takes a moment before nodding. “Okay … I'll help with the stage.”

Hikaru lets out a cheer and hugs Juliette before returning to her seat.

“Stage aside, I'm still not sure about using the lake and the castle,” Jeanne speaks up, stern eyes looking over the rest of the room.

“I should also point out that I heard Governor Daniels was wanting to hold an event their during the tournament,” Raphael mentions, getting everyone to look back at him. “If what I heard is right, he'll even get an outside organisation to handle the restorations if he needs to. If we say we're using that area for the Wallace Cup, then Jameson Inc can handle the touch ups that's needed, and we'll have one of us there to make sure that only what's needed to be repaired in case an event is held is repaired.”

A few murmurs hum around the room as they converse with one another, before they look over at Jeanne. Her eyes float over each of the gazes looking back at her, before she sighs and closes her eyes. “Guess that sounds good enough.”

“Well, with that out of the way, I'll get to the other specialities. Sheamus will be focused on the accommodation on the edges of Shifmier Forest.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Ella suddenly speaks up, having had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. Everyone looks over at her, while she keeps her head down, watching the Pokémon who were still running around playing with one another, completely unperturbed by the earlier commotion.

“It should be fine, as long as the workers know what's going on and the trainers are told to stay near the tree line,” Sheamus speaks up. “My friends should be wandering through, too.”

“Plus the Protectors could also be on hand to keep an eye on things. Right, Jeanne?” Raphael says, looking across the room at his fellow Elite Four member.

“We could maybe spare a patrol or two over there.”

“Thank ye', lass,” Sheamus thanks with an incline of his head. “It would be a great help.”

Jeanne gives him a small nod in response before turning her head away with a small huff, appearing to an untrained eye to still be keeping an eye on the entrance for any possible intruders. Raphael lets a small smirk cross his lips before he glances back down at his clipboard.

“Finally, I'll be keeping an eye on the construction for the Tyrant's Maw.”

“Sky Battles?” Thane inquires.

“Sky Battles,” Raphael confirms with a nod.

“And what are the rest of us doing?” Duncan asks.

“Jeanne and Aaron will be working on getting the Protectors organised for the tournament, and will be coordinating with our Officer Jennys. The rest of you will be rotating through on different shifts,” Raphael explains. “Mainly, you're just making sure things are going on track. Really, the League just wants to make sure a representative with a position is present, and we'd like to make sure our land is as untouched as possible. Professor Jones is also going to be on call if any complications arise.”

“So, what's going to be happening with the gym challengers?” Lillith questions.

“The Nurse Joys have been asked to direct all new challengers to you first, Lillith. You tend to be the one that gets challenged the most by first timers, so it makes sense. Any of our Nurse Joys will let you know when a new challenger has registered, and when they should get there. From there, we ask that they then notify which gym they'll challenge next. Any expected battles will be worked into the flexible shift rotations.”

An annoyed groan comes from up above, and the group look up as Bridgette lets go of the wall and falls down, landing in a crouch. She then springs back up and claps her hands together, dusting the air in front of her with a cloud of chalk. “Supervising is so boring … Why can't those new challengers come face me first?”

Bridgette moves over to Lillith as she unwraps the strapping on her hands and wrists, before leaning on the couch behind the Ice type Gym Leader.

“Hey Lil'? Wanna battle?” she challenges. “Whoever wins gets any new challengers first.”

Lillith lets out a warm chuckle and stretches her arms out above her head, before placing both hands behind her head and leaning back into them. “Dunno, Bridge, Raph's the one who made all this up. Best you challenge him instead.”

“Come on, I'm not going to beat him!”

“If you're that desperate to do something else, you can help out with the paperwork that needs doing,” Raphael offers with a smirk, getting a frustrated look in response from Bridgette.

“… Supervision it is.” she grumbles, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face with a puff of air.

“Good. Anything other problems?”

His question is met with silence, so Raphael turns around to look at Aaron.

“Anything you want to add, Champ?” Raphael checks, Aaron silently shaking his head in response. “Alright then. Let's get this done, guys.” 

-----

AN: So, there we go. A lot of information to be taken in, I'm sure.

Firstly, the list. I'll put it in order that I'd probably have them faced in, if this was a game. It will include name, type specialty, and age.

Gym Leaders:

Lillith - Ice type - 30

Alex - Rock/Ground type (yep, I'm going with a dual type specialist) - 28

Juliette - Electric type - 27

Duncan - Normal type - 26

Thane - Ghost type - 36

Bridgette - Fighting type - 24

Kai - Fire type - 27

Ella - Fairy type - 22

Elite Four and Champion:

Sheamus - Grass type - 44

Hikaru - Water type - 24

Jeanne - Steel type - 26

Raphael - Flying type - 29

Aaron - Various types - 25

So, beyond that, that's pretty much all I think I need to say. Next chapter should be people arriving in Seishi, which will be after a couple of months or so. Unless I decide I need to cover anything in between then. 

Until next time, adios!

[inspector-montoya-fox]

#5 - The Cold Heart of Hate

Setting: well that was fast... we make it to Russia, where we’re greeted to the evilest of evil lairs. when not dodging robo-falcons and burning boulders, the first mission acts as a tour and establishes the fact that we’re legit in a volcano. i don’t want to say that this is anticlimactic because the missions in this episode are truly hard, but there’s no hub to explore. instead, it’s a chain of missions that lead to the Clockwerk battle, and i guess that makes sense since there’s no time to waste, the stakes are high, etc. if you weren’t able to piece the clues together about Clockwerk’s identity up to this point, the missions do not help. unlike some of the game’s other episodes where the baddies’ personalities are reflected by the settings, Clockwerk remains a shadow up until the very end (and that’s kinda ironic when you think about how he has a huge fucking tower with his face on it). considering the absence of a main hub, the missions do a pretty good job in establishing the mood. we see the outside and inside of the volcano while controlling the van, and then Bentley’s hacking and Sly’s journey into the lab exhibit the level’s technological/ science-y aesthetic. on that note, let’s talk a bit about that lab. i’ve mentioned this before on my account but Cold Heart of Hate is a slave to the early platformer tradition of having an evil lab as the final stage. i don’t blame the game for that - here’s what’s weird though: if Clockwerk is so much larger than Sly, he couldn’t possibly fit into that lab. so... who works there? the robo-falcons? or is Clockwerk actually a ship for someone else? i uh *removes tin foil hat* ...... the huge Clockwerk tower is great for exposition, given that Clockwerk, although a rotting owl corpse stuffed inside a machine, has a huge ego. Sinking Peril is my favorite mission in the episode because it sets up the perfect atmosphere for the final bossfight. fighting the bird over its sinking tower of a replica not only ups the ante but also makes it feel even more satisfying when we finally get to drop it into the lava. lastly, i said Sunset Snake Eyes represented red and i kinda regret it now because that should have been orange and Cold Heart of Hate should have been red. welp! Cold Heart of Hate can be black. seems fitting.

Characters: i lied - the setting does reflect Clockwerk’s character in a very specific way: we’re literally inside a cottdamn volcano. tensions are brewing, the veil is about to be removed. Clockwerk is great. no, he’s more than great. he’s a satisfying and deserving final boss. he’s a maniacal, narcissistic, eGoMaNiAc that really gets under your skin when he keeps on pulling off the reveals. not ONLY has he killed Sly’s entire lineage, the QUEEN had the AUDACITY to stay alive for centuries! Clock-werk it baby! we have no choice but to STAN. the bitch is evil and that’s made crystal clear. his source of youth? hatred. the bird literally killed to remain healthy. and i’m glad he knows no shame because the monologue at the beginning of the bossfight is everything i ever wanted. i guess, Clockwerk has the shortest appearance in the game but still manages to make it impactful. whoever played the game during their childhood knows what i’m talking about - the music, the dialogue, the purple shooting cues: they all remain fresh in the head. the bossfight is the stuff of nightmares. Carmelita makes her final comeback in the perfect recipe for a climactic clash. she starts off as the damsel in distress that can’t be trusted because of her profession, but ultimately helps Sly take down Clockwerk. and i love that this is the beginning of Carmelita putting an end to Sly’s nemeses. her role is great here. yes, she’s the love interest that gets shamelessly left behind at the very end, but she’s the one that helps Sly get back his cain. actually, here’s something i’ve never thought of before: we make such a huge deal out of Carmelita being a playable character in Sly 3, that we all forgot she was playable in Sly 1 as well. i’m lowkey shocked. i don’t know how i overlooked this BUT ALSO shocked to just realise that in both Sly 1 and 3, Sly loses his cain (SP stuck to the original formula for final level suspense, i guess). and let me use that revelation to segue to Sly. he’s made it y’all!!! he’s finally here, ready to extract vengeance. and it shows. we might take his valour and chivalry for granted because this is the Sly we all know and love, but if this was your first time playing the game and somehow escaped all possible clichés by living under a rock your entire life, you’ll appreciate the raccoon’s persistence to save Carmelita. he didn’t have to do it, but he did it. let me praise Kevin Miller here for a sec, because without his voice-acting this would mean nothing. but it’s because of him that it means so much. when you finally beat Clockwerk and the cutscene starts playing and Sly says how he’s made it, it really feels like home, y’know? damn. also: Bentley and Murray finally come into the spotlight. i don’t want to go into detail because i’d rather talk about friendship in the cottdamn Themes section, but Cold Heart of Hate is what makes them true characters.

Themes: off the top of my head? legacy, revenge, friendship, love trumps hate, climax, heat, honour, the past, and many more. i’ll go with my favs because this deserves a post on its own. friendship goes hand-to-hand with love trumps hate because it’s represented by everyone that came out to support Sly. Bentley, Murray and Carmelita come through. they put their fears and differences aside and prevail to help Sly get to the top. they all play their roles, their motivation being love for the raccoon, and that comes into stark contrast with Clockwerk’s preachings. the age-old “good vs evil”. Clockwerk stayed alive by feeding on hatred and got his ass kicked by a group of friends and the love interest (not yet a woman on her own). it’s traditional and it works. similarly to Tide of Terror, the theme of heat ensures that the player is kept engaged. there’s no time to roam around, find clue-bottles, etc. the need to finish this as quickly as possible is enhanced by the volcano landscape and the high temperature. this is especially seen in Sinking Peril because of the rising lava. if you waste time you will literally get gobbled up. the lava encapsulates Sly’s progress and his temper as well. he’s burning inside, itching to finally get revenge (you’ll notice that Sly 1 has no operations and that presents the gang’s early days, Sly’s rash attitude and his persistence to just go up to the main baddie and fight). and the heat’s significance is ultimately shown when Clockwerk sinks into the lava. he doesn’t only get blown up - he “dies”, sinking into the volcano, deteriorating in the heat, showing how time is inescapable. there’s some karmic energy going on here, as Clockwerk cheated the Coopers of a normal death and in turn got served, showing that even if you find a way to stay alive it ultimately won’t work. i also want to touch on motifs, and the motif of technology is a nice one. it doesn’t only showcase Clockwerk’s genius, but it also allows for Bentley to go head-to-head with the owl. there’s something truly cyber about Cold Heart of Hate, but not in the traditional sense. like, the collapsing computer screens during Burning Rubber feel absurdly surreal, pushing the cyber-ness to its limits. i don’t even know anymore, i’m tired.

What I Like: hmmm... i like traversing Clockwerk’s lab. i love Sinking Peril. i love that the end cutscene gifted humanity with those Japanese Barbie Girl rainbow videos. there’s no room for likes and dislikes here, but favourite detail would definitely have to be Clockwerk’s health-bar animations during the bossfight, slowly turning from owl to computer brain thing. very reminiscent of a purple yak toy in a Cartoon Network show which i’m dying trying to remember. if anyone knows what i’m going on about lmk please.

What I Don’t Like: the lack of a hub to explore kinda irks me but i won’t say i don’t like it because i understand why they didn’t include one. instead, this spot goes to Murray’s driving and Bentley’s hacking. thematics aside, i literally do not want to replay Cold Heart of Hate because of the Murray section with the slime monsters. the controls continue to be clunky, the slime monsters are annoying and look like they have raisins for eyes. Bentley’s hacking isn’t as annoying, but it’s definitely frustrating. it’s a far cry from Sly 2 and 3′s hacking parts... yea.........

Quote: Perfection has no age...

[nitewrighter]

Mccree seeing Hanzo in his summer skin?

Whoops this turned out really long. I want you all to know I had “Moving in Stereo” by the Cars playing on repeat when I wrote the “Hanzo emerging from the water” scene.

—

“Sorry it’s taking so long…Angela’s better at this than me,” said Genji, having to raise his voice slightly over the buzz of the razor.

Hanzo’s neck hurt a little from tilting his head for so long. “Because letting Angela go at my head with a razor is a wonderful idea.”

“It is, because she’s a surgeon, and she touches up my hair all the time,” said Genji, there was a smile in his voice, “You’re not… afraid of her, are you?”

“Afrai–” Hanzo huffed, “I’m just able to pick up that she’s clearly uncomfortable around me and protective of you,” his voice dropped slightly, “And you can hardly blame her for that.”

“The worst she would do is shave a dick into the side of your head,” said Genji, pushing hair off of the back of Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo shot him a glare from the corner of his eye that he could manage to see Genji in. “Which…” Genji added, “Obviously, she wouldn’t do.”

“You would do that,” muttered Hanzo.

“Which is why I’m amazed you asked me to help out with this,” said Genji, that smile still in his voice as he continued to shave the back of Hanzo’s head.

“How is this so easy for you?” the words fell out of Hanzo and Genji paused, the tickle of the razor and the sound of its buzz against Hanzo’s scalp ceasing.

“What do you mean?” asked Genji.

“You can just say, ‘Let’s go to the beach!’ as if we don’t have decades of trauma and centuries of our family’s crimes to deal with,” said Hanzo.

“You’re finally off probation,” said Genji, “I thought you’d want to celebrate.”

“Yes, let’s celebrate your friends no longer pointing their weapons in my direction if I so much as sneeze suspiciously,” muttered Hanzo.

“Talon did ask you to join them 3 times–and you did have that whole thing with-”

“Baptiste defected,” Hanzo cut him off, “And I don’t know how many more times I have to tell you that was years ago.”

“You know it isn’t personal on their end,” said Genji.

“Except for the part where they all mostly know me as the man who nearly killed you,” said Hanzo.

“It’s gotten better,” Genji set the razor aside and put his prosthetic hand on Hanzo’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, but the reminder that that arm was prosthetic just made Hanzo’s guts tie up in knots more, “And it’s going to keep getting better. You know what I think?”

Hanzo’s shoulder’s slumped and he rolled his eyes, “What do you think, Genji?”

“I think you’re just getting anxious because this is a chance to see my teammates when they’re not on duty. This is a chance to let people get to know you outside of your skills on a mission–and you should have a life outside of missions–outside of…” Genji gestured between them, “Outside of trying to rebuild our family. When was the last time you were able to just… be with people? In a group?”

A long silence passed and Hanzo furrowed his brow.

“You know you left the entire right side of my head unshaved,” was all Hanzo responded with.

Genji just shrugged and turned the razor back on.

——

The Rock of Gibraltar loomed over the beach. McCree never really thought of their watchpoint as ‘looming,’ but looking at it now, he could definitely understood why locals kept their distance from it. You couldn’t even see the Watchpoint from their angle, but the knowledge of who was living up there, what kind of trouble they could bring to civilians in the area, was enough to make McCree’s stomach tense up slightly as he looked around the beach. Still, it felt freeing to feel the water rush up around his ankles with each wave. Overwatch duties could wait for now. Everyone needed a break eventually, even rogue vigilante peacekeeping organizations, he supposed.

It was a hot, crowded day, and a handful of Overwatch members were taking advantage of the crowds at the beach to slip in and try and snag a few hours of relaxation for themselves. A good amount of them were either off-watchpoint on missions (Like Pharah and Zenyatta) or looking after their own careers (like Lúcio and D.Va). And of course Jack was probably obsessing over Reaper’s next step, as usual. McCree itched for a cigar, or even a cigarette, but he was at least not enough of an asshole to subject crowds like this to secondhand. If he was, Mercy would probably knock it right out of his mouth anyways.

“Ahh,” Mercy stretched her arms high above her head, her seersucker swimsuit cover-up ruffling in the ocean breeze, “I can’t remember the last time I was able to get out like this!”

McCree shuffled behind her, sand finding its way between foot and flip-flop, tilting the brim of his hat back with his thumb. “It’s good to see you gettin’ some sun, Doc,” he said, looking out at the water.

“I could say the same for you,” said Mercy, “Finally off those ‘probationary agent’ duties. I still think it wasn’t fair of Jack to saddle you with all that—”

“They weren’t all bad,” said McCree with a shrug, “He’s–” McCree nearly said, ‘He’s not all bad’ but caught himself. Mercy was still probably the toughest nut to crack with regards to Hanzo’s presence on the Watchpoint.

“Finally settling in,” Mercy said crisply, “He’s finally settling in.”

One corner of McCree’s mouth tugged up in a smirk.

“I know he grew on you,” said Mercy, adjusting the brim of her own wide hat, “You don’t need to act like he didn’t for my sake.”

“He didn’t–I mean, I just figured it was too much energy to keep being as pissed with him as I was—”

“Jesse,” Mercy’s shoulder’s slumped in that almost motherly conciliatory way of hers.

“He’s really…” McCree started and then itched at the brim of his hat, not really sure how to finish that sentence. He shook his head, deciding to take the focus of the conversation off of himself. “You think he’ll ever grow on you?” McCree tilted his head and Mercy followed McCree’s gaze out over the sparkling waters.

“I don’t know,” Mercy admitted, “A part of me wants to trust him, for Genji’s sake, but so much of me just… can’t.”

“For Genji’s sake,” said McCree.

“Yes,” Mercy tucked a bit of hair back from her face.

“Heeeeeyyy!” a familiar voice yelled across the beach and  both Mercy and McCree glanced over in the direction of its source to Brigitte and Torbjörn a couple dozen yards away, sitting on a few beach towels with an umbrella and cooler nearby. Torbjörn was busying himself with rubbing on another layer of sunscreen, but Brigitte was waving her arms above her head, signaling them to come over. Mercy and McCree exchanged glances, then picked up their pace to close the distance between them.

“Angela!” Brigitte’s voice was bright, “You’re out of the lab!”

“I should probably be concerned with how surprised people act when that happens, shouldn’t I?” said Mercy, smiling a little.

“Probably,” said Brigitte, opening the cooler and handing them each a packet, “Here. Take these quick. We miscalculated on the cooler’s insulation so they’re melting.”

“I didn’t miscalculate anything!” Torbjörn blustered, still rubbing sunscreen on himself, “These are clearly inferior and cheap popsicles!”

Brigitte rolled her eyes, “Just take them,” she said, as McCree and Mercy opened their popsicles. McCree’s was strawberry, Mercy’s was orange cream.

“I see you two actually came all set up,” said Mccree, licking at the bottom of his popsicle before red could drip onto his knuckles.

“But of course!” said Torbjörn, “We Lindholms work hard and play hard!”

“Don’t believe him,” said Brigitte, “He’s got a nannycam on the watchpoint anti-aircraft turrets. He’s been checking his tablet every 5 minutes.”

“Stop calling it a nannycam!” said Torbjörn.

“Stop calling the turrets ‘babies,’” said Brigitte with a smirk.

“Why of all the–” Torbjörn huffed and seized another popsicle out of the cooler, muttering as he unwrapped it and bit off a chunk of it.

“Where’s Genji?” asked Brigitte, craning her neck to look around, “He didn’t come here with you?”

“He’s coming, he just had some things to wrap up at the Watchpoint first,” said Mercy.

“Guess he’s gotta babysit his brother now that Jack let me off the hook,” said McCree with a shrug, sliding the last bits of popsicle off its stick with his teeth.

“Don’t tell me the probation’s over already?” said Torbjörn.

“Congrats on the new team member?” McCree shrugged.

“So he’s actually staying?” said Brigitte, “But he’s so… ‘Hmph!’” she passed her hand in front of her face and her expression theatrically shifted to a furrowed brow and deep frown. Mercy snickered.

“Well, the only sniper we’ve got is Ana, and she’s focused on medic stuff half the time,” said McCree, “I mean, I don’t think it would hurt.”

“Huh! I guess you would know,” Brigitte shrugged, “I mean, you spent more time with him than anyone here.”

“Well, yeah–that was my job,” said McCree, a bit more harshly than he meant to say.

Brigitte blinked, “Sorry, did I come off as rude with that last comment?”

“What?” said McCree, “No.”

“It’s just you seem a little agitated—”

“I–” McCree huffed and cut himself off, “I’m fine. It’s fine. You got anything to drink in that cooler?”

“Thought you’d never ask!” said Torbjörn.

—

“I can’t do this,” said Hanzo, as they walked across the beach. Hanzo’s stomach was still twisting at the sight of the scars that scored Genji’s arms and face. Genji’s prosthetic legs were on full display with his ridiculously short workout shorts.The way Genji talked about the shame he felt about his own body in years past, it was a bit of a relief to see Genji walking around dressed like he did back in their youth, but it also faced Hanzo with his own mistakes. But what could he do? Ask Genji to don a full wetsuit for his own comfort? When every scar on display was Hanzo’s own doing? Hanzo tried to focus on scanning the crowd for potential threats rather than look directly at Genji.

“It’s really not that bad—” said Genji.

“Why am I doing this? Why are you wearing that?!” said Hanzo, gesturing at Genji’s open-sided tank top.

Genji glanced down at the words ‘BAE WATCH’ splayed across his chest in large block letters. “Because it’s fun?” he suddenly perked up, “Oh! There’s Angela.”

Hanzo followed Genji’s line of sight to a small gathering at a beach umbrella. McCree and Mercy were facing away from them, blocking out whoever was under the umbrella. McCree was still wearing a cowboy hat with his swim trunks. Of course he was. They all seemed to be having a pleasant time talking, and Genji started walking towards them when Hanzo suddenly stuck a hand out in front of Genji’s chest.

“What?” said Genji.

“Hold this,” Hanzo handed Genji his vest.

“Sure–” Genji started but Hanzo split off from him and started wading into the water, “Wait–but the others are–!” Genji cut himself off as Hanzo submerged his head. Genji’s shoulders slumped a little, still holding Hanzo’s vest, “It’s fine!” he called out to the water, “I’ll just tell them you’re swimming!”

—

“…but you guys are still sharing the dormitories?” said Brigitte, slipping a cozy on her beer can.

“We aren’t sharing the dormitories–they’re dormitories–there’s like 12 beds down there, not exactly sharing,” said McCree.

“I’d say it’s sharing if there’s no walls,” said Torbjörn.

“It’s not sharing,” said McCree flatly.

“There is still that last admin apartment,” said Mercy, “You could take that.”

“God, no, I’m not pulling that ‘odd couple’ shit,” said McCree.

“…I mean just you. You singular. You would take the apartment and Hanzo would stay in the dormitories,” said Mercy.

“…Oh,” said McCree. He took a long gulp from his own beer then.

“I mean if you wanted to take the apartment with him, I wouldn’t stop you–” Mercy started but McCree sputtered and coughed.

“You okay?” said Brigitte as McCree coughed for an awkwardly long time.

“Fine–” McCree coughed, “Just–fine—” he coughed some more.

“Yo!” Genji’s voice rang out from behind him and McCree swiveled on his heel.

“Gen–” he coughed, “–ji! You made it!”

“Of course I’m here,” said Genji, tossing a white vest over his shoulder and swinging an arm around Mercy’s waist, “I heard a certain doctor would be in a swimsuit and I came running.”

Mercy snorted and rolled her eyes before leaning into his embrace and kissing him on the cheek. “I can’t believe you’re wearing the tank top,” she said, grinning.

“You love this tank top,” said Genji, returning the kiss.

An “Aw!” fell out of Brigitte while Torbjörn just rolled his eyes and grumbled.

“Guess Hanzo chickened out, then?” said McCree.

“Oh no, he’s still here,” said Genji, “Just decided to cool off. He really is looking forward to spending time with all of you!”

No one really had the heart to tell Genji when it was painfully obvious that Hanzo had said no such thing.

“Well,” Brigitte offered helpfully, digging through the cooler and tossing Genji a popsicle, “When he gets here, there’s popsicles and beers and sodas with his name on them!”

—

Hanzo’s eyes were squeezed shut beneath the water, he could feel the salt clawing at the line of his lips and the creases of his eyelids.

You can’t stay down here forever, he told himself, Literally. You have to breathe.

He permitted his head to break the surface only slightly, letting his nose rise above the water to breathe, and blinked a few times to get the sting of salt away. On the beach, Genji was eagerly chatting with his arm around Mercy’s shoulders, McCree was looking on, and the Lindholms were sitting on beach towels beneath an umbrella. Genji said something Hanzo couldn’t hear from that distance and all five of them laughed. What? What was so funny? Were they talking about him? No, don’t be an idiot–they all had lives well before he came to that watchpoint, it was ridiculous to assume he’d be at the center of all them just by being there. None of them even looked over in his direction.

When was the last time you were able to just… be with people? In a group? Genji’s voice echoed in Hanzo’s mind and no small amount of resentment came over him.

There’s always a bit of bitterness when one is an older sibling and one watches something come more naturally to their younger sibling. Genji was always the more personable between the two of them–Hanzo could hold council with the elders of the clan, but Genji could actually talk to people and not come off as stiff and unnatural. Hanzo couldn’t stand how naturally it came to Genji, and for Hanzo it just became a vicious cycle of throwing himself into his training and clan traditions and then wondering why people only seemed more and more distant to him. Brigitte said something this time and McCree cracked up, the lines of his stomach and ribs tensing with his laugh. Genji glanced over his shoulder towards the water.

Don’t look at me don’t look at me don’t look at me— the words ran as a prayer in Hanzo’s mind.

They made eye contact.

Shit, thought Hanzo, Don’t wave to me. Don’t point me out. Don’t–

Genji waved to him and then glanced back at the others, pointing out Hanzo in the water, saying something inaudible from where Hanzo was.

“Shit,” Hanzo said the word with his mouth still below the water and it broke the water’s surface as a silent bubble. Well if he stayed out here any longer it would just get more and more awkward unless he made a big show of doing a backstroke or something–but no, he was in the water and he was staring so he had to come out now. Hanzo brought his head up out of the water and took a deep breath. “Very well, Genji,” he muttered under his breath, wading towards the shore.

—

“See?” said Genji putting his hands on his hips, “I told you he’d be happy to join us.”

“So you really had to drag him out here, huh?” McCree smirked, mindlessly chewing on his popsicle stick.

“I didn’t have to drag him–he actually does like the beach. He was always better at fishing than me,” said Genji.

“Sure. Ten bucks says he’s going to fake being caught up in a riptide before he…” McCree trailed off as Hanzo got out of the water, “comes…” Water was dripping down the dip of Hanzo’s collarbone and glistening over the curve of his pecs, “Over.” The last word fell out of McCree as a murmur, an afterthought as Hanzo brushed water from his brow and swept his hair up off the back of his neck, revealing a freshly-shaved undercut. The sun glared off the water’s surface almost blindingly behind him, leaving the silhouette of his body outlined in blazing gold and greenish-blue, Hanzo’s eyes were downcast–apparently he was attempting to look as casual as possible in coming out of the water, but the result was an inadvertent visual homage to every 80′s movie slow-motion coming-out-of-a-pool scene. With his hair swept up, Hanzo wrung his hair out, sending more water dripping down onto his shoulder muscles and running shining down the lines of his torso, dancing along his ribs and obliques.

 The popsicle stick fell out of McCree’s mouth and landed in the sand. Mercy gave a glance down to the popsicle stick then up at McCree, still staring, utterly transfixed. 

The dragons tattooed on Hanzo’s arm shifted with the muscles of his arm as he tied his hair back in a not-quite bun and he circled his arm in its socket as he closed the distance between himself and the group, his eyes now focusing on them. Genji said something that sounded like ‘How’s the water’ and Hanzo responded with what McCree assumed was ‘Good’ or some equivalent, but if McCree was being honest, whatever they were saying was blurred out of his conscious mind by the extremely distracting visuals of droplets of water running down the contours of Hanzo’s chest and abs. Hanzo dug through one of the pockets of his Hokusai wave-printed swim trunks and took out a strip of white cloth, twisting it and tying it into a headband to keep a stray bang of hair from his face before he made eye contact with McCree and said something.

“What?” said McCree.

“I said ‘Do you have a towel?’” said Hanzo.

“Yeah,” said McCree, still staring.

A long pause passed between them.

“…may I have a towel?” Hanzo asked after some time.

“Oh!” McCree snapped out of his haze, “oh–yeah just–” he looked around, and saw Torbjörn holding up a spare towel. Hanzo reached out for the towel but McCree grabbed it first and then caught himself at how awkward that just was, “Sorry-just–” he stuck the towel out to Hanzo and Hanzo hesitantly took it. Hanzo ran the towel over himself briskly, pressing his face into it and getting under his arms. McCree didn’t really realize he was staring again until he felt Brigitte’s eyes on him and he snapped out of the stupor. Brigitte snorted and McCree made sharp eye contact with her, but she just sipped her beer to suppress a laugh and glanced off before digging through the cooler.

“I…” Hanzo cleared his throat, “To be honest, in spite of how aware I was of the proximity of the sea, it did not occur to me that the Watchpoint would be so close to a beach.”

“We forget about it all the time, ourselves. Overwatch is busy like that. Popsicle?” Brigitte offered.

Hanzo warily took the popsicle and unwrapped it. “Thank you,” he said, blue raspberry already dripping onto his fingers.

“Speaking of the Watchpoint, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements now that you’re on the team,” said Mercy.

Hanzo broke off the end of his popsicle in his mouth. “They’re subject to change?” he tilted his head.

“Well the thing is, is that both you and McCree are in the dormitories, which while, yes, they do have all the amenities, are dormitories, and there’s one administrative apartment left.” 

“We don’t need to talk about this now–” McCree cut in.

“You could take the apartment,” said Genji, looking at Hanzo, “We could be neighbors!”

“That’s hardly fair to those who have been living here for some time,” said Hanzo, “McCree should take it,” Hanzo gave a glance back to McCree, “I know you were concerned you would just ‘trash the place,’ but your teammates obviously value you, so you shouldn’t downplay your—”

“We’ll play it by ear,” McCree blurted out.

Mercy knew she could push for an actual resolution on the matter, but noting McCree’s face she decided not to. 

“You said I was on the team,” said Hanzo, looking at Mercy.

“Well your probation is over,” said Torbjörn.

“But we don’t have to worry about missions right now,” said Brigitte, tossing Hanzo a beer can, “Right now, it’s about relaxing, and taking a breath.” 

“Hm,” Hanzo gave a nod. “I…” he started and then cut himself off.

“Yes?” said Mercy.

“I know… my coming here has disrupted a lot of things, but… it… it does mean a lot to me to get to know all of you.” Hanzo awkwardly bit off more of his popsicle then.

“Han–” Genji started but McCree cut him off.

“It means a lot to have you here, Hanzo,” said McCree.

Everyone’s head swiveled towards McCree.

“Because… you’re… Genji’s family,” McCree tacked on awkwardly, “It’s good to have family here. You two know all about family, right?” said McCree gesturing at the Lindholms.

Brigitte and Torbjörn just stared at him and nodded awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about disrupting things,” said Mercy, swooping in to McCree’s rescue in the awkward silence.

 Hanzo perked up and looked at her with some surprise.

“We’re vigilantes,” said Mercy, “Disruption is a natural state for us. You should just focus on settling in.”

She felt Genji’s eyes on her and she glanced back at him and gave him a little smile. Genji squeezed around her waist a little in response.

“Thank you,” said Hanzo.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and Hanzo’s eyes trailed across the beach. He glanced past several people playing volleyball and his eyes widened.

“What?” said Genji, following his line of sight.

“Fishing pole rentals,” said Hanzo, a bit mindlessly.

“We should get one!” said Genji.

“I’m terribly out of practice—” Hanzo started but Genji broke away from Mercy and grabbed his arm.

 “Come on!” he said, leading him off, “You could catch a mejina! Like the old days!”

“We’re in Gibraltar–The fish aren’t the same here–” Hanzo was protesting but let Genji drag him off. 

McCree watched as they two brothers went off, the muscles in Hanzo’s back, sparkling with salt and shifting as he tried to keep up.

“You’re staring again,” said Mercy, as soon as the Shimada brothers were out of earshot.

“What?” said McCree, snapping his eyes away from Hanzo. “Who’s staring? I wasn’t– Look, I was his probationary officer. It was my job. It’s all force of habit.”

“Wow,” said Brigitte.

“What?!” said McCree.

“Wow,” Brigitte said again.

 Mercy and Torbjörn just cracked open new cans of beer.

[hushman]

Curse you Pidge the Paladin

Summary:

Pidge the Paladin (known also as Agent P) is an agent for O.W.C.A. (the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym) and dedicated to helping keep the world safe. She does this by stopping the "nefarious” schemes of “Evil Genius” Lance McClain, founder of Lance McClain Evil Inc. and evil invention tester for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. (the League Of Villainous Evildoers Maniacally United For Frightening Investments in Naughtiness). Armed with the best untested equipment L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. can supply him with, Lance will work tirelessly on his plans for global conquest, unless it's on the weekends, after 5pm or if he’s takes a personal day. Taking over the world is all fine and dandy but a good work-life balance is essential.

Rating: Everyone

Tags: Comedy, adventure,

My entry for the Plance Mini Bang over at @planceminibang

Special thank you to @oddreycharge for Beta reading this and to @perrytheplatypusgirl for making a gorgeous piece of art for this fic.

Check it here

You can read the story below or you can read it over at Archive of our Own

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764709

Enjoy

****

Pidge, hotshot O.W.C.A. agent, arrived in her secret base in a teal smart suit, orange tie, brown fedora, and black-rimmed glasses. She sat down in her chair in front of a screen as her boss, Coran Smythe, appeared onscreen.

“Greetings, Agent P,” Coran said. “Our intelligence shows strange frequencies being transmitted from the headquarters of Lance McClain as well as “how to detect increase in bird behaviour” on his web history. Your mission is to go there and put a stop to whatever nefarious scheme he is up to. Best of luck, Agent P.”

Pidge gave a salute, climbed into her jet-powered hover car, and flew off just as her theme song was starting.

Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Dooby dooby doo-bah Pidge!

She's a computer savvy, tech loving lady of action! (Dooby dooby doo-bah) (Dooby dooby doo-bah) She's a scrappy young hacker, Who'll never flinch from a fray-ee-ay-ee-ay!

She's got more than just all that, Fe(Wah-ah-ah) She's got a snazzy suit and a hat, Fe(ah-ah) And the men all swoon whenever they hear her sa-a-a-ay

“Hold up, who said anything about swooning?”

She’s Pidge, Pidge the Paladin But you can call her Agent P. Pidge! I said you can call her Agent P! A-gent-P!

A short flight later, she arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated by crashing through a skylight.

Waiting for her was Lance McClain in a lab coat and holding a remote.

“Ah, Pidge the Paladin, what an unexpected surprise,” Lance commented. “And by that I mean entirely expected!”

Lance pushed a button. A massive pole popped behind Pidge. Before she could react, a stream of bola flew in, tying her to the pole.

“It appears you have fallen for my cunning trap.”

“Cunning trap?” Pidge deadpanned. “This is the third time you've tried to use this thing. You even marked out on the floor where you wanted me to stand.”

“And yet, you fell for it,” Lance crowed in rebuttal.

Pidge gave as much of a shrug as her restraints allowed. “I wanted to see if you had fixed the aim on the bola launchers.”

Lance pursed his lips. “Fine, act all high and mighty tied to that pole while I enact my evil scheme.”

“And by “enact”, you mean tell some backstory to justify whatever hairbrained scheme and device you have today.”

Lance ignored this jab as he introduced his latest “tragic backstory”.

“You see, it harkens back to my miserable youth spent in my cold and unforgiving fatherland.”

“You grew up in Cuba.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Lance snapped back before continuing. "My siblings have always despised me."

"Just last week, you said Veronica was wrapped around your little finger and loved you with all her heart."

"That was last week,” Lance dismissed. “As I was saying, I was left to face the endless shame and ridicule from my elder siblings. But no more! Finally, they shall learn true terror with this: the Fowlagitationinator!”

Lance flung his arms flamboyantly towards the glorified satellite dish.

“So what exactly does it do?” Pidge asked.

“I am so very glad you asked.” Lance paused briefly as he failed to discreetly pull back his sleeve notes. “This device will emit a frequency that will increase the aggression in every bird within the city.” He read monotonously, “All urban activities will grind to a halt as everyone is terrorised by millions of feathery foes, leaving the city ripe for the taking.” His voice and arms pitched in confidence, dropping his speaker notes in the process.

“Millions?” Pidge raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re overestimating the city’s bird population.”

“I was going for dramatic effect.” Lance let out a groan. “Look, you’re here to thwart my schemes, not criticise them.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge conceded. “Speaking of thwart...”

At that moment, the restraints fell off her body.

“So, did it actually take you this long to escape, or were you waiting for me to finish talking?”

“Didn’t want to be rude.”

Pidge pounced at Lance with a jump kick. The man dodged with a last minute swivel, just barely missing Pidge’s boot. While the first strike had not connected, it had placed her between Lance and the device. He tried to throw a right hook at her. Pidge ducked and delivered a double palm strike to Lance’s abdomen.

“Your gut feels firmer,” Pidge commented. “Have you been working out?”

“Why yes, I have. Thank you for noti..Argh!” Lance was interrupted by Pidge flooring him with a roundhouse kick.

“Are you ever going to not fall for the compliment sucker punch?” The agent snorted.

She fell to ground with a yelp when Lance yanked one of her legs.

“It’s not a crime to appreciate it when you notice the effort I put into this body,” Lance replied as he stood up and wiped his mouth to check for blood. “Speaking of which, would you stop going for the face?”

“Sure.”

Lance managed to catch Pidge’s foot before it connected with his groin.

“Not what I meant.”

Lance flung Pidge by her leg across the room, causing her to hit the brick wall with a crash. He raced to press the large red button on the device. Pidge fired her grappling gun. The cable shot out, wrapping around Lance’s arm and pulling him back. He managed to get his arm free from his lab coat in time to bring his guard up against a furious onslaught of limbs.

What followed was a series of back-and-forth blows. While Lance had a higher endurance, Pidge was harder to hit. This continued unabated until he picked up a nearby chair. Pidge snatched a stool of her own.

Before either of them could take a swing, a ringtone interrupted the battle. Both Lance and Pidge put down the chairs.

“Is that your phone or mine?” Lance asked.

“Yours,” Pidge replied. “I changed my ringtone last week.”

“Huh.” Lance checked his phone. “It’s my brother. I’d better take this.”

Pidge nodded her consent as Lance answered the phone.

“Hey Luis, how’s it going?...Not too bad. Same old, same old...Yeah, she’s here to thwart my scheme...Nah, it’s fine, what’s up? Sure I can watch them tonight...not a problem at all...You’ll be here at 7? Yeah, that's fine.” Lance looked up and saw Pidge pointing to her watch. “Listen I’d better get back to work but I’ll see you tonight...Love you too.”

Lance hung up and put away the phone.

“Thanks for that, so do you want go back to chairs?”

“Nah, the moment’s gone.”

“Fair enough.”

Pidge proceeded to duck and perform a leg sweep, causing Lance to fall to the ground. As he picked himself up, Pidge raced over to the device. She pushed the self-destruct button and pulled out her grappling gun. She fired out a line, yanking herself through the skylight as the device exploded.

“CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” Lance yelled.

Once he was certain was alone, he picked up a broom and started cleaning up the debris.

“You know, just once, it would be nice for her to stick around to help with the clean up.”

****

Lance had just finished sending his report to head office when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and was tackled by two blurs of energy.

“Come on you two, don’t break Uncle Lance within the first two minutes.”

“Hey, I can take it,” Lance laughed. “How about you both pick a game on the gameflux?”

At that sentence, the two raced off to where the gameflux was set up.

“I swear that thing is 90% of the reason they like me babysitting,” Lance commented.

“Well, that and the fact you usually offer pizza,” Luis said. “So you okay? You’re developing a bit of a bruise.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lance replied. “The agent O.W.C.A. assigned to me just got a lucky hit in.”

“The compliment sucker punch?” Luis asked.

“Gets me every time.”

“You know, man, you really need to see about getting out of that franchise.”

“Eh…” Lance gave a non-committal shrug. “It’s not that bad. Besides, we both know it takes three million dollars to buy out of the place before the two years are up. I got into this mess. I can take the lumps to wait it out.”

“Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“Trust me it’s fine. Sure, that woman kicks my butt on a regular basis, but at least we’re keeping things professional.”

Luis rolled his eyes. “Only you would consider being punched in the face as professional.”

“Well, it kinda is her job to punch me in the face since I am technically trying to take over the city slash country slash world.”

“That sounds like the best job in the world.”

“Love you too, bro.”

With a quick hug, Luis left. 20 minutes after watching his niece and nephew screech at each other in Combat Cousins X, Lance heard the doorbell.

He answered the door. Standing there was Katie Holt, holding a couple of pizza boxes.

“Battle supplies as requested,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks, Katie. You're a lifesaver.”

“Oh please, considering the stuff I’ve seen you survive, you’re practically immortal,” Katie replied flippantly.

Lance scowled at her suspiciously. “What exactly have you seen me survive?”

“For starters, Charlene LeManche.”

“Objection withdrawn.”

Katie’s watch started vibrating.

“Excuse me.”

She stepped out onto the balcony. Satisfied that Lance had given her privacy, she activated her watch to see an image of Coran.

“Hope I’m not bothering, Agent P,” Coran said. “I just wanted to congratulate you another job well done.”

“Thanks, Coran. Though if you don’t mind, I’d better head back inside. Secret identity to maintain and all that.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Agent P.”

Katie hung up on Coran and went back inside. Tomorrow, she would probably be kicking Lance’s butt again, but she was perfectly satisfied with beating him at Pancake Dojo 2 whilst enjoying a slice of pepperoni pizza tonight.

****

It was Tuesday morning. Lance had finished his breakfast and was savouring the first sip of coffee. The blissful start was interrupted by the doorbell. He answered the door to find several men with crates.

“Morning, guys,” Lance said as he stepped aside to let the movers in.

After everything was moved into the open space “Evil Lair” area, Lance got to work opening first crate.

“Alright, let’s see what L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. cooked up for me today.”

Lance pulled out a letter from his superior. The latest device was something called the Vapourmatroninator. Apparently, there was a little extra assembly required.

After all the other crates were opened, Lance realised that that by “a little extra assembly”, they meant that this assemble would be bigger than a minivan, yet not a single piece was bigger than the palm of his hand.

“No worries. So long as the instructions are clear, I’ll just work through it piece by piece.”

Not only were the instructions incomprehensible, Lance wasn’t even sure that it was in English. After an hour of failing to make any headway, he picked up his phone.

“Hey Hunk, I need some help with building the latest world conquest machine… I know what I’m doing. It’s these instructions that make no sense...Look, can you come help me without making fun of me?...Alright, but can you still come or not?...Thanks, Hunk. You’re the best.”

****

Pidge kicked open the door to Lance McClain Evil Inc. at 4 p.m. on the dot.

She was ready to get her thwart on when she saw Hunk working on the device. He looked up to see Pidge standing there.

“Katie? What are you doing here?” Hunk asked. “And what are you wearing?”

Before Pidge could answer, Lance walked in.

“Hi Pidge, sorry I’m running a little behind so I had to call in some help.”

“Wait, this is Pidge?” Hunk asked in disbelief.

“Oh right, where are my manners?” Lance said. “Hunk, this is my nemesis Pidge. Pidge, this is my friend Hunk.”

“This is Pidge?” Hunk asked again. “As in the person that thwarts your plans daily.”

“Well, it's more of a Monday to Friday basis, gotta keep that work life balance, but yes. That’s her.” Lance answered “What’s your point?”

“Lance, that’s...argh!”

Hunk was interrupted by Pidge grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back.

“Shut up,” Pidge hissed to Hunk. “Play along and I’ll explain everything later.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Pidge! Let him go this instant!” Lance scolded.

Pidge complied.

“Hunk doesn’t work for L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. He's just helping me out as a favour. Do whatever you want with me, but I will not have you attacking my friends!”

Pidge looked genuinely remorseful as Lance took out some money and handed it to her.

“Now you are going to say sorry to Hunk, and then you’re going to go the donut shop and pick up a dozen lemon cream-filled donuts with passionfruit sprinkles. When you get back, he should be done with the Inator and then you can thwart me.”

Pidge complied, sending Hunk one last pleading looking before heading out the door.

“Sorry about that,” Lance said to Hunk. “She honestly isn’t that bad, she’s just a little wound up at times.”

Hunk eyed Lance with utter astonishment.

“And she doesn’t remind you of anyone?” He pressed.

Lance paused thoughtfully.

“Now that you mention it, with that fedora, she kinda looks like Indiana Jones.”

“You think she looks like Indiana Jones?” Hunk asked, clearly not sure how to react.

“Kinda.”

“So when are you next due for an eye exam?”

“Next year, I think. Why?”

“Might want to move that forward.”

****

Pidge arrived with the donuts just as Hunk finished assembling the Inator. She handed them over Hunk he packed up his tools.

“Well, I better be out of your way,” he declared as he headed for the door with tools and donuts in tow.

“Leaving so soon?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, as much fun as it would be to watch you getting thwarted, I’d rather not watch the device I worked so hard on get destroyed.”

“Fair enough, catch ya later.”

Hunk shot Pidge a meaningful glance before leaving.

He hopped in the elevator and waited for the ding signalling the ground floor. Just as he exited the building, the Vapourmatroninator crashed onto the sidewalk, inches from his ears.

He could faintly hear Lance yell, “CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!”

****

A while later, Hunk and Pidge, in her civilian attire, were at Hunk’s favourite sandwich place. Only after he was halfway through his sandwich was he ready to address the elephant in the room.

“Alright, Katie, tell me what the heck is going on.”

“Okay.” Pidge took in a deep breath. “You remember that internship I took with a think tank? Well, that think tank is a secret government agency, and that internship is more of a field agent position.”

“So, who do you work for? The CIA?”

“No, I work for O.W.C.A., the Organisation Without a Cool Acronym.” Pidge watched Hunk raise an eyebrow. “Look, the name isn’t great, but they do good work.”

“And why exactly are you kicking Lance’s butt on a daily basis?”

“When Lance signed on to an employment contract with L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. that marked him as an ‘evil genius’, O.W.C.A. protocol is to assign an agent to be a nemesis to every evil genius. This was my first nemesis assignment, so the higher ups wanted to assign me to something lighter to chew on.”

“And the fact that you and Lance being friends isn’t against policy?”

“It would be if Lance recognised me,” Pidge explained. “I would get reassigned and he would get a new nemesis. I’ve been busting his scheme for nearly a year, and I thank whatever miracle that he still hasn’t worked out that I’m his nemesis.”

“How can he not know? All you do is put on a hat and glasses. You don’t even change your voice!”

“Look, are we really going to debate Lance’s intelligence? He has some strong suits, but he signed on to an evil organisation because their name was L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. And it took three weeks of being friends with him before he realised I was a girl.”

“To be fair, we were 12 at the time, but I see your point,” Hunk conceded. “But why stay as Lance’s nemesis? Franchise or not, you know Lance isn’t evil. Wouldn’t you rather spend your time taking down real bad guys?”

“Three reasons,” Pidge explained. “First, if I don’t do it, O.W.C.A. will send someone else, someone who will actually think he's evil. Second, Lance has been a surprisingly useful asset in undermining L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.

Any tech that fails with Lance tends to get scrapped, so stopping Lance also prevents some of the actually dangerous tech from being used by actual evil geniuses.”

“And the third?”

“Being Lance’s nemesis means that my work day is usually done by 5 and I get weekends off. Nothing wrong with appreciating a good work/life balance.”

Hunk rolled his eyes at this. “Alright, so what happens now?”

“Well it’s up to you,” Pidge explained. “Standard procedure would be to take you in to have your memory erased.”

Hunk choked on a piece of sandwich. A long sip of his drink helped him to speak again.

“Erase my memory?”

“Just the events of today,” Pidge assured him. “But if you promised to keep this secret under wraps I could conveniently forget the part where you recognised me when I file my report.”

Hunk deliberated for a moment. “Alright, I don’t like keeping this from Lance, but I’m not risking forgetting my great aunt’s banoffee pie recipe over this.”

“Thanks Hunk,” Pidge said gratefully.

“Though if you ask me, the real reason you like this gig is because you get to spend all your time with Lance.” Hunk emphasised his statement with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Pidge glared at Hunk. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Hunk singsonged.

Pidge was about to respond only to let out a cough.

“You alright?”

“It’s nothing,” Pidge replied.

****

Wednesday morning was somewhat easier for Lance. The day’s Inator came in mostly assembled. So now all he had to do was wait for Pidge to arrive.

An hour later still had no Pidge. He was starting to worry. Just then, his phone rang. He answered for only to have his ear fill with the noise of hacking.

“Hey Lance,” Katie said in between coughs. “Sorry I can't make game night.”

“Jeez Katie, you don’t sound good.”

“It’s fine, just gotta rest up and I’ll recover soon.” She let out more coughs.

After hanging up with his friend, Lance felt conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. He really wanted to check on Katie, but he was also meant to be trying to take over the city in time to get thwarted.

It certainly was a dilemma.

****

Allura the Altruist was on her way home from stopping her nemesis when she got a call from Coran.

“Great work, Agent A. Though would you stopping by Lance McClain Evil Inc? Agent P is not feeling well.”

“Right away, Coran.”

Flying her car over to Lance’s evil lair, she parked her car on the roof and dropped elegantly through the sky light, ready to battle. To her surprise, the lair was completely abandoned. She then noticed a large device in plain sight with a note attached.

Dear Pidge,

Sorry I can’t be there. Had to go check on a sick friend. I’ve marked out the self destruct button. See you tomorrow.

Lance McClain

P.S. Curse you, Pidge the Paladin!

Against her better judgement, Allura pressed the marked out button. As she left the ruins of the lair, she couldn’t help but wonder if O.W.C.A should reassess Lance’s threat level.

****

“Here you are, Katie,” Lance said as he carried in a steaming bowl of soup.

“Thank you,” the sick girl wheezed as she took the soup. “You didn’t have to come over to take care of me. Don’t you have work?”

“It's all good,” Lance said dismissively. “I’ve got it covered. Besides, I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

Katie blushed. If asked, she would claim it was fever.

****

On Thursday, a recovered Pidge arrived at Lance McClain Evil Incorporated, refreshed and ready for a day of thwarting. She flew in through an open window. As she arrived in the lair, she realised Lance wasn’t there.

“Er...hello?”

“Pidge! I’ll be right there,” Lance called out before coughing.

A dishevelled and ill-looking Lance stepped into the lair. He was still in his pyjamas and his lab coat was crooked.

“What a...an unexpected sur…” Lance started coughing again. “Sorry, think I might’ve caught something from my friend.”

Pidge looked at Lance in dismay. “You should be in bed,” she scolded.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lance insisted. “So, behold my… achoo!.... Latest invention the...Something...inator!”

Lance gestured towards a crate that was barely even opened.

“With this I...shall take over the...world.” Lance’s half-hearted speech was shot through with more coughing.

“Lance, seriously, go to bed. I can come back and stop you tomorrow.”

“No, I flaked on you yesterday. I’m not going to do it twice.” Lance raised his fists, staggering slightly as he fought to keep balance. “Thwart me if you dare.”

Rather than fight, Pidge took hold of his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. She pushed him into a chair and silently heated up a can of chicken soup. She plopped the bowl in front of him and said, “Eat.” After making him eat all of it, she hauled him to his bedroom. She took off his lab coat and pushed him into his bed.

“There,” she quipped as she draped a blanket over him. “I’ve thwarted you. Now get some rest.”

“Curse you Pidge the...zzzzz,” Lance was asleep before he was even able to finish his sentence.

Not too long after, Katie arrived to check up on Lance.

****

Friday came as Pidge arrived at the hideout.

“Ah Pidge the Paladin, so nice to see you,” Lance greeted. “Sorry about dropping the ball the last couple of days. Still, I promise to make up for it as I unleash my TRINITY OF TERROR!”

There was a dramatic orchestra and flashes of lightning.

“Head office finally approved your effects budget?” PIdge asked.

“Why yes, thank you for noticing. Anyhoo, behold! The Degravitinator!” Lance held out a handheld, ray-gun-looking device. “Capable of disrupting the personal gravity of its victims. Behold the Plantinator!” He gestured towards a device with a large antenna. “Capable of sending out a pulse that will cause all the plants in the city area to grow at an uncontrollable rate. And finally the DX7J.” He pointed to a large cubic machine. “Capable of...something equally evil, I guess.” He noticed Pidge’s raising eyebrow. “Cut me some slack, not only did I have to finish building yesterday’s device, head office sent me two inators instead of one today. It's a miracle I know what the first two do.”

“And you had time to set up the special effects?”

“Look, are we going to fight or waste time criticizing my workplace priorities?”

Lance jumped back just in time to dodge a right hook from Pidge. He aimed the ray gun at Pidge and fired. Pidge jumped out of the way, narrowing missing the purple ray that shot out. The ray instead hit a nearby couch. It glowed purple as it started to float. Lance continued firing at Pidge. The agent kept ducking until a desk, several crates and a metal barrel were floating.

“Darn it!” Lance muttered. “Why didn’t they put a decent sight on this thing?”

Pidge leapt onto a floating crate, hoping to get high ground. She leapt to another crate to avoid the ray. She finally lunged at Lance with a flying kick. The kick hit Lance squarely in the chest before he could let out another shot. He fell back to the ground and accidentally pulled the trigger.

A purple beam shot out and hit the Plantinator. The Inator started to float in the air. Seeing her opportunity, Pidge kicked with all her might. It flew out the open balcony door. It then came to a rest between the two buildings.

Both Lance and Pidge stared at the floating Inator.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was expecting,” Pidge admitted.

“Well, we can’t leave that out there,” Lance said. “Eventually, the ray will wear off, and it'll fall onto incoming traffic. I already got a citation for what happened with the Vapourmatroninator. I don’t need another.”

“Fair enough, any ideas?”

“Do you have your grappling gun?”

“In shop getting a tune up. You?”

“The winch on mine broke and I’m still waiting for the replacement to arrive. How about your hover car?”

“Came here on the moped today.”

“Fair enough.”

Lance turned a dial on the ray gun and aimed it at the floating Inator. He fired a red ray that vapourised the floating inator.

“That thing has a disintegrator setting?” Pidge asked in shock.

“Yeah, you really think that would be the main feature of this thing.”

“If it could do that, then why were you bothering with the gravity setting?”

“I’m not firing a disintegrator ray in my own lair,” Lance said indignantly.

“That’s surprisingly responsible of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Still got to destroy it.”

“Fair enough,” Lance replied as he turned the ray gun back to gravity mode.

Lance spun round, firing the ray gun at Pidge. Pidge dropped and sweeped out Lance’s legs, causing him fall flat on his back. “Nice move,” Lance said, winded but clearly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Pidge picked up the nearby raygun and smashed it against the handrail. She then started to head back inside to deal with the DX7J only for Lance to snatch her foot, tripping her up.

Lance scurried to place himself between Pidge and the DX7J.

What followed was another fist fight. Lance was holding his own until Pidge hit him with kick to the gut, knocking him backwards.

Lance bumped into the DX7J, turning it on. Sounds of moving parts and sloshing liquid echoed in the machine. Shortly afterwards, there was a loud ding and a small hatch on the device opened to reveal a cup of steaming liquid.

Curious, Lance picked up the cup and sniffed it. He then proceeded to take a sip, much to the panic of Pidge.

“False alarm,” Lance said. “This isn’t an Inator. It’s the coffee machine I ordered.”

“You ordered a coffee machine?”

“Yeah, and not just any coffee machine. This is top of the line, does everything from expressos to cappuccinos.”

“That sounds pricey.”

“I charged it to the head office,” Lance replied. “They’re an evil organisation trying to take over the world - the least they can do is fuel my caffeine addiction.” He proceeded to take another sip from his coffee.

Pidge nodded; she couldn’t really fault the logic.

“Wait, does that mean I already thwarted you?” She questioned.

Lance paused his drinking.

“Huh...I guess so...Oh well. CURSE YOU, PIDGE THE PALADIN!” He hollered before returning to his normal tone. “Do you want a coffee for the road? I’ve got a travel mug I can lend you.”

“Can that machine do a Chai Latte?”

Lance scoffed. “Do you honestly think I would charge my boss top dollar for a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

****

“So glad we managed to switch game night,” Lance said as he brought in a bowl of chips.

“I’m just glad neither of us are mucus factories anymore,” Pidge commented.

“I’m just glad I didn’t catch it,” Hunk commented. “So care to explain how all that stuff is floating?”

“Today’s evil invention was an antigravity ray.”

“Antigravity ray?” Hunk repeated in surprise. “How does that work?”

“I aimed the ray gun, pulled the trigger and then whatever got zapped with it would start floating.”

“No, I mean…” Hunk paused as the realisation of who he was talking to struck. “Nevermind.”

“I don’t get what the end game was,” Pidge commented “As cool as it is, I just don’t get how your bosses expected you to take over the world with an antigravity ray.”

“They don’t really look at how so much as they just throw whatever random idea that comes to them at me and wait to see what happens.” Lance explained. “I’m still not sure how I was supposed to take over the world with an iguana cannon.”

“Buddy, you really need to get out of this gig,” Hunk affirmed.

“Would love to, but we all know that’s not going to happen until my contract expires. Besides it's not so bad. I set my own hours, I don’t pay rent on this place and I now have a coffee machine. Speaking of coffee, you guys want one? It's pretty good.”

“I’m good,” Hunk said.

“Chai Latte, please,” Pidge requested absentmindedly.

Lance paused and stared at Pidge suspiciously.

“How do you know it can do Chai Lattes?”

“Would you honestly invest in a coffee machine that couldn’t do Chai Lattes?”

Lance let out a laugh.

“You got me there. One Chai Latte coming up."

As Lance went over to the coffee machine, Hunk turned to Pidge.

“You know, eventually, he is going to figure it out.”

“Agree to disagree,” Pidge replied as she watched Lance come back with her latte.

Lance handed to the latte to her. As she took a sip, Lance spoke.

“So guys, I’ve been wondering. Should I invite Pidge to join us for games night?”

PIdge did a spit take.

“Sorry,” she sputtered. “It’s a little hot.”

Hunk kept his composure.

“You want to invite the person whose job is to kick your butt on a daily basis to games night?”

“Alright firstly, I can hold my own just fine.”

“Have you ever stopped her from destroying your stuff?”

“Well, no, but that’s not the point,” Lance argued. “Neither of us take the whole thwarting thing personally, and she’s the closest thing I have to a work colleague that I actually like.”

“You like her?” Pidge asked, not really sure how to process this.

“Well sure, she’s skilled, self assured, witty and honestly kind of a badass,” Lance replied.

“She also wails on you almost every time you face off,” Hunk added.

“No one’s perfect,” Lance replied. “Come on, what could it hurt to ask her? If she says yes, it will be a chance to get to know her better.”

“If you feel so strongly, I think you should do it,” Pidge replied.

“What?” Hunk said in dismay.

“Great, next time I see her I’ll ask,” He looked down and realised his hands were empty. “Whoops, forgot my coffee.”

As he went to get it, Hunk turned back to Pidge.

“I know this week has been full of shocking revelations, but how do you plan to be two places at once?”

“I won’t have to,” Pidge replied. “I’ll simply say that O.W.C.A. forbids me from fraternising with supervillains outside of work.”

“You know that’s only going to be a temporary fix.”

“It will do for now,” Pidge replied. “I’ll cross that bridge when I reach it.”

“Yup,” Hunk replied. “Keep telling yourself that.”

[ecto-american]

Accident

DannyMay 2019 themed story, I’m not late I’m just going my own pace pls be nice to me

Ectoplasm | Broken | Glass | Theory | Community | Eavesdropping | Worldbuilding | Or Read on AO3.

Day 13: Accident

This was going to be a long night.

Jazz had been quiet most of the trip home, staring out the window and listening to the radio softly. Jack didn't try to make conversation either. He knew something was off, and Jazz was involved. Somehow. His mind continued to flip through possible theories, but none clicked. They pulled into the driveway silently.

"Alright, Jazzpants," he tried to speak cheerfully, but he knew it fell flat. "I'm going to bring your mom's things in, get packed myself, and get her stuff, and we'll be off back to the college tour!" Jazz simply nodded. "Meanwhile, can you go ahead and start cleaning up some of the ectoplasm in the kitchen?" Jazz was quiet.

"...Yeah, I can see what I can do," she finally said. Jack forced a smile, and he hopped out of the RV, Jazz following suit. He grabbed Maddie's suitcase as Jazz went ahead inside.

Jack followed her soon after, closing the front door behind him.

"Danny? You home?" he called out hopefully. There was no reply, and he went into the kitchen to see Jazz curiously opening up the pizza box. Danny's phone was still on the counter, and the note was left untouched.

"Do you think this pizza's still good?" Jazz wondered. "Like can I heat some up?"

"Oh yeah, go ahead," he encouraged her. "Can you heat me up a plate too? We have time to watch that one show you like if you want, the one with the science lady? It should have recorded."

It hurt that Danny seemingly was going to skip out on Jack's impromptu father-son night. Perhaps another time… At least he could have a nice quick dinner and some father-daughter time. And by judging how Jazz seemed to smile for the first time since she and Maddie got there, she seemed to enjoy the idea.

"Yeah, I'll just heat it up in the oven, it tastes better when you do that," Jazz insisted. She carefully avoided all the ectoplasm all over, and she began to dig through the cabinets.

"Let me know when it's done, I'm going to pack and get some stuff for your mom," Jack replied. Jazz gave out an 'okay!' as she continued her search. Jack took Maddie's bag upstairs.

He could tell that despite the cleaning, there was still a lot of ectoplasm in the carpet. It was making the carpet hard and rough as the mixture had dried. Oh well. Least he got a lot out already.

Despite the evidence pointing otherwise, Jack still took a step into his son's room and called for him once more. Hoping that somehow, his son had just sleepily wandered in and missed everything, going straight for bed. The room was void of any life, and there was no sign somebody had stopped by.

Jack moved to his own room to begin packing. He left Maddie's suitcase on the bed for her to unpack later, and he took out the other suitcase.

He could hear Jazz coming up the stairs quickly, and he paused. She went into one of the rooms. Probably her room. Jack didn't put any thought into it, and he continued his packing. But then he heard the knocking, and he stopped to listen. Knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock, knock. Jazz's footsteps soon hopped back down the stairs quickly, only to run back up less than a minute later. What on Earth?

He poked his head into the hall just in time to see long orange hair go into Danny's room. Jack immediately followed as the knocking came back up.

Jazz had her ear pressed to the walls near Danny's bed, and she would knock. In her hand, she held a large knife. Jack watched her silently. After several more knocks, Jazz finally stopped. She took the knife and stuck it into the wall.

"Jasmine Fenton!" Jack suddenly spoke, and Jazz jumped in fright, spinning with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I-uh, I'm," she began to sputter out nervously, glancing between her dad and the knife stuck in the wall.

Jack studied her for a good long while as Jazz offered up no explanation. Instead, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, arms crossed over her chest as she rocked on her heels. Her behavior was so out of character. Her concern for Phantom. Seemingly less concern about where her brother is. Why she was placing staying with a ghost in the hospital over her college tour. His last theory, the wildest one, was somehow the most reasonable.

"He's Danny, isn't he?" Jack questioned.

"Of course, his name's Danny Phantom, so like, of course he's Danny," Jazz replied quickly with a nervous chuckle.

"...Jazz…"

Her lower lip quivered hard, and the waterworks began again. Jazz sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve once more. The jig was up.

"Why didn't you tell me that Skulker tried to skin him?" she demanded to know. "He had to tell me himself!"

"He couldn't have told you anything," Jack lightly argued. "You apparently guessed. Was it that plausible of a choice that you were able to guess?" Jazz flinched. "Why didn't you tell us?" Jazz frowned.

"Molecule. By. Molecule."

Oh. Right. Jack returned his attention back to the knife.

"...Why are you cutting holes into Danny's wall?" he asked. Jazz glanced at the knife.

"Danny hides stuff in the walls of his room. Things he wants to keep secret," she began. "He'll phase them into the wall. I know somewhere he has some modified ecto-dejecto that he'll drink to help him stay energized." Jack stared at her.

"Modified ecto-dejecto? That stuff Mads and I made to weaken a ghost?" he questioned curiously.

"Yeah. Your original formula made them more powerful," Jazz explained. "But Danny also took your original formula, and he modified it to be kind of an energy drink. So he can stay in his ghost form longer and have more energy to fight." She reached up to grasp the handle of the knife. "Danny's ghost form isn't unlimited. Sooner or later, he's going to pass out and turn ghost again. Especially if he's going under for surgery. I was...I was going to sneak him some."

Oh god. Oh no. His son was a ghost. And in the hospital. Where the Guys in White were. A shiver of horror ran up his spine. This was bad. And his son was a ghost. His son was a ghost. And not just a ghost, his son was Danny Phantom. That ghost he was so close to dissecting. A ghost he had dreams about dissecting and studying his organs. A ghost he was going to encourage Maddie to collect samples from while in his most vulnerable state, when that was his son who was badly injured from a ghost fight with another ghost and needed his parents more than anything. Oh god.

Jack felt a bit lightheaded, and he immediately took a step to the side to sit on Danny's bed. He felt ill. All the ectoplasm and blood stains on the bed...Oh god. How many times were those injuries were from him and his mother?

He stared up at Jazz as she began to continue cutting through the wall with some struggle.

"How did this all happen?" Jack asked quietly. Jazz glanced briefly at him as she continue to stab through the drywall.

"The summer before Danny began high school," she replied. She paused for a moment before shifting to continue cutting a small square in the wall. "He was in the ghost portal when it turned on. You know. The accident."

The ghost portal…

Danny always told him that it just seemed to flick on when he was down there showing his friends. That it sparked to life. Maddie and him had determined that maybe it was just a delayed timing, or that maybe Danny or his friends were pushing the buttons and a magic combo had made it turn on. And that he just was too nervous to admit that he was fiddling with his parents' things in the lab. To be in the lab. Inside when it turned on...Jack couldn't imagine the kind of intense pain that came with that high voltage shock.

"And he became a ghost?" Jack questioned. "How? What happened exactly?"

Jazz finished cutting. She used the knife the begin forcing the square out of the wall, the piece wiggling.

"Danny's half ghost," she clarified. "...I don't know for sure. I wasn't there. And Danny doesn't like to talk about it. I've asked him before, but he said he doesn't like to think about it. I've asked Tucker and Sam too, but they don't really say much either. I'm guessing it just brings up too many bad memories."

She got the piece out, setting it and the knife on Danny's nightstand. Jack never felt like a worse parent. Jazz used her phone's flashlight to look in the hole, and she smiled in relief. She reached her hand inside to dig around.

"How did you find out?" Jack wondered. He prayed deep down that Danny didn't tell her. It already hurt so much to know that Danny refused to tell him and Maddie. Even despite him coming home.

Oh god, Phantom was coming home. This was his home.

"I accidentally saw him go ghost," she said. The reply gave an odd relief. "Got it!"

She pulled out a fistful of small bottles, glass bottles that Jack and Maddie had assumed Danny had accidentally dropped and broken, like he had so many in the past. Oh no. That was only after Danny went into high school. When his ghost form would have been still stabilizing. Intangibility.

The bottles were full of a bright green, slightly glowing liquid. There was a piece of tape on the bottles, labeling them. Ecto-Dejecto Energy Drink.

"And this will help Danny stay safe in the hospital?" Jack questioned. Jazz shrugged.

"I can't say for sure," she confessed. "But if nothing else, it'll help give Danny some energy to stay a ghost. Hopefully even enough that he won't turn human again under the knife. It's just the only thing I really know right now. I tried calling Sam and Tucker, but neither one of them are answering."

"Is this the worst Danny's ever been injured?" Jack wondered. Jazz studied him for a moment.

"I think any other questions you have, you really should just ask Danny," she finally spoke. "It's not my thing to discuss. And he could give you better answers anyway."

"But-" Jack began to protest.

"But nothing. Danny's really hurt, and I'm sure he'd really like to have you and Mom there fully supporting him," Jazz argued. "And me."

Jack sighed, hanging his head as a million thoughts tried to rush through his mind. So many questions…and the one who knew all the answers in full couldn't talk.

"Come on," Jazz tried to encourage him. He felt Jazz wrap her arms around him in a hug. "Let's eat some dinner then go see Danny."

The entire ride back to the hospital was still silent, but with less tension. For the first time since he came home, Jack felt some form of ease. He knew where his son was. And even though he was in rough condition, he was in great hands. Though there was an entirely new anxiety, this new secret he had to protect.

Jazz was walking ahead of him quickly to the room they were told he was in. She found it before him, and she disappeared into it. By the time he reached the door, Maddie was leaving the room, looking a bit curious but smiling when she saw him.

"Hey," she greeted him. Jack smiled weakly back, and he handed her a backpack.

"Hey, baby. Brought the chargers and such," he told her. Maddie happily accepted the backpack, swinging it onto her back.

"I learned a lot about Phantom so far," Maddie began, digging her phone from her pocket to show him. "He has a human-like skeletal system. He's able to take in human-like medications and react to them. And he spoke a bit about his personal life."

Jack studied the notes on her phone that she had taken. He went from curiously scanning the pages to growing more and more somber. He soon gave a deep, hard exhale. This was one of the hardest things he'd ever have to admit to her.

"I have...I have to talk to you about Phantom," Jack finally spoke. They locked eyes, and Maddie's heart sank deep into her stomach. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"No," she whispered. Jack handed her back her phone, looking away.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," he lightly protested.

"It's not possible," Maddie argued weakly.

"It explains everything," Jack breathed. "It connects every dot. The similarities, the problems at school, the secrets-"

"Jack, it can't be," Maddie was barely holding back tears as the flood of emotions was washing over her. She put her hand over her mouth as she tried to think. Tried to find an argument, something to counteract against the conclusion Jack had come to. A conclusion that had begun to grow in the back of her own mind that she refused to let settle.

"Maddie…"

Maddie took a deep breath. Her eyes moved to look at Phantom. He was sitting upright in his hospital bed as he interacted with Jazz. She was talking to him with a serious expression. Phantom was so comfortable around his sister.

"My baby," Maddie spoke softly. The truth was more painful than any injury.

[recentanimenews]

5 Answers To Pokémon Questions That You've Always Had

  The Pokémon world is full of mysteries. Heck, most of the endings of the original anime said so, with the narrator being like "Once again, Ash learned that the Pokémon world is a mysterious one, but one thing is for sure: He'd never forget Leon and his wonderful Metapod circus." And while Ash Ketchum would immediately forget Leon and every person that wasn't currently within arm's length of him, that mystery part still holds true.

  When I was a kid, most of my life dealt with trying to sift through Pokémon urban legends, usually distributed by my friend Trevor, who would come to fifth grade telling us stuff about Pikablu and Ash's Dad like an old timey snake oil salesman who rode into Western towns on a wagon filled with "miracle elixers." Only in Trevor's case, those elixers were just torn-out pages of Nintendo Power.

But if you ever had a Trevor in your life, you probably wound up with more Pokéquestions than Pokéanswers. And that's where I come in. See, I've gathered up a few notable Pokémon questions from over the years, and I'm going to do my best to answer them here. And I'm gonna start off with something that has plagued Pokémon anime fans for nearly two decades:

  WHY WAS BROCK REPLACED BY TRACEY SKETCHIT IN THE ORANGE ISLANDS?

For most of the Indigo League portion of the Pokémon anime, Brock was a steadfast companion to Ash and Misty. Sure, he got crushes on, like, everything, but it always seemed like he'd be around. And then the crew saw Professor Ivy on Valencia Island, and all of a sudden Brock was like "The Pokémon in this lab need me more than you do, Ash! I gotta leave indefinitely" But do they, Brock? You meet attractive anime ladies who hang out with Pokémon every other day. But for some reason, this one makes you abandon your literal only friends in the world?

He's quickly replaced by Tracey Sketchit, who likes to draw Pokémon if you couldn't infer that from his last name. Tracey isn't bad, but he definitely feels like an RPG character that someone got bored making halfway through. He seems like the kind of dude that would order a sandwich and then take off all the best parts. "Yeah, could you hold the mustard, and the pickles, and the meat and actually just give me two ice cubes on a paper plate?" Tracey only lasted around thirty episodes, too, before they switched him with Brock again, much to the delight of everyone with a pulse.

So why would you suddenly replace Brock with a man whose most notable personality trait is "Wears a t-shirt"? Well, according to former Pokémon anime director and storyboard artist, it's because they were scared that Americans would think Brock was a racist stereotype due to his eyes. But then they realized that everyone liked Brock anyway and drafted him back in. So there you go. 

WHY DID THEY REMAKE POKEMON BLUE AS POKEMON LEAF GREEN?

I love the Pokémon Red/Blue remakes for the Game Boy Advance, Pokémon Fire Red and Leaf Green. The buttons on my GBA SP were practically destroyed due to the hundreds of hours that I put into them. That said, when they originally came out, I wondered why they went with Leaf Green? Didn't this one line up as a remake of Pokémon Blue? I don't mean to sound pushy BUT I WANT POKEMON TO BE THE WAY THAT I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE AND IF YOU MESS THAT UP, I'LL GET DUMB AND MAD.

Well, in Japan, the original pair of Pokémon games was Pokémon Red and Green. But they also decided to go with Leaf Green because, according to video game producer Junichi Masuda, the leaf is a symbol of peace and it's an easy symbol to understand internationally. Also, the developers wanted to put a colorful member of the Bulbasaur family on the cover, and I totally get that. Bulbasaur is great, and anyone who disagrees is not only wrong but also probably a cannibal.

COULD YOU EVER GET MEW IN THE ORIGINAL GAMES?

Long before the number of Pokémon nearly reached 1,000, the world was stunned by the reveal of #151: Mew. Of course, Mew was hinted at in the ruined mansion in Cinnabar Island, but among my friends, it was always treated like it was folklore, like Bigfoot or a good Fantastic Four movie. And, like some folklore, there were numerous tales of sightings. Of course, you could get it with a Game Shark (For the young kids reading this, the Game Shark was an item that you could load onto your console's memory so that when you put the actual game in, you had all the cheats available to you) if you were the one dude on the block in 1998 that owned a Game Shark, but most of my friends had their own bizarre methods.

  You could also find it with a glitch, but the most famous "strategy" was locating it under the truck that's sitting near the dock in Vermillion City, around where the S.S. Anne is. This was probably the first conspiracy theory that I was ever exposed to, and man, did it not work. You can try to use Strength on that truck all day and you will never once find a Mew. So yeah, tell this to any friends who are still, twenty years later, trying to catch #151 under that automobile. Save them from their nightmare. Be their hero.

   WHO IS ASH KETCHUM'S DAD?

  We're all very familiar with Ash's Mom, a wonderful woman that only wants to hang out with Mr. Mime and remind you to pack clean underwear. But who is Ash's Dad? Is he someone that we've already met, or is Ash the product of, like, Pokémon immaculate conception where Ash is the chosen one to save the world by...walking around with his monster pals for years? Nah. It's probaby Professor Oak, or the guy in Pallet Town in the original games that's like "Technology is amazing!" That dude sounds like an interesting first date.

  But if you absolutely must know who Ash's Dad is, just know that...no one knows. One of the original writers of the Pokémon anime, Takeshi Shudo, has even said that while Ash definitely has a father, he hasn't shown up yet and "has yet to have had a true meaning." 

  So Ash's Dad isn't lurking in the background, keeping tabs on his son from afar. And that totally dashes all of my fan theories about it being Lt. Surge. It makes sense, right? He has a Raichu, Ash has a Pikachu. He...no, that Raichu thing was about it. Back to the drawing board.

   WHAT'S THE INSIDE OF A POKEBALL LIKE?

  When a Pokémon trainer has sufficiently battered a wild Pokémon using their own laser pet, they can throw a Pokeball at it and try to capture it. But aside from the ethical dilemna of throwing a round piece of metal at a defenseless animal, the biggest question is this: What's it like inside the Pokeball? What do they do in there? We know they become some type of data or energy, because you can trade Pokémon over the internet and when you let the Pokémon back out, it isn't just a crushed lump.

  Well, according to Junichi Masuda, it's a "very comfortable environment" and "Maybe the equivalent of a high end suite room in a fancy hotel." Honestly, that's the most pleasant answer that we could've gotten. I remember someone in middle school told me that once Pokémon go into their Pokeballs, it's like they get put in a temporary coma, and that's horrifying. You go unconscious until you're tossed out into the world to fight, and this process repeats until you expire? I don't like that very much. In fact, and I know I'm taking a controversial stance here, I think that sounds quite bad.

  So, there you have it. I hope I've helped in some way, and if you have any other questions, please let me know. I'll be watching Pokémon on Netflix and studying up if you need me.

  Do you have any pressing Pokémon questions and concerns? Did this list answer any of your questions? Let us know in the comments!

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

  Daniel Dockery is a writer for Crunchyroll. Be his Pika Pal on Twitter. 

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[spitestudies]

hello everyone!! as a high school junior taking 4 aps, 3 other classes, preparing for the act, trying to do college research, stage managing a musical, and trying not to lose my mind, here are some fun n handy tips for not Dying when ur schedule is hell!  

if you found this post helpful maybe give it a like/reblog and check out my other posts here!

01 | PLANNING AND PREPARING

so much of getting and staying organized has to do with organizing your time in advance.  there are a million ways to do this--google calendar, a bullet journal, a planner, some post-it notes.  my system involves three parts: a google calendar, a planner, and an online to-do list app.  

google calendar: this is mostly for events.  i can see when i have rehearsals, classes, doctor’s appointments, etc.  this helps me see how much available time i have and budgeting it properly.  

planner: i take this with me to school, and i use it to right down when i have assignments and tests.  i use the ban.do planner, but these are a bit pricey, and really anything will do.  just somewhere to put down tasks so you can keep track of them

getplan.co: this app is, honest to god, the only reason i am still alive and breathing.  it plugs into your google calendar and then allows you to create and schedule tasks around events.  @studycxlture has an amazing post about plan here that i def recommend checking out!

general tips about planning: 

plan out the events of your month at least two days before it starts

set aside a night (i like sunday evenings) to set up a system for the upcoming week and go over what you have planned so you don’t forget anything

you are NOT gonna remember that assignment that teacher told you about.  write it down.  

you do not need a fancy system.  it’s okay to try lots of different things until you find what works 

never spend more time planning out tasks than completing them.  unless you have that much free time, don’t dedicate two hours to making a lovely weekly bullet journal spread.  

color codes!!! are a life saver.  i have one with a color for each class (red for english, orange for spanish, yellow for history, green for science, blue for math, etc) as well as some for my extracurriculars (pink for the musical, teal for model un, etc).  

always have ur planner open when ur working, so that you can make sure u r actually completing all the tasks u said u were gonna complete

02 | STAYING ORGANIZED 

oh my god oh my god oh my god staying on top of your work is SO important when you’re busy.  being able to find your worksheets and keep track of your homework and your million responsibilities is essential to being successful.  to stay organized, i have an expandable file folder with tabs for each class.  because i take most of my notes in notebooks instead of binders, this is a good way to keep all of my handouts, worksheets, and syllabi centralized.  

also, make sure you have a way to keep your online materials organized.  create a folder for each school year, and within that folder, create more folders for each class.  from there, it’s up to you about how you’ll organize files. you can create even MORE folders (yeet) for things like homework, notes, study guides, etc, or folders for each unit you study.  the possibilities are endless!!!! isn’t technology exciting

here r some pieces of advice for staying organized: 

have a series of folders/binder/expandable file folder to hold your worksheets.  or one for each class, though i prefer to keep all my papers in one a) to save money and b) to save space.

label your notebooks/binders so that you know which ones to bring home with you

never just shove something into your backpack.  never.  i’m gonna manifest into ur classroom and FIGHT you if u do that.  it’s not good, it’ll end up getting lost or crushed under the weight of all ur textbooks, and you’ll end up panicking when u can’t find it 

have ur planner on u at all times

keep a good filing system of ur stuff at home.  u don’t need to carry around every single bio assignment you’ve gotten back, but by the time ur final rolls around ur gonna want 2 b able to look at all the materials you’ve gotten during the semester

that being said, throw stuff away when the year is over!  i, for one, know i’m never gonna think about calculus after this class is done, so i will be recycling all of my papers (save the earth) and moving tf on 

keep a recycling bin in your room!  even if it’s just a paper bag, it’ll make throwing paper in the trash way less tempting (save the earth)

u don’t need a ton of pens.  i’m being a giant hypocrite saying this but you really don’t need all that stuff.  if you want it and you can manage it, great, but if it’s just another thing to keep track of, leave ur staedtlers and ur mujis and ur fineliners and ur calligraphy pens at home, and just take the essentials with u to school

03 | MAKING THE MOST OF UR TIME

in order to succeed, it’s v important to make every second count.  this doesn’t mean studying 48 hours straight (pls don’t), but try not to waste time. whether this means you spend fifteen minutes napping, doing some reading for english, or having a quick snack, make sure u are being productive and healthy!  i, for one, sometimes have 1-2 hour breaks between school and rehearsal, and i like to use these to walk to the grocery store by my school and get some food and then study in the deli.  

some ideas for being productive! 

carry a clipboard around everywhere.  this way, u don’t need to spend as much time transitioning in and out of tasks, u can just put ur work onto the clipboard, and put it in ur backpack at the end of a break, and then the next chance u have to work on it, just take it back out.  easy peasy

work during commutes! nOT if ur the one driving the car though that’s VERY dangerous and distracted driving = bad.  but if ur on the bus, or ur mom is driving u to school, that might be a good time to go over some notes you took last night, or some reading you need to catch up on.  nothing too insane, please don’t do ur chem labs on the public bus but.  u know.  

read over the notes you took that day on the ride home.  this will help reinforce the information in ur brain, and it’s not super difficult. i go over my apush notes during the 40 minute drive home and sometimes talk about them w my mom, which gives me a much better grasp of the material

don’t waste time on social media.  either delete instagram altogether, or log off/mute notifications before u start work.  same with tumblr.  don’t start scrolling obsessively if u have three tests to study for. 

power naps!!!! napping for about 10-20 minutes, maybe on the way home or to practice/rehearsal/whatever u gotta do, can help u feel refreshed!  anything longer will make u more tired tho, so be sure to get up when u say ur gonna get up.  

study smarter: when ur going over material, u don’t need to handwrite 60 beautiful flashcards.  use quizlet instead.  don’t revise if it’s not gonna help u.  prioritize which assignments r gonna be most impactful over the little ones u can easily make up

take good breaks!! breaks r VERY important and should be utilized properly.  here r some good suggestions for things to do: 

throw in a load of laundry

empty the dishwasher

stretch/do some jumping jacks

drink some water!

go for a walk

talk to a family member 

get a snack!

read some fun novels n such

scream?

!! in case of emergency !! the following tips should only be employed when ur short on time.  don’t use these just bc u can, this is just when it’s about getting close enough to grasping material, not actually grasping it

do every other math problem assigned, and either star the ones u didn’t do, or get the answers from the back of the book.  this way, u get some practice but u also save time

sparknotes ur reading beforehand.  this way, u can recognize what’s going on.  it’s not v good for developing ur reading comprehension, but assignments will go by quicker

NEVER google translate ur language homework, but u can use word reference for helping u find the right word and proper conjugations

flagpole it: didn’t study enough for a test?  are u guessing on like 10 of the questions?  if it’s multiple choice, but the same answer for all the ones u have no clue about, unless that answer choice seems highly unlikely.  then pick a different one.  this way, ur statistically more likely to get some of the ones you guessed correct. 

when u have an online assignment due at midnight and it’s 11:53 and u haven’t started, find another assignment you’ve already completed that has a similar document name.  for example, “scarlet letter chapters 9-11″ instead of ur actual assignment “scarlet letter chapters 12-14″.  submit the other one, and then when u finish the other assignment (either that night or the next morning) email ur teacher and apologize, say u accidentally submitted the wrong document

if ur parents will let u (if ur in high school) or u can let urself (if ur in uni), it’s okay to skip a day to catch up.  just make sure u actually work, get the notes u missed, and talk to ur teachers/professors abt the material u missed.

04 | STAYING HEALTHY 

ur health comes before any assignment, test, or extracurricular.  i know lots of ppl r probably telling u that and it doesn’t seem like they mean it, but i mean it.  no exam is worth sacrificing ur mental, physical, or emotional health for.  yeet!  so here r some things to keep in mind

eat!  ur fuckin!  breakfast!  whether it’s a smoothie or oatmeal or a cup of orange juice or an apple or an elaborate french toast dish, u need some food in ur stomach so that u have the energy to start ur day

remember to take ur meds if u need to!

drink water!  drink! water!  have a glass when u wake up, and then at least one with every meal, and one before u go to bed.  hydration is v important.  if u can, invest in a water bottle and take it with u to class.  

pack a lunch!  and if ur staying later after school, pack snacks!  tech week for me is always hell because i get to school at 7:30 am and don’t usually leave until 11 that night.  it’s v important to stay nourished and hydrated so that u don’t get dizzy or faint.  

remember!  that u are beautiful, and ur body is beautiful, and it deserves 2 b loved! especially by u.  

get 6 hours of sleep.  aim for 8, but six at the very least.  if ur done with ur work, go to bed early!  don’t just stay up for no reason.  

shower everyday, or every other day at least.  give yourself those 15 minutes as a break from work or school or anything else that’s keeping you busy

write down ur thoughts in a journal?  

talk to a friend if ur feeling sad, or just feeling things very intensely.  share ur joy with other people!  vent ur sadness and anger so u aren’t carrying it around everywhere. 

make some time to have fun.  see a movie w ur friends or ur bf/gf/datefriend or ur family over the weekend.  go to a museum.  hang out at the mall.  sleepover at someone’s house.  taking breaks is healthy.  

make an effort to have dinner with ur family if u can (also if u like ur family.  i know some ppl have bad relationships w them so skip this step if that’s u).  it can be nice to reconnect w everyone, even when ur stressed or they’re annoying u, it can be nice.  

remember that it’s okay to be imperfect!  u don’t need to be good at a lot of things.  i got a b for the first time last semester, i just got a c on an apush test, i failed my driver’s test again yesterday.  but i also aced my math quiz, i celebrated six months of knowing my best friend, i walked my dog, i helped put a production together.  it’s okay to have rough days and bad days and bleh days, as long as you keep pushing through them and working for the days to get better.  

i love u!!! stay hydrated and nourished and get enough sleep.  put on some lotion if u have it available.  brush ur hair.  if u ever wanna ask a question, my ask box is always open!  <3

[damiencordle]

I Found This Interesting. Joshua Damien Cordle

Possibilities of new one-atom-thick materials

New 2D materials have the potential to transform technologies, with applications from solar cells to smartphones and wearable electronics, explains UMBC's Can Ataca, assistant professor of physics. These materials consist of a single layer of atoms bound together in a crystal structure. In fact, they're so thin that a stack of 10 million of them would only be 1 millimeter thick. And sometimes, Ataca says, less is more. Some 2D materials are more effective and efficient than similar materials that are much thicker.

Despite their advantages, however, 2D materials are currently difficult and expensive to make. That means the scientists trying to create them need to make careful choices about how they invest their time, energy, and funds in development.

New research by Daniel Wines, Ph.D. candidate in physics, and Ataca gives those scientists the information they need to pursue high-impact research in this field. Their theoretical work provides reliable information about which new materials might have desirable properties for a range of applications and could exist in a stable form in nature. In a recent paper published in ACS Applied Materials and Interfaces, they used cutting-edge computer modeling techniques to predict the properties of 2D materials that haven't yet been made in real life.

"We usually are trying to stay five or so years ahead of experimentalists," says Wines. That way, they can avoid going down expensive dead ends. "That's time, effort, and money that they can focus on other things."

The perfect mix

The new paper focuses on the stability and properties of 2D materials called group III nitrides. These are mixtures of nitrogen and an element from group III on the periodic table, which includes aluminum, gallium, indium, and boron.

Scientists have already made some of these 2D materials in small quantities. Instead of looking at mixtures of one of the group III elements with nitrogen, however, Wines and Ataca modeled alloys -- mixtures including nitrogen and two different group III elements. For example, they predicted the properties of materials made of mostly aluminum, but with some gallium added, or mostly gallium, but with some indium added.

These "in-between" materials might have intermediate properties that could be useful in certain applications. "By doing this alloying, we can say, I have orange light, but I have materials that can absorb red light and yellow light," Ataca says. "So how can I mix that so that it can absorb the orange light?" Tuning the light absorption capabilities of these materials could improve the efficiency of solar energy systems, for example.

Alloys of the future

Ataca and Wines also looked at the electric and thermoelectric properties of materials. A material has thermoelectric capability if it can generate electricity when one side is cold and the other is hot. The basic group III nitrides have thermoelectric properties, "but at certain concentrations, the thermoelectric properties of alloys are better than the basic group III nitrides," Ataca says.

Wines adds, "That's the main motivation of doing the alloying -- the tunability of the properties."

They also showed that not all of the alloys would be stable in real life. For example, mixtures of aluminum and boron at any concentrations were not stable. However, five different ratios of gallium-aluminum mixtures were stable.

Once production of the basic group III nitrides becomes more reliable and is scaled up, Wines and Ataca expect scientists to work on engineering the materials for specific applications using their results as a guide.

Back to basics...with supercomputers

Wines and Ataca modeled the materials' properties using supercomputers. Rather than using experimental data as input for their models, "We are using the basics of quantum mechanics to create these properties. So the good part is we don't have any experimental biases," Ataca says. "We're working on stuff that doesn't have any experimental evidence before. So this is a trustable approach."

To get the most accurate results requires huge amounts of computing power and takes a long time. Running their models at the highest accuracy level can take several days.

"It's kind of like telling a story," Wines says. "We go through the most basic level to screen the materials," which only takes about an hour. "And then we go to the highest levels of accuracy, using the most powerful computers, to find the most accurate parameters possible."

"I think the beautiful part of these studies is that we started at the basics and we literally went up to the most accurate level in our field," Ataca adds. "But we can always ask for more."

A new frontier

They have continued to move forward into uncharted scientific territory. In a different paper, published within a week of the first in ACS Applied Materials and Interfaces, Theodosia Gougousi, professor of physics; Jaron Kropp, Ph.D. '20, physics; and Ataca demonstrated a way to integrate 2D materials into real devices.

2D materials often need to attach to an electronic circuit within a device. An in-between layer is required to make that connection -- and the team found one that works. "We have a molecule that can do this, that can make a connection to the material, in order to use it for external circuit applications," Ataca says.

This result is a big deal for the implementation of 2D materials. "This work combines fundamental experimental research on the processes that occur on the surface of 2D atomic crystals with detailed computational evaluation of the system," Gougousi says. "It provides guidance to the device community so they can successfully integrate novel materials into traditional device architectures."

Collaboration across disciplines

The theoretical analyses for this work happened in Ataca's lab, and the experiments happened in Gougousi's lab. Kropp worked in both groups.

"The project exemplifies the synergy that is required for science and technology development and advancement," Gougousi says. "It is also a great example of the opportunities that our graduate students have to work on problems of great technological interest, and to develop a broad knowledge basis and a unique set of technical skills."

Kropp, who is first author on the second paper, is thrilled to have had this research experience.

"2D semiconductors are exciting because they have the potential for applications in non-traditional electronic devices, like wearable or flexible electronics, since they are so thin," he says. "I was fortunate to have two excellent advisors, because this allowed me to combine the experimental and theoretical work seamlessly. I hope that the results of this work can help other researchers to develop new devices based on 2D materials."

Story Source:

Materials provided by University of Maryland Baltimore County. Original written by Sarah Hansen. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.

Journal References:

Daniel Wines, Fatih Ersan, Can Ataca. Engineering the Electronic, Thermoelectric, and Excitonic Properties of Two-Dimensional Group-III Nitrides through Alloying for Optoelectronic Devices (B1–xAlxN, Al1–xGaxN, and Ga1–xInxN). ACS Applied Materials & Interfaces, 2020; 12 (41): 46416 DOI: 10.1021/acsami.0c11124

Jaron A. Kropp, Ankit Sharma, Wenjuan Zhu, Can Ataca, Theodosia Gougousi. Surface Defect Engineering of MoS2 for Atomic Layer Deposition of TiO2 Films. ACS Applied Materials & Interfaces, 2020; 12 (42): 48150 DOI: 10.1021/acsami.0c13095

[mosylufanfic]

27. “Son of a bitch. It’s you.” Killervibe!

Today’s NaNo fic is a long one, and a tad more serious than I planned, but I still hope you like it!

Mosylu explain yourself pls

Secret Admirer

They all stood around the table in the cortex, studying the bright red candy box.

Barry picked up the card. “To Cisco,” he read. “From a secret admirer.” He looked up. “That’s not ominous at all.”

“It was delivered to the police station, not here or your house,” Iris said. “So they know your name and that you sometimes help the cops.”

“Do you think there’s a tracker on it?” Barry wondered. “ Like they’re trying to find out your home address? Or what if they suspect that you’re Vibe?”

“The cops looked over it thoroughly,” Iris said. “X-ray and everything.”

“And, hey, I vibed it too, because I’m not actually a moron,” Cisco said. “All I got off the box was the fight that the girl who packed it had with her girlfriend and the hot threesome the postal carrier had with his neighbors last night.” At their looks, he spread his hands. “I do not control this stuff, you guys.”

“According to the shop, it was an online order,” Caitlin reported. “Paid by a prepaid gift card.”

Iris looked up, eyes bright. “Is there an email address attached to the order?”

“Yes, but it was a dcmail address. Anyone can get one of those. And it was Ciscos_Secret_Admirer, so I think it’s pretty clear it was created just for this.”

“Okay, that’s really ominous,” Barry said.

“Orrrrrrr … ” Cisco said, “it’s Valentine’s Day in a week. Maybe I actually have a secret admirer who sent me candy because they think I’m sweet.” He ripped the plastic off the box, pulled it open, and selected a bonbon.

“Cisco!” Iris said, half-laughing. “You’re eating it?”

“Why not?” he said, with his mouth full of chocolate. “It’s my favorite kind. Want some?”

“Oh my god, no! Caitlin, come on, help me out. I can’t believe you’re not at least giving him the stink eye.”

“Actually,” Caitlin said, “I don’t see the harm. It’s fully packaged, from a reputable shop that shipped it directly. The police station examined it once when it arrived there, and Cisco vibed on it himself. All indications are it’s just a gift from a secret admirer, like it says. Why shouldn’t he eat his own candy?”

“Thank you,” Cisco said, and held up his hand for a high five, which was delivered. “Want some?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s yours.”

Over the next few days, regular as clockwork, more gifts arrived from his secret admirer. A giant teddy bear. A bottle of wine. A bouquet of roses. All of them ordered online, delivered to the police station, and impossible to vibe on.

Cisco got a lot of ribbing from the guys on the force, but he would grab his new present and say, “You’re all haters because you slobs ain’t getting shit.” He flicked his fingers over the three dozen yellow, orange, and red roses, grinning broadly. “And it takes a real man to like flowers.”

One day, the present was just a folded-up sheet of paper, which was kind of a let-down after everything else. Cisco opened it and let out a noise somewhere between a yelp and a moan.

“What? What is it?”

He looked up, starry-eyed. “They gave me a hundred dollar Steam gift card. Shit. This person totally gets me.”

Two days before Valentine’s Day, Cisco bounced around his lab, humming. His presents usually turned up around noontime, so he’d fallen into the habit of running out for lunch to one of the places near the police station.

He’d had a rough year since calling it quits with Cynthia. She’d been the first person he’d ever thought could be The One, and it had been a horrible shock to realize that someone being The One didn’t mean the universe was going to just hand them an Everything-Works-Out card. Now she was the one that got away, and Cisco had spent the year feeling like shit because he couldn’t make it work. A string of terrible dates and a soulless one-night stand had also left him feeling like he’d lost his only chance at love, like the world was cold and grey and devoid of the possibility of happiness.

This secret admirer business had buoyed his spirits, though. Okay, he had a tragic love story in his past now, but it didn’t mean romance couldn’t be right around the corner with someone else. Maybe, right?

Maybe sounded awfully good to him at the moment.

He was so busy thinking about what might be next - something sexy maybe? - that he knocked over his oil can. Of course, the loose cap came off and the contents went everywhere.

He yelped, swore, and got to work cleaning the oil up, which took forever. Then when he went back to his calculations, he found that “everywhere” had included his entire precious stash of dry-erase markers. He could “liberate” another box from the cop shop later (Joe always sighed, “Singh is gonna arrest you one day and I won’t even stop him”) but he needed one now.

He went up to Caitlin’s lab. She didn’t use them like he did, but she had her own little stash, in fun colors, too.

She was hunched over a microscope, lips pursed, tap-tap-tapping a pen.

“Dry erase markers?” he said.

“Top left drawer,” she said without looking up.

He tugged open one of the drawers at her desk and scanned the contents. No markers. He realized it was the top right drawer and was about to close it when something caught his eye.

A prepaid gift card.

He frowned at it.

Why would Caitlin have a prepaid gift card for - holy shit. Five hundred dollars?

Maybe it was in case she forgot her wallet. Maybe this was some weird budgeting hack she’d read about. Maybe she …

Ordered stuff online.

He reached in and picked it up. On the backside was a post-it, with notations in Caitlin’s neat handwriting. He read through the list.

Candy store.

Flower shop.

Novelty stuffed-animal website.

Fancy wine store.

The Steam website.

The incredible bakery by her house.

His favorite fancy-pants restaurant.

“Cisco,” Caitlin called out. “Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sure did.”

When he turned, she had lifted her head from the microscope. The guilty look on her face erased his last doubt that the card he held had any alternate explanation.

“I - ” she said in a very small voice. “I said the top left.”

“Son of a bitch,” he said. “It’s you.”

He sat looking at the gift card, conscious of a weird, deflated feeling in his chest. A knot of something he couldn’t quite identify.

“I - ” she said, and stopped.

He looked up at her - one of his best friends. Someone who’d been right there for him at all his worst points, like he’d been for her.

Someone who’d spent the whole past week - no, knowing her, the whole past month, at least - putting time and energy and thought and a not-inconsiderable amount of money into showering him with gifts and affection, and seeing him bounce and smile around Star Labs without claiming any credit.

Her head had drooped down, and her shoulders were folded in tight.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She said, “Look, I -”

He held the card up. “This? Was super sweet, Caitlin. Thank you.” He set it down by her computer and went to give her a quick hug. “You knew how rough this V-Day was going to be and you wanted to give me some happy buzz. You’re the best, you know that?”

She was still sitting on her chair, chin tipped up, eyes big.

He kissed her cheek. “Seriously. This has been so much fun, these presents. And they were amazing. Thank you.”

“You - you’re welcome,” she mumbled.

“Look, I’m about to go grab lunch and stop by the station for - ” He laughed. “Well, you know what, don’t you? You wrote down Cameron’s Bakery - I’m guessing cupcakes? Maybe cookies?”

She nodded like a bobble-head doll. “Cupcakes. Red velvet cupcakes.”

“All right. So I’ll bring those back, and we can share, and hey, you know what? I’m grabbing your lunch, too.”

“N-no. That’s okay, I -”

“You’ve been giving me a lot this week, least I can do is pick you up your favorite sandwich, right?”

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed. “See you in a little bit.”

He went downstairs for his wallet and breached out to a handy alley near the station. He wavered between going there first or grabbing the food - but her favorite sandwich place was five blocks in the other direction. He headed for the station.

“Finally, you’re here!” Iris said. She’d been at the station all morning, reading through case files from about the 1940s that weren’t yet digitized. “I’ve had to practically throw my body on today’s present.” With a dirty look to the desk sergeant, she handed Cisco a dark green box with swirly silver script.

“Come on,” the sergeant mumbled. “We all know what a Cameron’s Bakery box looks like.”

“Well, you can go buy your own,” Cisco said, forcing cheer. “This one’s mine. Thanks for protecting it, Iris.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Aren’t you going to open it and see what’s inside?”

“I’m afraid of a stampede,” he joked.

Iris didn’t laugh. “You okay? I thought you loved that place.”

He traced his finger over the lettering. “I do. But I need food-food right now, too.” He waved at her with the box and went on his way, wondering if Iris or Barry had been in on it. But no, after their initial skepticism, they’d been into it, cooing over the presents and speculating on identities.

Why hadn’t he told her? “Oh, guess what, craziest thing - it’s Caitlin!”

Maybe because he still had that weird knot of he-didn’t-know-what in his chest.

He couldn’t deny that it had been exciting to have a mystery admirer. Who didn’t love that? Sure, there was the risk they would be someone he wasn’t attracted to. But he’d at least known that someone was attracted to him, coming off a year where he didn’t feel lovable or even sometimes likeable.

But hey. Come on. She was one of his very best friends. She liked him enough to think all this up, just to see him smile. Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he should have figured on it being someone who knew him really well, and that would have narrowed the field down hard.

He looked at the box of cupcakes in his hand.

She’d brought him a cupcake for his birthday once, during the terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad nine months they’d spent between the explosion and Barry waking up. This exact cupcake, in fact, red velvet from Cameron’s Bakery.

Would he have figured it out then? Or would it have passed right over his head like all the other hints?

Hadn’t he been saying this whole time how perfect these gifts were? How well his secret admirer got him? She knew his favorite kind of chocolates, his favorite wine, how much he dropped on Steam every year.

She’d even heard him once, years ago, talk about how much he’d like to be wooed someday. That guys did all the wooing in straight relationships, and while he loved doing it, how cool it would be for a girl to do the whole showering-him-with-stuffed-animals-and-flowers thing sometime.

He paused across the road from the sandwich place, checked the oncoming traffic, and jaywalked without compunction.

The thing that stung so strangely - the thing that made him list all the reasons it was so awesome, like he was trying to convince himself to appreciate it - was that here and there over the years, he’d wondered about Caitlin. You know. Like that.

And if she’d been his secret admirer in a romantic way - if all those gifts and surprises were wooing and not just a friend knowing exactly what would make him happy - that would have been …

Well. Honestly, it would have been pretty cool.

He’d had a little crush on her when they first met, but she’d been with Ronnie. The crush had softened into friendship, but the friendship still had a little crushy tinge from time to time. But “from time to time” always seemed to be bad timing.

They’d been friends nearly seven years, through thick and thin. Oh, so much thin. All that time - surely any diem they might have carpe’d was long gone.

Right?

He frowned at the familiar signboard with the specials of the day, and went to stand in line. When he ordered - “chicken salad, with just a little bit of honey mustard” - the worker wrote “Caitlin” on the wrapper without even checking. On autopilot, he grabbed her a bottle of iced tea and himself a bottle of soda.

With the bag swinging from his wrist and the bakery box in his other hand, he found an alley and breached back into his lab, where he dropped everything on his table in a jumble.

The roses sat in a vase on one of his work tables. For some reason, he just stared at them for several minutes.

She’d gotten everything else dead on. Perfect, down to the squashiness of the giant teddy bear, which now was the best gaming chair he’d ever had. But the flowers -

He did like flowers. But his picks were sunflowers, or blue daisies, not roses especially. Why had she gotten him roses?

Didn’t rose colors have special meanings? It would be just like Caitlin to encode her posies. He pulled out his phone and looked it up.

Yellow - friendship, joy, warmth. Okay, that made sense.

Orange - passion, energy. Oh. Uh. Hey. Well, maybe that referred to him, to all his passion and energy for, um, saving the city on a daily basis.

But red? Everyone knew what red roses meant.

He reached out and pulled one of the red roses from the vase. The water dripped cool into his palm and ran down his wrist. He rolled it between thumb and forefinger a moment, and then grabbed the bag of their lunches and took both flower and food with him upstairs.

She sat at her computer, the gift card in hand, staring at the screen. Across the top was the logo of his favorite restaurant, and underneath that, the reservation tab.

“You waited this long to make a reservation?” he asked. “For Valentine’s day?”

She jumped and minimized the screen with a laugh that sounded fake. “No, of course not. I made it a month ago. I was just checking on it. Thinking about canceling. That was supposed to be the big reveal, after all, but now it’s just going to be a meal.”

“Caitlin,” he said, suddenly afraid.

“But!” she said brightly. “You know what. It is your favorite restaurant, and you should get to eat there. So the reservation’s in your name, and they have my credit card on file, so you go, okay? By yourself, or - or take whoever you’d like. Have a lovely time. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She was so bright and chipper. She looked like she was about to shatter.

He set the food down next to her computer and pulled an extra chair over. “What if I want to take you?”

She looked away. “Don’t you think that would be a little strange? Around all the happy couples?”

“That was the original plan,” he pointed out. “Two BFF’s, eating a nice meal together on Valentine’s Day. Right?”

Still not looking at him, she fussed with her fingernails, picking at her pink nail polish.

He laid the rose over her keyboard and watched her go still.

“Or was it?” he said. “You gave me red roses. Sure, it took me a little while to catch on to that, but everybody knows what red roses mean.”

“Cisco - ”

“What was your plan?” he asked. “You were going to invite me - I’m guessing a card with time and place, delivered to the station tomorrow?”

She nodded.

“And then you were going to be there at the table and ta-daaa! And then what? How did you picture this going?”

She looked at the rose for a long moment. Then she reached out and picked it up, touching the velvety petals to her cheek.

“I - I was going to follow your lead,” she almost whispered into the bloom.

He let out a huff of breath. “My lead. Like, where I immediately jumped to the conclusion that those were all platonic, friendly secret admirer gifts you were showering down on me? A conclusion that was clearly mistaken.”

“I knew it was a risk. I knew that even though it seemed like your heart was mending and you were ready to get out there again, I might be wrong. And even if I wasn’t wrong about that, there was every chance you’d be disappointed that it was just me. But - ” She put the rose down. “I wanted to try. Because so many times over the years, I’ve thought ‘what if,’ and I wondered if you thought that too.”

He started to lean in, and she pulled back so hard her chair rolled a couple of inches. “Please,” she said. “I already know you think of me as strictly a friend. Don’t pity me on top of it. Just let me handle it on my own, okay?”

“You wanna know why I was so weird earlier?” he said. “Because I was trying - oh my god, I was trying so hard! - to be happy that I had a friend who cared about me that much, to put that much work into giving me an amazing Valentine’s Day week. But there’s this little part of me that’s also thought from time to time, 'what if’ and that part of me wanted you to be wooing me, Caitlin. Courting me. Is that what you were doing?”

Very slowly, she nodded. Her eyes were big again, like they had been earlier when he’d thanked her for being such a good friend.

He brushed his fingers down her jaw and leaned in again. This time, her lips met his.

It was light, tentative, questioning. But it was also the sweetest kiss he’d had in a long time.

“Okay,” he said softly after a long minute, leaning back. “So. I’ll meet you at my favorite restaurant at eight pm on Valentine’s Day. You’re going to wine and dine me, and then we’ll see this where this goes. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” she said, and kissed him again. In her kiss, he could taste a world of possibilities, opening up.

FINIS

[shazyloren]

Lustful Affair: Chapter 6 - Belle Babberton

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13083426/chapters/30096576

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

The week sped by for Rey.

Professor Organa's lecture were actually really interesting, once she got past remembering seeing him with no clothes on.

Then the only thing she struggled with was deleting his number.

She knew it was ill advised that she still had it.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it, so she hadn't yet.

Friday came around and as a seminar was the last thing they had that week before Finn's house party later that night, Rey was itching to get it over with.

Rose and Rey had spent majority of their time in the library researching different subject areas.

They'd already pulled one all nighter there, it was easier than the noisy dorm study lounge.

Thank you coffee.

One late study session had brought about an irate response in Rey, when she heard other girls from the science labs talk about the good looks of Professor Organa.

She'd seen red and it took three chocolate bars for her to calm down.

Both she and Rose had paired up in their final seminar of the week with a girl called Belle Babberton. Or BB as she prefered to be called.

She was a five foot on the dot white girl with the most orange hair anyone had ever seen.

They were to give a presentation on engineering feats of the past ten years and explain the science behind it all.

They'd invited her to the Library on Sunday which was where they were going to start it.

She'd happily agreed to join.

So now, as the seminar finished, they walked out and began to pile out of the building.

"So are you coming to the party tonight?" BB asked.

"You mean Finn's?" Rey laughed.

"Of course"

"Well considering Finn is my boyfriend it'd be a bit rude If I didn't show up" Rose smirked.

"No way!" BB exclaimed. "You're dating the FINN STORM?"

"The very one" Rose bragged.

"Him and his male friend Poe are so fine" BB sighed as if day dreaming.

"Don't go near Poe, he's all types of crazy" Rey cackled. "He ate a whole watermelon in like 4 minutes yesterday in the cafeteria"

"That sounds impressive" BB was a fun character. She had bundles of energy, which was the only downside.

Today of all days, Rey was too grumpy for it.

She'd seen the so called 'English Professor', whose name she did not know, flirting with Professor Organa and she'd had a flare of jealousy within her.

Rey, it's over.

She kept telling herself she was over him.

But she'd see him again and be reminded of everything they'd shared together.

But she couldn't think of that now, she had a party to get ready for.

So they invited BB to come back to their dorm and to get ready with them there, and she accepted.

When they reached the dorm, the boys in the room across the hall were having an argument over a girl for the third time that week.

"Ignore them, they'll both probably be spit-roasting her tomorrow" Rose explained.

"Rose that's disgusting" Rey gagged.

"Why?" Rose asked. "It's true"

They entered the dorm room and immediately began looking for clothes to wear. Rey chose high waisted ripped jeans with stillettos and a burgandy crop top. She felt good, she felt confident. Which was worrying because this happened last sunday and look what happened.

Unadvised sex with her Professor.

It was a few hours before they were ready, drinks had already flowed.

Wine in particular, lots of it.

Finn had said he'd pick them up and so when Rey looked out of the window, she could indeed see him.

They clambered down the stairs and made to the exit.

"Finnie" Rose gushed. Rey made a pretend sick face.

"Girls, what's good-" Finn stopped in his tracks. "I don't believe we've met?"

"Finn, this is BB" Rose introduced her.

"Great, introductions made can we get in the car I'm freezing my knickers off" Rey shivered. They all rolled their eyes.

They climbed in and began the short drive to Finn's fraternity house.

It was quiet on route. Even Rose didn't say much to Finn.

But when they arrived on Finn's street the laughing began.

"I believe you weren't lying, Rose" Rey nodded impressed. "Invite 20, 200 show up"

"Jesus Finn... Is Poe jumping off of the Garage?" They looked out the window as Finn pulled into the drive.

Indeed, there was Poe laying on the grass after having jumped off of the Garage, laughing his head off.

Rey and the others jumped out of the car.

"Hello, idiots" Rey introduced herself. Already tipsy as the wine they'd been drinking began to settle in.

"Hell-o, Rey" Poe smirked. He looked up at her from the ground. "Such a good view from down here"

"Yes, the under chin really is an attractive angle" Rey exclaimed sarcastically.

She hauled him up.

He led them all inside, BB squealing with excitement.

The Fraternity house was already alive and kicking, things being broken, people making out. The usual.

"Wow, this is... intense" BB breathlessly puffed. "It's freaking awesome!"

"Poe?" Rose walked over to him and his friends and asked where the drinks were. "You're an ass!"

"You love me Rose" He shrugs.

"I do not, I'm not Finn's annoying scrappy dog he likes to keep on a leash!" She kicked him in the shin.

"Hey watch it, I gotta play football tomorrow!"

Rey rolled her eyes and walked off toward the other rooms, finding the drinks on route. She picked up something that suspiciously was luminous and shrugged.

No harming in trying this.

She was wrong, it was very harmful.

"Jesus fuck!" She screeched as she coughed and spluttered.

"Rey, what's the noise abou- Ooh, that looks interesting!" BB had come over and dove straight for the luminous stuff.

"BB DON'T!" Rey was too late.

"Oh this is some strong stuff" BB blinked as her eyes rolled in different directions. "WOW, THAT'S SOME SHIT RIGHT THERE!"

Great, she's already drunk.

Rey knew she'd had too much wine, especially when she'd admitted to never drinking before.

Rey knew she was feeling the effects of whatever was in that drink, but not that badly.

Although, she was swaying a little...

Time went on and before Rey knew it she'd been dancing and chatting at the party for two hours.

Poe had tried to chat her up twice and both times she'd said she wasn't drunk enough.

But the more she sipped on beer, the more she contemplated taking him up on his offer.

He was handsome...

Her hand went to her phone in her bag and saw a message...

It was from him...

I don't know if I should delete your number

Have you deleted mine?

Rey giggled like she was twelve and typed back.

Who dis?

Rey laughed at how funny she was being. Pow came over to her at that point.

She didn't get a message straight away, but when she did, it was when Poe came over.

"Poe my main man!" Rey snorted. He looked startled.

"Rey, just letting you know Rose is off, she's already thrown up and Finn's sending her back in a taxi" He said slightly swaying on his feet.

Rey nodded.

"Poe, take a selfie with me!" She laughed. He laughed too but he didn't know at what.

She pulled up the front facing camera and pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

"Have you taken it yet?" Poe slurred.

"I thought I- Oh, I pressed video mode!" Rey cackled louder than a witch trying to frighten children.

Poe joined in and suddenly it was infectious.

They were giving out gut-busting laughs.

"Hey Poe" Rey giggled.

"Yeah?" He said cautiously.

Rey attacked him with her mouth, ferocious in her kissing.

It wasn't as good as remembering Kylo's lips on hers, but it was still better than anything in Jakku.

She still went in with her mouth, her hand still up and recording the moment.

Suddenly, they broke apart.

And started laughing again.

"Great snog, Rey" Poe chuckled.

Rey nodded in agreement, finishing the video and pressing save on her phone.

"Rey...." She heard a moan behind her and turned around.

BB was lying on the floor looking sad.

"Oh jesus" Rey wobbled where she stood. "You need to go home"

"I know..." She said miserably.

Rey didn't know what to do, but thankfully, Poe did.

"NINEY!" He shouted.

A big guy, probably Six foot six, came over to where they were stood. He had raven black hair and silver eyes, something Rey had never seen. He almost looked like some sort of Angel of Death.

BB tried to stand up as this man looked at her.

Her eyes went wide.

Rey rolled her eyes. The guy, also known as 'Niney', picked BB up off of the floor and helped her out of the house.

Rey was alone then, Rose and BB had left.

"Now, where were we?" Poe smirked.

So this was his plan all along, Rey thought. Get everyone to leave so he could seduce me.

Rey thought on it.

Ahh fuck it, why not.

[aworldawordatatime]

Original Content Day 1: The Disreputables

This entry was originally posted January 1st, but I moved it to this blog to keep track of my entries.

Also, if you want to try writing for yourself, here’s the prompt: 

Prompt 1: A short story that starts with dialogue.

“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing? And…is that some sort of crown?”

Maka froze at the computer console.  There wasn’t supposed to be anyone passing by for the next ten minutes.  She’d timed it precisely after analyzing hours of data. She looked up at the guard, a vein bulging in her forehead.  Apparently this one was immune to the whims of data analysis.

“I’m not thinking of doing anything,” she said, grabbing a small tube from one of her pockets and shaking it gently from side to side. “I’m afraid I’m a bit past that part.”

The security guard raised her weapon, but Maka merely sighed.

“For the record, I’m sorry I have to do this,” she said, twisting off the top.

A spray of giant, fuchsia foam erupted from the tiny container and expanded almost instantly, acting like ballistic gel for the rubber bullets that the guard had fired upon seeing it. The thick viscous material surged like a wave, covering the security guard and plastering her against the wall.  

“Also, for the record, it’s not a crown. That would be silly. It’s a hyperglass lens array and it took me three years to build it!” Maka said, even though she knew the guard could not hear her clearly through the wall of foam. “So perhaps you might understand why I hate it when people call it a mere crown.”

Maka turned back and began typing even faster. That level of noise would not go unnoticed by the others.  Sure enough, she began to hear the sound of alarms only a minute later. Or maybe it had been thirty seconds. She hadn’t been counting because she was trying to get through this bloody— the door opened and she sighed, her body slumping with relief.  She cracked her knuckles and slipped her gloves back on. They’d be mostly useless now, but at least she’d have better grip on the precious cargo inside.  Without looking, she pulled a small green pill from another pocket of many on her strange, patchwork outfit and slipped it under her tongue.  Wincing at the bitter flavor, she waited until her skin had gone the proper shade of purple (a curious but harmless side effect) and strode into the vault, grabbing the large, metal tube that hovered inside over a red raised base.  She could see a few bubbles floating in some sort of bluish-green fluid through a tiny porthole, but that was it. Oh well. She could be curious later. She lifted the entire thing over one shoulder with a grimace and then pulled down a large amber lens over one of her eyes with her free hand.

“I need a hole at the following coordinates,” she said, watching numbers flit over the glass like pixelated ants. She reached back and pushed a button on the side of the device where it covered her temple. “Sending now.”

Moments later, a blue light began to shine in a circular shape around one of the far walls and she cursed at how long it was taking.  She was going to have to adjust the lasers when she got back to base.  By the time they cut through, Maka had just thrown another foam vial (this one was banana-yellow, and smelled obnoxiously of the fake super-sweet orange flavoring that she’d always despised as a child), which caught a wave of surprised guards and sent them slamming against the wall as well, but she knew that they’d be bringing heavy artillery any moment, so it was best to escape rather than fight.  Besides, Maka hated killing low level employees or grunts if she didn’t have to.  After all, she and nearly everyone she knew had been forced into being one at some point.  It was simply the cost of starting out in the world, and she’d have been pretty bummed if some dashing and intrepid coat-for-hire had ended her before she could move onto bigger and better things.

“Are you going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to hand that to me?” A man with electric blue hair and eyes the color of dust reached out an overly long robotic arm towards the massive metal canister she was carrying.

Maka eyed the arm with disdain and wondered why he always seemed to be so determined to be such a show-off with his hydraulic appendage.

“Neither, actually,” she said, swinging it around and forcing him to duck to keep from being smashed in the face with it.  “My Exponential Strength pills should last me for at least another twenty minutes.”

He shrugged and turned his embroidered collar up to his chin; a sure sign that she’d riled him but he was saving it until later. “Suit yourself, Maka.”

Maka clucked her tongue at him, then ducked as a blast of white-hot energy nearly incinerated her head. The man swore low and reached behind his back to draw out a strangely thick device that looked as though a bunch of high voltage insulators had been merged into one, long barrel.  Two silent magnets floated and spun, instantly creating a giant blue charge that fired at the remaining guards, knocking them unconscious.  He slipped it into the back holster with a smooth movement and grabbed the end of the cannister, steadying it to guide the length of it through the hole in the wall.

Maka waited until they were through the external gates of the facility to ream him out. “And what was that? You’re getting sloppy, Coop. You would have stunned that one before they got the chance to get either of us in their sights.  Or are you that determined to get rid of me?” She was scowling, but her tone of voice was somewhat playful. It was an old argument— one without any teeth.

“Ah, save it for when we’re back on the ship.” Coop ran his robotic fingers through his hair, which seemed to make it stick up even straighter than before due to the residual static charge running through the metal.

Maka rolled her eyes behind him and silently mimicked his words.

“I saw that!” Coop exclaimed.

“I know,” she replied, sticking out her tongue as well.

“Why do you have to be taller than me?” Coop complained. “It’s hard helping you carry the goods.”

“If you’ll recall, I told you I didn’t need any help.”

“Even with your wonder science, you’re still going to get tired,” he shot back.

“I’ll be tired later,” she said, turning her head to the side and eyeing some lights growing larger in the distance, “Shut up, and keep running.”

They almost got to the ship before Maka’s enhanced strength began to fail. Her skin had faded to a soft lavender, but she was more focused on trying not to drop the canister as it seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each step.  Even Coop was panting loudly, and he was used to hoisting stuff in their stock room without breaking a sweat, so she felt slightly less bad about that.

Finally, the hatch doors creaked open, and Sumia waved to them, red-bay door button in hand as she smacked her gum.

“Got anything for me to add to the collection?” she asked, shaking her wrist, which was covered up to her elbow with varying styles of bracelets as they huffed by.

“Close the doors and tell Reg to punch it,” Maka growled back.

“Fine, fine,” Sumia said, pushing the button a bit too forcefully.

“What the hell is this thing, anyway?” Coop said. “It’d better be worth the trouble we went through to get it.”

“Oh, it’s worth it, all right,” Maka said, sipping something bright green and smoking that nobody was willing to ask about. It made smoke curl out of her nostrils as she spoke. “All the reliable intel suggests that those fascist bastards were in the midst of a breakthrough new tech that would transfer matter into energy and back instantly with minimal loss.  Once I analyze it, improve it, and figure out how to replicate it, we will be able to sell it off to the highest bidder, though not before we replicate the tech for ourselves, of course.”

“Are you sure we’ll be able to, though?” A shiny, ghostly figure floated over to Maka and looked into the small window canister curiously with slightly glowing eyes.

“I may have retrofitted you with enough software to assist me in my lab, Dezo,” Maka retorted, “but you are still primarily a medical synth. I say it’ll work, so it’ll work.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical. I forgot that you know everything,” Dezo replied, doing a very good eye-rolling impression.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let Sumia teach you sarcasm,” Maka said.

“Don’t look at me!” Sumia said, holding up her hands in mock-surrender.

“You’re going to open it, aren’t you, Maka?” Coop said, from where he was sitting on a crate, buffing out the scuffs on his boots. “Need I tell you how bad an idea that is given the information you’ve provided?”

“I’m a Disreputable Scientist, Coop. Not Mad,” Maka replied dismissively. “But yes, I’m going to open it.  You’re free to leave if you don’t want to see.”

“I’m not done with my shoes yet,” Coop replied. “Suppose I’ll see whether I want to or not.”

“Last chance to leave!” Maka said, glancing back to see a tall, bulky silhouette near the back of the room. “See? Even Reg is here!”

The shadow nodded.

“Erudite as always,” Sumia said with a smirk.

“Quiet, you,” Maka said testily as she twiddled with the console. “I’m trying to do science here.”

With a deep thrumming sound, the canister began to rise into the air.  Maka twisted a few knobs and dials, then held out her hand over a slot at the top of the console, catching the clear tablet that shot out of the top. She tapped and rubbed her fingers together and a stylus made of light appeared in her hand.  She began to write various characters and then slid the tablet back into place.  The door on the canister popped open, and the fluid was poured gently into the grates below, where the material would be pumped into a sterile vat and analyzed. Maka had already analyzed everything for radiation and toxicity, but found that things were rather less interesting than advertised.

Laser gently cut along the seams in the canister, removing the bottom and top. Then splitting down both sides and popping it in half lengthwise.

“And now…the moment we’ve…” Maka trailed off as she saw what was drooping over the edge of the bottom half of the cannister.

“Is that…what I think it is?” Coop said, his boots all but forgotten.

“A bird?” Sumia asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so, unless you know of a bird with human feet,” Dezo pointed out, extending an arm to point at the brown toes hanging over one side.

“But…that’s impossible,” Maka whispered, twisting a knob to slowly lower the remaining piece to the floor.

“Says the scientist. Who, last time I checked, told me she thinks that anything is possible,” Coop countered.

“Looks like Mr. Impossible is waking up,” Sumia said, blushing somewhat pink at the sight of the obviously unclothed winged man.

They were feathered wings, though they dripped with the fluid that had been removed.  His whole body seemed to have a slight bluish tinge from being covered in slimy solution.  Dark ringlets of hair cascaded wetly down his shoulders, sticking to his neck and back. A stray strand of hair stuck to one cheek as he stirred.

“This seems…like a bad idea,” Coop said, standing. “You did say infinite energy, right?  What if…this thing…”

“He’s not a thing!” Maka snarled, fury and anguish coloring her features.

She turned the console’s key, shutting it down, and ran towards the man.  As she came to stand at his feet, his eyes opened.  Dark pupils regarded her ringed in molten gold and fire, and Maka had to tell herself to breathe. With a flourish of fabric, she pulled her lab coat off of her shoulders and draped it over one arm.

“Here. Take my hand,” she said softly, holding it out to him. “You’re safe now.”

“Maka—”  Cooper went silent as she flashed him an expression of cold fury.

“Ma…ka?” The winged man said, his head tilting to the side.  He reached out and took her hand, allowing her to pull him up to a sitting position.

“Maka,” Maka repeated, pointing to herself. “Here. You’ll need this.”

She draped the cloth over the front of him, as the wings were still twitching and randomly shuddering against the wetness.  The white of her coat contrasted with the darkness of his skin, and she wondered at the gray feathers that peppered his shoulder blades and disappeared up his neck where they were hidden by his hair.

“Coop, you’ve got to get him cleaned up.” It was not a request.

“Why should I—oh fine! Just stop looking at me like that!”  Coop left his boots on the crate and walked over barefoot. “Come on, then, bird brain.”

“Don’t call him that,” Maka said scathingly.  “Sumia. Prepare a meal.  Nuts and berries, mostly. Other fruit if we have any left.”

“Roger, boss!” Sumia said, speeding off.

“I’ll get to sewing something with wing slits,” Reg said, his deep voice rumbling out from the shadows.

Maka smiled.  She’d been fairly sure that she wouldn’t even have to ask Reg and she was right.

“Maka, how do you know what to do?” Dezo asked, hovering in a puzzled sort of manner.

“I’ve seen this before.” She balled her hands into fists and squeezed tightly. “Those bastards do not have the right.”

“The right to do what?”

“They would make his kind work for the universe instead of the other way around.”

“And his kind is…?”  Dezo made a confused whirring noise.

Maka pulled her hair away from her neck, revealing the lightest hint of dark gray down.  “Does this answer your questions?”

She walked purposefully out of the processing area with Dezo hot on her heels.

“Not at all!” Dezo beeped mournfully. “I seem only to have more.”

“You and me both, synth,” Maka muttered. “You and me both.”