#quick park quick shuttle

[1863-project]

A Quick And Easy Guide To The NYC Subway System (Using The Battle Subway)

Our subway system is actually three separate systems that unified in 1940. To help myself remember which lines are from which system, I assigned each of the three companies to one of the categories from the Battle Subway.

The IRT - Interborough Rapid Transit - is the oldest of the three, making its inaugural subway run in October 1904. (It just turned 120!) The IRT tunnels are narrower, so the cars are narrower as well, and the car lengths are a bit shorter. This makes it most suited for Singles, and considering Singles is likely the oldest codified form of battling, it makes sense. Prior to running subway lines, the IRT ran elevated lines.

The BMT - Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit Company - came about a bit later. It was originally known as the Brooklyn Rapid Transit Company (BRT), but the BRT went bankrupt and reformed as the BMT in 1923. BMT tunnels are wider, so the cars are too, and they're also a bit longer. Its first subway line opened in 1908. (Prior to that, it, like the IRT, ran elevated lines, and also owned a number of surface lines and trolley lines in Brooklyn.) Since the BMT cars are wider, they naturally work better for Doubles.

The IND - Independent Subway System - is the youngest of the three and was actually owned by the City of New York. The cars are the same width and length as the BMT cars (again, wider tunnels), so they're good for battling with multiple Pokemon at once. I assigned Multi to the IND since it's the newest of the three and in-universe it just feels right for tag battle rules to solidify a bit later.

In 1940, the three systems were unified under the IND's operations, and a unified NYC Subway has existed ever since. Since the IRT cars are smaller than the BMT and IND cars, they're divided up into two divisions, A Division (IRT) and B Division (BMT and IRT). They all still run on standard gauge, though.

The chart in the image divides them up. The IRT is the numbered lines (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) and the 42nd Street Shuttle. The BMT is the J/Z, L, M, N, Q, R, and W lines and the Franklin Avenue Shuttle. The IND is the A, B, C, D, E, F, and G lines and the Rockaway Park Shuttle.

This is what I get paid to do at work, apparently.

[msmk11]

Whatever You Say, Dear

Hermione Granger x reader

WC: 584

CW: being scared of airports; fluff

Summary: You hate airports. Thank god for your girlfriend. (I think I hate this work but oh well!)

Day 10 of mk’s mad dash

Airports are your worst nightmare. It’s not the flying part that bothers you- though that’s always a little unnerving too- but the scary security guards, the lingering fear that your luggage will get lost, and the stress of always having to be in the right place at the right time.

Your girlfriend knows this, so she’d assured you that she would take care of all the travel plans for your first ever trip together. When you two first decided to go to Australia, Hermione took charge of booking the flights, the layovers, and the hotels. You were left with the more fun tasks- researching excursions, restaurants, and the top things to do in the area where you’d be staying.

Though one burden was lifted off your shoulders, your day of travel looms before you frighteningly. The night before you leave, you are tossing and turning in bed all evening, not getting a wink of sleep. Even with Hermione’s attempted caresses and soothing words, the nerves rumbling in your stomach cannot be calmed.

You’re up and heading to the airport early, suitcases stowed in the trunk and you in the passenger seat, leg bouncing. Hermione reaches out and puts her hand on your thigh, urging you to still.

“Sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay, promise. Just turn off that pretty head of yours and let me do all the worrying okay?”

You turn and look at her and take a deep breath, “yeah, okay, okay.”

So like Hermione said, you try to turn your brain off. When she parks the car, you mechanically step out of the passenger seat and grab your luggage. You hold Hermione’s hand while you wait for the shuttle, and she holds yours in her lap on the ride over to the terminal.

When you step past the sliding glass doors at the airport, your senses are immediately overwhelmed by all the people milling about, the bright, yellow lights, and the cold stares of the workers who look like they want to be anywhere else but here.

Hermione gently urges you to a bench and then goes to drop off your luggage and print your boarding passes.

She’s quick, or at least seems so to your dazed self. Hermione grabs your hand again and pulls you along to security. Your girlfriend knows that this is the hardest part of traveling for you, so she squeezes your hand gently as you stand in line to go through security.

“Just gotta answer a couple questions and walk through a metal detector okay? You’ve done nothing wrong so they have no reason to be suspicious of you.”

You nod shakily and grip tightly onto her until a security guard harshly ushers you through the beeping metal detector.

A major sigh of relief escapes your body when nothing happens, and you quickly find another bench as soon as Hermione finishes in security.

Your girlfriend is quick to put on her shoes, and then she kneels at your feet, “here, let me, sweetheart.”

Hermione grabs your ankle gingerly and slips your foot into your gym shoe, tying the laces in a bow tightly. She does the same on the other foot and then stands, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m so, so proud of you sweetheart. Now we just get to relax until we board. Think you can just sit pretty for me?”

“I’ll do whatever you say, dear,” you reply, mind hazy and heart thumping from all the warm affection Hermione has offered you.

[jasfhercallejo]

It is not often that you find a luxurious resort complex, set in amazing scenery on the shores of a lake, that is equipped with fantastic amenities and only just over 100kms from Manila.

Mountain Lake Resort is located beside Lake Caliraya in the town of Cavinti, Laguna and overlooking the majestic Mount Banahaw of Quezon. Situated in the almost 300 hectare property, this resort in Laguna perfectly blends sumptuously tropical accommodation and fun-filled outdoor activities to meet your specific needs.

The most memorable part of this trip is probably us trying to channel our inner Tiger Woods. We literally had zero expectations since none of us has tried doing this activity before, but we found ourselves enjoying the Caliraya Springs Golf Course. Food was okay, service was okay, but the view is breathtaking. It took us almost four hours of driving, but we cannot think of a better boyfriend-meets-brother bonding than traveling and enjoying some adrenaline.

There is so much to do in this resort given their array of activities available, whether you're a little lazy or highly active. It’s rightly a destination to de-stress – and nurture the tranquil surrounding.

They have more than 32 attractions and activities to enjoy – obstacle course, zip line, hanging bridge, paddleboat, and swimming pool to name a few. After the tiring activities that we did that day, we’ve thought that nothing was more relaxing than taking a quick staycation at Seda Nuvali. We had some cocktails to cap the trip, and we had some filling breakfast before we head on to our last itinerary — ang walang kamatayang Enchanted Kingdom.

Enchanted Kingdom was as extraordinary as I remember it. The park features a variety of rides, attractions, and entertainment options, including roller coasters, water rides, and live shows. Deciding which ones to try can be challenging.

As you may know, my boyfriend is not much of an adrenaline junkie. (I know he only tries because he loves me so much haha) I can still vividly remember how he cried during our first try at the jungle log, and how we failed at convincing him trying the Space Shuttle (which me and my brother did twice lol). Nonetheless, we all ended that weekend knowing that we will always be children at heart.

Magic, indeed, lives forever!

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

By tacit agreement, they’d shelved the more sensitive subjects their thirty minute journey from Roma Termini; postponing grim reality with a wide array of desultory chitchat. The magazines he’ll read on the plane, for example. The meals he’ll be obliged to eat. The inescapable jet lag that’s bound to knock him for six. Denial is grief’s distractor - or so his beloved bubbe used to say - yet such advice itself proves futile as Fiumicino’s glass façade renders him breathless; the gaping wound in Oliver’s torso bleeding ribbons atop the sun-baked parking lot.

“Are you sure you have your passport?”

Elio’s voice is unnervingly blank as he stares out the window of their idling shuttle bus; the lean muscles of his jaw bunched in solemn contrast to the quick-bitten nails tap-tap-tapping his star of David. It’s not the first time he’s asked - nor, Oliver suspects, is he truly heeding his response - but forcing a smile to his frozen features he pats his leather holdall regardless; acutely aware of his livewire knee jerking in the narrow space between them. 

By tacit agreement, they’d shelved the more sensitive subjects their thirty minute journey from Roma Termini; postponing grim reality with a wide array of desultory chitchat. The magazines he’ll read on the plane, for example. The meals he’ll be obliged to eat. The inescapable jet lag that’s bound to knock him for six. Denial is grief’s distractor - or so his beloved bubbe used to say - yet such advice itself proves futile as Fiumicino’s glass façade renders him breathless; the gaping wound in Oliver’s torso bleeding ribbons atop the sun-baked parking lot. 

It’s all a bit of a blur after that, with Elio offering sporadic translations as they navigate the bustling concourse; both fists jammed in the pockets of his jeans ‘til they’re done checking his bags. Oliver yearns to soothe his pain. To gather him close and never let go. But like a fool, he’s allowed a physical gulf to fester, also. There's no comfort in this phoney shield - no healing from something not properly expressed - and crushed by the weight of their self-imposed exile he’s suddenly struck by the macabre notion their last, frantic kiss at the Pensione Barrett could indeed be just that.

Their last.

And the standard by which all others fall short.

“You’re staring,” Elio mutters, mouth flattened to a hard line, and Oliver’s plagued by indecision as his tell-tale heart beats for the want of another. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, half-embarrassed and completely unmoored. “I shouldn’t -”

“Anch’io...” Shuffling his feet, Elio tugs at Billowy’s sleeves where he’s rucked them up to his elbows. “Does it bother you?” A pause. “That I’m wearing it?”

No.

And yes. 

Though not in the way he might expect.

The possessive thrill of seeing Elio in his clothes triggers something primal, but given the circumstances, Oliver swallows thickly, a vicious ache rising in his chest as he curses the cards they’ve been dealt. 

“What’s mine is yours,” he says eventually, earning a brittle scoff, and the next thing he knows he’s grasping Elio’s wrist like a goddamn lifeline: towing him through the airport pandemonia to the nearest restroom because fuck what anyone else thinks of them.

By some small miracle the long row of cubicles are empty, so Oliver makes a beeline for the furthest stall; throwing the lock then kissing him fiercely, crowding him into the graffiti-covered partition. It comes across too confident when he’s teetering on the brink, but Elio’s body is warm and familiar as he commits each frenzied movement to memory; piecing them back together as Plato envisioned, headless of the one p.m direct flight still waiting to rip them apart.

“I keep telling myself you’re going to change your mind,” Elio whispers, pressing his forehead to the crook of Oliver’s neck. “I keep thinking you’re going to stay.” He doesn’t sound angry. Or even accusatory. Yet the abject resignation in his slumped demeanour strikes a harrowing chord. “Only you’re not, are you,” he continues roughly: less a question than a statement. “When that gate opens -”

“Elio…”

“- you’re just going.”

Unhunching slightly, he clutches the dark-green material of Oliver’s Oxford: a weary Atlas braving the eternal struggle. His palm kneads his shoulder the exact same manner Oliver’s did that afternoon on the tennis court, and the churning of his stomach increases exponentially as Elio lets slip the occasional sniffle over the ancient ceiling fan. 

Is it better to speak or die, echoes from the recent past.

You’re hurting me, follows right after.

Scenes from their San Clemente summer play like an old home movie, and the truth is irrefutable as Oliver takes him in his arms; his lover, his soulmate, the sun he’s orbited from the very start.

“Hey…” he murmurs, rocking him gently. “Hey... it’s okay. This isn’t over, yeah? You won’t lose me. Not if I can help it.” There’s a promise beneath his words - an outlandish certainty, likewise - and Oliver hopes with everything he has that Elio hears it also. “I’ll phone. We’ll write. There’s the book tour in the spring…”

Mere crumbs, he’ll admit, to the banquet on which they’re versed, and Elio’s eyes hide nothing as he chews his bottom lip, hands dropping limply to settle at his sides. “Do you have any idea?” he asks then, sans the raw urgency of before. “How glad I am we found each other? How happy I am you came?”

Oliver inhales sharply - allowing himself a choked-up sob - and as a broad, Italian accent booms from the overhead speaker it’s all he can do to hold on tighter: the salty sting of mingled tears bitter upon his tongue.

[lialacleaf]

The Chief And The Intern

Chief x Reader

Was Waiting All Along

It had been months since you had heard from John. Life hadn’t been the same since you’d gone back to finish your last semester of your master degree. University used to excite you, but after having run around the galaxy with the UNSC, being in actual danger, you felt bored.

Your friends noticed the difference when suddenly you were unavailable to go to the mall, and more interested in visiting the firing range.

Your mother almost fainted when she learned you’d taken up a martial arts class in your spare time. Your grades weren’t suffering, so you didn’t exactly see the problem.

Your father had pestered you every day to submit your application to his company, but the only place you’d sent your application was the UNSC’s board of communications.

You were going to find John, and the rest of Blue Team. You couldn’t just submit to the life your parents wanted for you, even if you’d be monumentally disappointing them.

You were scrolling through your laptop in your little dormitory when you saw it. You’d been scrolling through emails for hours, each rejection letter making your heart sink further and further when you saw it.

“We would like to receive your application for our recently opened clerical assistant position.”

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing but there was one little phrase that caught your eye.

“Reporting to Spartan Lieutenant 104”

There was no way. Fred had found you? How in the world had he managed that? You took a quick glance over the email before following the provided link to submit your application and cover letter.

“You did what?” your father asked as you silently cut into your steak.

“I applied to the UNSC, and I got in. I’m leaving after the graduation ceremony,” you stated firmly.

“But what about the job your father lined up for you at his company! You’re just going to throw that away? I can’t imagine the UNSC is going to pay someone very much for communications work,” your mother rambled frantically as she set her fork down.

Family diners in your parent’s penthouse were always tense, but this was another ball park entirely.

“It’s clerical work actually,” you muttered.

“Yn! What are you thinking!” your mother asked.

I’m thinking there’s a very handsome space soldier up there waiting for me. I’m thinking I’m tired of being coddled at thirty two years old.

“It’s a good opportunity. Free travel, important connections-“

“It’s unsafe!”

“Nowhere is safe Mom!” You said, slamming your knife on the table. “I’m tired of pretending that Sydney is safe just because it makes you feel better to have me at arm's length,” you said, standing from your place at the table.

“You’re not going to survive out there, yn,” your father scoffed.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have before, but things are different now. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

Your parents didn’t come to your graduation ceremony. You noticed that their chairs were empty as you lined up to walk across the stage.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were being punished for not doing what you were told. Despite having argued with them, you’d at least wanted them to attend.

You tried to smile for the pictures as you walked across the stage, but it didn’t feel real. After the ceremony you packed your suitcases and left your dorm for the shuttles.

What if John wasn’t waiting for you anymore? What if you got up there and he’d moved on entirely?

You felt your throat tighten as you neared the pickup and your legs began to shake.

Were you making a mistake? Could you still turn around? Your parents would never respect you if you did.

You shook your head, silencing these thoughts as you loaded onto the shuttle. This wasn’t just about John. You were doing this for yourself as well.

“Wasn’t she supposed to be here already?”

Fred didn’t bother answering the question, knowing full well that if he told John the cargo ship was running late he’d probably grab a rifle and a ship and go out looking for you himself.

Six months wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to make the Master Chief miss you so much he could hardly breathe.

“She’ll get here when she gets here,” Fred said with a shrug as they waited in the cargo hold.

“She’ll probably be hungry, we should take her to the mess. She’s probably forgotten how to get there,” Kelly said, admittedly excited to see you again.

When the intercom finally announced the arrival of your ship, Blue Team sprung into action. John searched the faces of deboarding passengers for you, feeling a sense of panic until your smaller figure appeared, hauling two large suitcases.

He froze all of a sudden, willing his feet to move but unable to do so. He’d never felt this way before. Never had to hesitate, and yet he felt as if his stomach was doing summersaults.

Your eyes finally settled on him, and your feet halted.

Six months. Had anything changed?

You moved first, your hands abandoning their grip on your bags as you ran to him. Time seemed to catch up with the Spartan all of a sudden, and he barely registered that you had flung yourself towards him in time to bend forward and wrap his arms around your waist, hauling you in for a tight hug that squeezed the breath right out of you.

You buried your face in the Chief’s shoulder and sighed, the smell of gunpowder and cinnamon a sure sign that you were home.

“How’d you find me?” You murmured into his shoulder.

“Wasn’t that hard. Had some connections keeping an eye out for you. Ready to get back to work?”

He asked, setting you down as Fred and Kelly retrieved your bags. Linda gave you a firm pay on the shoulder in greeting.

This was exactly what you needed. Blue Team’s support, the promise of adventure on the horizon, and the Chief’s arms around you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you declared with a grin and the Spartan smiled softly at you. He had you back, and this time he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

Tag List: @discowizard88 @laurenstacy610 @amaraohara @starchaser-the-prophet @embarrassedauthornerd @117s-girl

[clairekudzu-secondbloom]

Alright, I've made a tentative first chapter for my first HDG fic!

Give me that constructive criticism, give me that praise and compliments, or give nothing at all and don't read, that's cool too!

Anyway, it's under the read more!

Domestication of Barbarians

Ch 1: Unexpected

This was supposed to be an easy trip! Just a quick dip into a nearby nebula, in front of the Affini Compact expansion; preliminary scans showed no signs of life in this sector, so after filing the requisite paperwork they were permitted a small ship to sightsee with. Four affini with 5 florets, that's more than enough affini to keep them safe.

But midway through the jump, the shuttle shuddered and suddenly dropped out of hyperspace in what felt like an explosion.

Eryth Tarax, Fourth Bloom, quickly took stock of the situation, checking the control terminal before muttering to herself, “Our hyperdrive has blown, but otherwise the hull is intact. No imminent danger to our florets or to us. Thank the Everbloom.” She sighed, relaxing her vine weave around her core.

“Apologies for the delay captain, I was running simulations to determine what happened. Would you like to hear the most likely scenario?” The ship AI, which handles most operations for the shuttle, asked Eryth.

“Yes, if you would.”

“The most likely scenario is that we were hit with a hyperspace charge, most likely a mine from some unknown sophont conflict. I am unable to determine any origin sophont, or when this battle occurred. It could have happened elsewhere and the mine drifted here, too, considering I'm not detecting any other mines in the vicinity.” The AI rattled off the results of its simulations, as requested.

Eryth sighed in relief again, then walked out of the helm to the rest of the ship. Outside the command room was an atrium, decorated into being a small park, with 7 rooms around it. There was the engine room towards the rear, the helm at the front, three large rooms on one side, and the remaining two rooms opposite those, along with the airlock door.

The captain knocked on the door of the room closest to the helm.

“Zoysia, are you and your florets okay in there?”

The door slid open, revealing another affini cradling two terrans in her vine-woven arms.

“Yes yes, we're all quite fine. Thank the stars they were already napping in my vines, though they were jolted awake. Are you and the ship well?” Zoysia Paoles, Second Bloom, wore a gentle but concerned look on her wood-covered face.

“Yes. The hyperdrive took damage though and will need to be repaired before we can get moving again. I’d hate to tear you away from your precious little cuties here for even a minute, but could you spare a vine to look it over, maybe repair it if you're able?”

“Of course. Julia, Zeff, you two behave. If you're good, there's extra Class-As for you both!” Zoysia nodded to Eryth before looking down at her florets, setting them on the floor of the room after turning around. The terrans nodded and replied, in unison, “Of course mistress!” They then carefully walked over to the bed at the back of the room, their magnetized shoes keeping them gently attached to the floor, but making it hard for them to move quickly on their own.

Eryth smiled as the florets moved away, before herself turning away and moving to the other rooms, her vines hooking into microloops on the floor rather than relying on magnets to keep her anchored, knocking and informing the other two affini of the ship's condition and apologizing for the delay in their trip.

She then returned to the helm, whereupon the ship AI started dumping new information. “I double-checked our position and rescanned the local planets. We're outside of comms range at the moment, but given the local expansion plans there should be a relay close enough in a terran month. With luck, Miss Zoysia can repair the hyperdrive before then and thus render my information irrelevant. We might be able to secure any needed resources from this system’s planets. However, one of these planets differs from preliminary scans by a large margin. It appears to harbor intelligent life.”

Eryth’s vines tightened at that mention. “Pre-sophont?”

“Undocumented sophont species, heavily utilizing iron, stone, fire, and acid.” The AI sent a photo to Eryth’s tablet, showing this species. A bipedal creature, with wings on their back, tall ears with horns curving around the base, a short snout on their face. Their body was mostly covered in fur, with patches of scales covering joints and vulnerable areas. It reminded Eryth of a bipedal version of a terran rabbit, mixed with what they called a dragon.

“Dirt. That's the only planet in this system with life, yes? That'll make it hard to get new flora or nutrients to regrow and repair with. We might have to try and sneak down there anyway. I don't think any of us are trained for first contact, nor to start a cotyledon. Roots and rot.” Eryth slapped the nearby desk with a vine, careful to not dent it.

“At least tell me they are peaceful and calm?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not,” the AI replied.

[whiteravengreywolf]

Wish You Were Here - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with another story in the Life of the Wolf, the Wren and their Cub series! This time they are taking a little vacation to Krownest! Here is the beginning and if you enjoy it you'll find the link to the full story at the end!

It took about a year for Uschi to finally convince her mother to take her to Krownest. It wasn’t just that Sabine didn’t want to go back there. The place was charged with a lot of memories, some of which she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. But it was also Uschi’s inheritance, and the girl deserved to play in the snow for a little while before she was too old to enjoy it to its fullest. So, despite her hesitation, Sabine packed up everything they needed in the shuttle and they journeyed to the New Kleyman system.

Uschi was positively vibrating in her seat as they pulled out of hyperspace and approached the frozen planet. Shin had been driving, as if to spare Sabine, to let her focus on her emotions, but once they approached the orbit of the planet, Sabine took over, driving them down toward the Wren stronghold.

Uschi gasped when they broke through the clouds and she saw the snow for the first time. It smeared down the slopes of grey mountains like rough brushstrokes, powdered the leaves of trees and carpeted the ground. The lower they descended, the shinier it seemed. They flew over a frozen lake, and the stronghold came into view, drawing another gasp from the girl. It was made of glass and concrete, jutting out of the mountain and standing like a stack of boxes on the edge of the lake.

“Is this where you grew up?” Uschi asked.

“Yep.”

“It’s so cool.”

Sabine brought the shuttle on the roof, where they used to keep their small fleet of ships, and she parked it there. Once the landing pads rested steadily on the roof, she cut out the engines. While Uschi unbuckled her seatbelt and rushed out of the cockpit, Sabine wasn’t so quick to move. She took a deep breath, hands rubbing at her knees like she wasn’t sure she would be able to get up. Shin placed a hand on her lap, drawing her attention.

“I can keep her occupied, if you need a moment.”

Sabine sighed, but gave her a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

Shin stared a second longer at her, as if trying to deciphering how much Sabine was lying. Enough to be concerned, but not enough to call her out on it. She gave a little nod.

“Alright,” Sabine said, finally, as she stood up. “Let’s get her inside before she freezes over.”

[ai-art-ocs]

OC- Lyra/T’Lyra

As a human: she’s raised in a mixed community on earth where she is influenced by many earth and alien cultures that have settled in the big city she grew up in. She attended inner city public schools for her entire education which gave her a quick eye for social cues and how to avoid a fight and tread carefully. Despite not going to the most prestigious schools as a child, the education system overall in the world has improved in the 2300s allowing for personalized courses and access to higher learning methods with better ease. It many not be on the same level as the Vulcan learning pods, but Lyra advances through courses and finds her way through math and science much faster than her peers, somewhat of a prodigy. She begins computer science and engineering courses as soon as they are available to her and finds her niche in theoretical transwarp physics as a junior in high school. She begins to research and learn all she can about the subject and explore all she can. Eventually, this curiosity leads to questions about the impact of warp on life and her interests turn back to the blue sciences rather than the reds of engineering. By the time she enters Starfleet to conduct further research (because every one of the best papers she’s read has come either from the VSA or a tenured Starfleet officer) she is ready to do whatever it takes to find the answers to all her burning questions about space travel. How to improve it, how it changes humanity, what it means to be human, what it means to be alien, what it means to be from somewhere at all. She wants to expand the known universe and her mind - to confront the stars and herself among them as she ventures into the great unknown.

As a Vulcan/Human hybrid: she’s raised on Vulcan until it is destroyed when she is six. She remembers the day clearly with her eidetic memory. Her family was together in a park in ShiKahr when the attack started and when the evacuation began, they were able to board a shuttle and get off planet safely. They became some of the only surviving Vulcans. Post-destruction of Vulcan, T’Lyra and her family moved to earth, her father’s home world (her mother being her Vulcan parent). Despite growing up mostly on earth, her family lives nearby the Vulcan embassy and her mother is very devoted to retaining her Vulcan roots, especially in light of the destruction of Vulcan. T’Lyra does her best to emulate her mother in every way, including being as Vulcan as she can be, despite her red blood and how tempting it is to smile or blush or tuck her hair behind her ear and respond to the social cues of the human boys around her as she ages. Her mother has less difficulty conceiving a human child than Amanda did conceiving a Vulcan child, and T’Lyra has a younger brother, V’Luk who was born after the family arrived on earth. Her brother is much more human in his tendencies than she is, though she does all she can to encourage him to act in the Vulcan way. They are both more biologically human than Vulcan, somewhere around 60% Vulcan in large part due to their blood being human rather than the green of a Vulcan, though their hearts are still located where they would be on a Vulcan. It seems that though there are now more Vulcan/human hybrids, the data does not help cross-case. Even the siblings are dissimilar to each other in their biology in some ways that make their health distinctive. As T’Lyra gets older, she goes to school with the other Vulcan children who stay on earth at the embassy. She spends her life looking up to Commander Spock who was part of the command team to save the Vulcan high council and Earth from its destruction and who is notably one of the only other Vulcan/human hybrids. Inspired by his efforts in Starfleet, she makes strides to follow his path and join Starfleet someday.

Process/Results:

I started initially just wanting to do a Starfleet officer, hence Lyra. Then I decided to see how the ai could handle a Vulcan with the ears and all. It did not do well with prompts to copy Spock’s facial pattern or Vulcan ears. It struggled with the idea of Vulcan eyebrows and I gave up. I eventually had to use a prompt with elf ears instead, which is why the shape is off - not quite to my liking but close enough when given context. I realized halfway through that Vulcans have green blood and Lyra had a red blush so I tried some prompts to see if I could get a green tinge to the skin instead and…. AI was super confused and only did like one slightly correct generation of the prompt. AI still struggles with fantastical ideas. It can do normal skin tones, but not odd ones. Maybe it doesn’t have any samples of that? Makes sense if it doesn’t have access to that kind of imaginative art to sample.

[bcbdrums]

Landing

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Second in a series of 31 prompt-based one-shots. Prompts from this list.

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

A/N: Man I had SO many ideas for this short and I could have dragged it on and on and on... I forced myself to stop. But know...this could have really gone on. I really like this one. 2. Airport

The night was inky but for the blue and green lights laid out in a vast grid across acres of pavement, their purpose unknown to the lone observer in the nearby parking lot. But Spirit's focus was elsewhere anyway. The only red lights to be seen were flashing under the wings of the plane that distantly taxied down the runway, and he hugged himself against the cold as he watched the shape of the steel bird carrying the woman he'd chosen out of his life again.

The roar of the jet engines was deafening when it finally lifted away like magic, but Spirit didn't cover his ears nor move from his spot near the parking lot fence until he could no longer see the shape of the wings, and the red lights were mere pinpricks rising higher and higher into the night sky, soon to vanish among the stars.

Finally, when he couldn't tell one pair of flashing, distant beacons from another, he bowed his head as he rubbed his arms through the sleeves of his blazer and started trudging his way back across the huge expanse of asphalt toward some place where he could get a ride. Maybe there was still time for a drink at the airport before he had to catch the next train, and heaven knew he needed one.

Against his will, he was already replaying the entire incident in his head, from the long journey in the taxi where she wouldn't even look at him let alone speak to him, to his reluctant and humiliating signing of one paper after another in the tiny office of a county courthouse.

He really needed a drink.

"You didn't bring a coat."

Spirit jumped at the sound, his heart in his throat even though recognition was instant and his mind was relaxing before his body had fully processed the shock.

"Stein! What are you doing here?"

He had lurched back at the too-close sound out of the darkness but was hugging his arms tightly again almost instantly, suddenly realizing just how cold it was as he was forced out of his depressed reminiscence and back to the present.

"I followed you," Stein said simply.

Spirit noted the man's typical attire of lab coat, patchwork turtleneck, and time-faded black jeans, and how his hands sat comfortably in his coat pockets and a cigarette rested lazily between his lips. He had no winter coat in sight either, and Spirit did some quick calculations.

"But I left Death City before sundown," he protested. Stein said nothing, and Spirit's mind ran over the rest of the implications of his former meister's words. "You've been spying on me for over four hours!?"

"She made that take unnecessarily long."

Spirit shivered, felt his teeth chatter as he stared into Stein's knowing eyes, looked at the slight tightening at the corners of his old partner's mouth that only he would notice, indicative of his good humor.

Spirit finally sputtered something between a laugh and a scoff, and then hurried close to the younger man's side. Stein turned and set an arm around Spirit's shoulders as they started back across the parking lot and toward the shuttle station, and the weapon hesitated for barely a moment before leaning into the meister's side. It was only a mild relief—Stein was cold too—but it was better than nothing.

"Please tell me you drove."

"Ah, no, I wasn't thinking."

Spirit grimaced. The train would be warmer, but not nearly warm enough on the frosty Nevada winter's night. He didn't like the idea of buying overpriced outerwear in one of the airport shops, but he liked the idea of freezing to death even less. Even the air was starting to feel like ice, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

"We'd better hurry before the shops close," he said, attempting to lengthen his stride despite the painful chill settling into his bones.

Stein matched his pace but didn't reply, and Spirit wondered at the man's silence after having devoted the entire evening to secretly following him and his ex-wife around.

"What is it?"

Stein didn't look at him, but Spirit noticed a change in the tension at the corners of his mouth.

"Nothing. What was it she wanted, anyway?"

A shiver ran through Spirit and he pressed in closer, matching Stein's step so their legs brushed as they walked. He hesitated in replying, but finally sighed and let it go, his throat tightening before he uttered a word.

"There was an entire folder of papers I'd forgotten to sign at the divorce proceeding. I was...distracted at the time."

For the second time that evening his mind was wrenched back to that dreadful day, the way his wife—ex-wife—had sat with such detachment and poise as he was falling apart, watching the judge nod agreement to everything her lawyer had put forth about his being an unfit parent.

"Her lawyer is on vacation for the holidays and the signing had to be witnessed by the judge who adjudicated the case for some reason. And he was in Las Vegas this weekend. Would have been nice to know before this morning..."

He recalled not for the first time that day the way Maka had sat as near to her mother as the court would allow those months ago, grinning all the while and occasionally sending dark looks in his direction. She had been visibly elated when the judge declared him stripped of all parental rights, despite the fact that Maka lived and attended school where he worked. And then he remembered the way Maka had hugged her mother after the decision... Remembered watching the brief exchange of words between the two from his lonely seat across the room, his wife caressing their daughter's face as Maka looked back into her mother's eyes with love... And then they had left together, his wife the one to bring Maka back to Death City that day before leaving again.

Despite being on the same train back, Spirit hadn't seen Maka again that day or for several weeks after. She had moved in with her weapon partner before he and his wife had officially separated, and without the court hearings forcing them together he was reduced to hanging around outside her classroom and taking his chances for fleeting, one-sided conversation. But those were fewer and farther between, and never appreciated.

Maka loved her mother. And she made it clear each time he tried to see her that there was no room left for him in her heart. It was in Spirit's nature to hold on to hope, but the hard truth was that since the divorce...he had been well and truly alone.

Except for the bottle, of course.

"If you ask me," Stein said, interrupting the downward spiral of Spirit's thoughts, "they should really change some of those custody laws."

Spirit hadn't realized tears were welling in his eyes from the memories until hearing Stein's voiced support, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat and attempted to blink the hot moisture away. Was it fogging up out there, or was that just his imagination?

"Thanks," he finally said, his voice hoarse. He hoped Stein knew he meant for more than the encouraging words.

Far more.

He felt Stein shiver, and after a moment, Spirit released himself from the tight hold he still had on one bicep to slide an arm around Stein's waist. They were only about twenty yards from the shuttle station, and distant headlights suggested they wouldn't have too long a wait once there.

"I'll buy you a drink. One drink," Stein said. Anyone else listening would have only heard the meister's usual monotone, but Spirit heard the command.

Unseen to Stein, the weapon smiled softly. There would be no drowning his memories and sorrows in too much alcohol this time. But perhaps, now that he wasn't alone... He wouldn't need to.

[badrcputation]

— Sampo scoops up his dearest Eros and gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm taking you out somewhere romantic today~" He lets out a hearty laugh and practically twirls out the door, fully intending on carrying him to his old shuttle that's parked outside the city walls.

@draconicfool // sc.

[stokofsky]

Runners part 9

B-111 was excited to see what BX-626 had done with The Runner. Gray was simply no color for a space craft. He and K-3NT neared BX-626’s star port and he could see the glint of a wingtip through the tightly packed shuttles and starfighters parked all around it. He sped up.

“Where is the fiiiire?” K-3NT protested behind him. He’d done better in the foot traffic on the way back, B-111 had been happy to notice. But it still seemed to be unexpectedly taxing for him, mentally. B-111 was sure he’d get there, with time and practice.

“I want to see The Runner, Enty! Come on!” B-111 ducked under and around the other ships, all with mere centimeters of wiggle room between them. That was what was possible when only Droids were landing at a star port. When BX-626 had acquired this place more than a decade ago, she’d been told it could accommodate a maximum of six vessels. There had to be at least twice that parked here. And the Runner was parked right in the middle of it all.

It was sitting resplendent in the same dark metallic bronze finish he’d given his own plating, and that his old rouge-class had been finished in. It made an immensely pleasant difference.

“Why is it brown?” B-111 turned to find K-3NT looking up at the Runner as if bemused. His voice had certainly carried a tone of confusion. 

“Not brown!” B-111 said, irrepressible in his enthusiasm, “That, Enty, is Geonosian Bronze.”

“It looks like brown to me.” “Yeah, and your finish is pink.”

“No it isn’t! It’s Tskad bl-Oh.” K-3NTs shoulders sagged and he glared at B-111. “Very funny.” B-111 shrugged, “turnaround is fair and sound.” K-3NT gave him a sideways look.

B-111 ignored the look, and instead tapped a control surface on his wrist, opening the viewport hatch on the Runner. 

“Just going to leave without saying anything?” B-111 turned to see K-3NT tensely pointing his blaster rifle at BX-626.

“Where did you come from? There is a less than 30% chance you could have approached without detection in this environment.”

BX-626 walked up to K-3NT and forced his blaster point down with her hand. “I’m an assassin droid, slag-foot. I don’t go clomping around everywhere to announce my presence like your sort do.”

B-111 laughed. “I wasn’t going to leave, two-six, I wanted to check something.” 

“If you mean you want to know if I cleaned up your mess, then yeah. I had to move the ship to refinish it, and that involved actually interfacing with the controls. At all. Why in makers name did you not give your second seat its own instruments?”

“Thank you!” K-3NT cried. “That is exactly what I asked!”

“Didn’t need to,” B-111 replied, “I wasn’t planning on having anyone but the Armorer in that seat, and she’s definitely tall enough to see over my head. Besides, I was mostly focused on getting off that rock, not long term functionality.”

“Well, color me impressed then,” BX-626 said, looking the Runner over, “if that’s true, at least. Besides the ugly wiring to your added auxiliaries, everything on here is completely functional. For not thinking of much, you sure did think of everything.”

“So good to hear positivity from you, Two-Six, always so lovely.” B-111 made an exaggerated bow. 

“So are you going to square up your tab now, or after your next job is done?”

B-111 reached into the storage compartment on his jetpack. He took out a handful of coins, which he proffered to BX-626. She looked at the glittering credits and nodded, holding her own hand out and letting B-111 drop them in. 

She tossed the coins and caught them in her other hand. “That will do it, there’s a bit too much here, but I imagine you’ll be back, so I’ll add it as pre-pay to your tab.”

B-111 hopped into the pilots seat and gave a quick salute to BX-626. “That’s nice of you, but you can keep the change. If we ever come back here, we’ll have plenty of credits to go around.”

K-3NT, who had been hoisting himself into the cockpit of The Runner, paused and made a spluttering sound. “‘If’? What do you mean ‘if’? I thought you were on the warriors path, don’t warriors speak in absolutes?”

“Relax about it, Enty! A warrior knows that his path is fraught with danger, and there exists a greater than zero chance he fails in his undertaking. That is why he walks it, to know there is a challenge and purpose! Now get in.”

K-3NT stared at B-111. He turned and stared at BX-626. BX-626 shrugged her shoulders. K-3NT sighed and got into his chair, grumbling throughout the process. BX-626 waved at them as B-111 closed the canopy once more. 

He turned to speak over his shoulder. “Are you buckled, Enty?”

“Yes, I am.” K-3NT sounded huffy. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I am.” He repeated.

“Good!” B-111 said, taking his hands from the controls. “Then taxi us out of atmo-space.”

“What?”

“Were you a shuttle pilot or weren’t you? Come on, take us to space.”

“But I, that is to say, where are we?”

B-111 reached down and tapped at the navicomputer for a moment. “There, jump path programed, now will you please take us out to space?”

“I don’t see why I-”

B-111 turned around again. “Enty… is there a problem?” He’d expected K-3NT to be happy to have the chance to prove his effectuality, happy to have purpose to keep his mind off his present existential crisis. He hadn’t expected this level of resistance.

“I’ve only ever taxied between empty landing pads and capital ships, One-Eleven! I’ve never dealt with… all of that!” He waved his hands generally above his head.

“Enty… ‘all that’ is the most orderly, predictable speeder traffic system this side of Mon Cala.” His words were met with silence. B-111 decided to try a new strategy. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

He sat forwards again, took the controls, and shot the Runner straight up at its maximum lateral traversal rate. “One-Eleven…” K-3NT said behind him. He ignored K-3NT. He halted their vertical climb right before they made contact with an overhead skybridge. He then slammed the throttle to maximum, taking them rocketing straight forwards. He knew, of course, that he was well within his own limits when playing this game. He’d been flying this part of coruscants lower levels for more than a decade, often with far less regard than he had now. But this was enough for K-3NT. 

“One-Eleven! STOP!” B-111 complied instantly, bringing them to a total halt and causing them both to be thrown forwards against their safety harnesses. 

“Alright, Enty, what now?” B-111 waited, and The Runner began to gently move. 

“I will take it from here, thank you very much. You are such a dreadful brute, One-Eleven, and very insensitive.”

“I’m a battle droid.”

“So what? So am I!”

“I thought you were an enforcer droid.”

There was silence as they continued to gracefully lift up through the many levels of the city-planet. When they had left atmospace, B-111 double checked the navicomputer. “We’re ready for the jump,” he said to K-3NT, “Throw the lever at your leisure.”

“Where are you taking us?” K-3NT asked, the tone of suspicion not even concealed in his voice.

“Approximately 150 megameters off the surface of Rothana, where currently there rests a Kuat Drive Yards mobile proving platform. We are going to dock, and deliver the data tape which I, heh, liberated from Sienar Fleet Systems. After we have done this, and been paid handsomely for it, we will then travers away from the proving platform, far enough to be blocked from sight by the planet itself, and then land. We will then infiltrate a top secret KDY skunkwerks and steal their protected IP and abscond.”

B-111 waited for a response. He waited for K-3NT to ignore him and initiate the jump to hyperspace. He waited, it seemed, in vain. He turned to find K-3NT sitting still, his hands hovering just above the controls. “Enty, what are you waiting for?”

K-3NT looked at B-111. “I’m just processing. It is unexpected to me that you have even a semblance of a plan.”

“I’ve been executing a plan this whole time! Being marooned on that moon, needing to slap The Runner together, finding you, these were slight detours to that plan, but we are finally now back on that plan.”

“Huh,” was all K-3NT said to this. He reached past B-111 and cranked the jump lever. The Runner shuddered and jumped into hyperspace.

It was a long jump, during which B-111 stayed ready for K-3NT to ask questions. But K-3NT remained silent. Hours passed. B-111 became worried. Why was K-3NT not saying anything? Was he facing his emancipation purely within his own mind? B-111 wondered, dimly, if he had pushed too far and in the wrong direction earlier. But he held to his position, K-3NT would have to ask him for help to get it.

When they dropped back out of hyperspace, the thought of K-3NTs silence fled B-111s mind. It was time for action, time for focus. 

To the ships starboard loomed Rothana, imposing and orange. It almost looked like geonosis from this angle. Floating right in front of them was the proving platform. A large orbital facility that Kuat Drive Yards used to test their propulsion systems in zero gravity. 

B-111 took the controls and taxied them cautiously towards the platform. He pressed a button on the instrument cluster, “Proving platform, this is datahound, inbound with a delivery.”

“What are you doing?” Asked K-3NT, finally breaking his silence.

“What do you think, Enty? They aren’t just going to let us land. I previously arranged all this, datahound is my codename for this operation.”

“Operation? One-Eleven, we’re data thieves, not special agents.”

“Enty, a warrior does not allow his enemies to assign him his titles, that is the path.”

K-3NT was not allowed to retort, as the reply came over the comlink at that moment. “Datahound… you’re late, can you please verify you have not been compromised?”

“Oh, wonderful!”

“Quiet, Enty!” B-111 pressed the comlink button once more. “The item was, shall we say, stuck in shipping longer than I expected, and a bit harder to find.”

“We don’t want excuses, verify your safe code, dadahound.”

K-3NT leaned forwards, putting his head right next to B-111s, “what is the safe code? Should I have known the safe code? I think I should have.”

“Shh,” B-111 said, waving K-3NT back. He turned back to the instrument cluster. “Mon Cala; thirteen; halogen; seven; deep water; forty nine; cast ingot; two; harvest field; nine; vacuum. Confirm?”

B-111 waited for what seemed a tad longer than strictly necessary before, “confirm. Proceed to hangar bay.”

“Enty, when I said ‘let me do the talking’ I really meant it. I’ve been planning this operation for almost a year; I have contingencies, I have contingencies for contingencies; so if you don’t quite know what is happening, follow my lead.”

“I would have appreciated being brought up to speed, One-Eleven.”

B-111 was surprised to hear K-3NTs tone wasn’t sulky, just matter-of-fact. Also, he was stung by the correctness of this statement. “I am sorry Enty, I… hadn’t thought about any of that. I will fully brief you in the future.”

“Thank you,” said K-3NT, “Now let me get us landed. You’ll probably make them even more on edge if you land like a ‘slagfoot’ as usual.”

B-111 shrugged, sitting back in his seat. “Suit yourself, Enty.”

[melanie-ohara]

Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful

Whumpuary2024, Day 1 - Prompt: Snow

In which everyone's favourite spiky space girlfriend has a bad time in the snow

AO3 here

It was supposed to be a simple supply run. No need to trouble the Tempest while they were on shore leave, just take a shuttle from the bay and run it down to Voeld, drop off the supplies to the angaran scouts, and be back before Kallo's pre-flight checks. Easy.

The angara weren't answering her hails. 

"This is Initiative supply shuttle VN-212, please respond," Vetra repeated. Static filled the shuttle's cabin as she waited for a response. She could see their vehicle on the scope, parked at the rendezvous as expected, comm. receiver raised. The silence was unnerving. The old Vetra would have immediately expected a trap and hit the thrusters to clear out of the system without looking back, but now she was worried about the Resistance scouts - if they'd lost power out here, the temperature would kill them long before any help could arrive. They might already be dead. She should leave, but if Ryder was with her she'd insist on going down to check.

"Damn you, Sara," Vetra cursed as she brought the nose of the shuttle about. "VN-212, coming in for a landing," she said, and considered warning them that she was armed. If it was a trap though, she wanted them thinking she didn't suspect anything. There was a prickle in the back of her scalp the whole time the shuttle descended that insisted she should just leave, and that this was a bad idea, and that her contacts were already dead, and that she was walking into a trap. Vetra ignored all of her suspicions. There was one small angaran transport, which could seat - at most - four potential attackers, and she was more than capable of putting down four targets. The insulation on the transport's hull made it impossible to scan for lifeforms inside, but there was nothing in a ten mile radius around the rendezvous point. At that range, the only weapon that even had a chance of hitting her was a kett sniper rifle, and her shields would hold long enough to get back to the shuttle. Unless they're a really good shot, she thought to herself, but pushed the thought out of her mind as the shuttle settled neatly on the snow. 

Vetra buckled her helmet on and hit the door release, and even through the layers of hardsuit insulation she felt the sting of the freezing air. It hit the filters on her suit hard and she could taste the ice in it when she breated in, but it still beat the stale recycled air of the Nexus. It wasn't snowing at least, but it was getting dark as the sun set behind her. The late evening would give her an advantage: she was approaching the transport out of the sun, and the light bouncing off the snow would make her harder to target. 

The total silence was loud in Vetra's ears. The only thing her suit microphone was picking up was the crunch of her boots on the snow and the rattling of her breath inside the helmet. The shuttle idling behind her on reserve power barely registered, and a quick scan with her omni-tool revealed the transport ahead of her was powered down and cold, like it had been sitting there for hours. She paused. The temperature guage on her HUD read -52.2 degrees centigrade, and unless angaran hardsuits were significantly superior to their Nexus equivalants, all she would find inside would be four frozen angara, huddled together around a long-extinguished heat lamp. She didn't need to see that.

Vetra turned around, and managed one step back towards the shuttle when the transport detonated. The force was staggering and the sonic shock blew out her helmet speakers for a moment, leaving her ears ringing as she tumbled into the snow. She forced herself back to her feet as fast as she could, yanking her rifle out of the magnetic socket so fast she nearly caught her fingers in the release mechanism. Neither the targeting computer in her HUD or built into the gun could find a threat, but she dropped to one knee and waited for her shields to buckle under fire anyway.

The transport had to have been rigged. Crates of explosives in the crew compartment. Only Vetra had turned away before it blew up, which meant it wasn't on a proximity trigger and that someone was watching. She got to her feet. There was no point hanging around here waiting for the kett or the Roekarr or Outlaws to pop their ugly heads out of the snow, and she wasn't letting them take the supplies they had set up this ambush for. Vetra started back towards the shuttle, keeping her rifle steady in her shoulder as she scanned around for the would-be thieves. 

And then her omni-tool pinged to warn her of an incoming explosive payload. A big one. Someone had launched a Spirits-damned missile at her shuttle, and there was no way she could get in and power it up in time to evade it. 

"Fuck you," Vetra cursed, and then started running. Her shuttle exploded with three or four times the force of the transport, and even though she'd had a head start this time it still launched her off her feet and tossed her into a snowdrift like a ragdoll. Her hardsuit complained about the hard landing, but nothing broke, and Vetra rolled onto her back and clawed powdered snow off the visor of her helmet. The wreckage of the shuttle burned hot enough to raise the temperature to a more survivable level, but all of the long range comms equipment had been inside. Along with the supplies. Whoever was out there watching had just destroyed the only valuables for hundreds of miles rather than let her back onboard. Vetra understood a scorched earth response, but if they had been banking on their bomb killing her with no backup plan they clearly weren't good at thievery. Maybe when she hunted them down she'd teach them a thing or two before she gave them to Kesh and Kandros to deal with. 

Her HUD told her the missile wasn't a nuclear or a resonant warp warhead, so it was safe to approach the shuttle. She wondered, as she watched the flames start to flicker out, why nobody was shooting at her - and then realised with an appropriately cold flood of dread that she was stranded in punishingly freezling temperatures with no hope of rescue. Eventually the Nexus would send a team out to look for her, but by the time she was missed… Bile rose in her throat and she forced it back down. Sara would insist on coming. Whoever had trapped her here would ambush her too. Dimly, Vetra noticed an alert pulsing on her HUD that told her she was hyperventilating. She ignored it and surrendered to the panic until her legs started to wobble and she had to choose between sitting down and falling. Vetra dropped to her knees first, and then leaned forwards until she was curled into a ball with her visor pressed into the snow until she couldn't see the wreck of the shuttle, and turned off her HUD so she couldn't see the insistent low temperature warning. Her brain pounded in her skull. What would Ryder do without her? Or Drack? What would Syd - don't think about Syd. Even at the head-swimming height of panic, Vetra refused. Instead, she forced herself to think about breathing. It was too fast now, and shallow and ragged. Air came into her lungs in gulps, but she needed more. 

In. Out. 

Again. Slower. 

In. Out. 

In.

Out. 

Finally, the panic abated. Vetra's limbs were stiff and cold, but she made them unfurl and slowly straightened her back until she was sitting up again, feeling drained and shaky, but stable enough to stand. Between getting to her feet and picking up her rifle, she ran through all the procedures from the Initiative cold weather survival manual and confirmed none of them could help her out here. No shelter she could build from the wreckage or from compacting the snow would keep out the cold, especially when the wind picked up or a blizzard set in. All she could do now was try and stop the rescue team flying into a trap, and the only chance she had at that was to walk as far as she could and hope the tracking chip in her armour had enough power to ping the Tempest when it came in range. Her odds weren't good. She started to walk.

The cold was brutal. As night set in the temperature dropped even further, registering 62 degrees below freezing before Vetra turned off the system to save power. After half an hour, she couldn't feel her fingers. The medigel dispensors would prevent frostbite setting in, but wouldn't keep her warm - that was down to the life support system, which circulated heated gel through conduits under the armour plate and was quickly running out of power. It was hard work, stripping her rifle while walking, but she needed the extra power cell. She'd carried it for years, but when parts slipped through her aching, nerve-less fingers she let them fall into the snow and stay there. 

By the time Vetra had walked what she estimated to be about ten miles, she didn't feel anything any more. It wasn't just her fingers and feet now, the numbness extended up her arms and legs and into one shoulder. She wasn't even sure she was still holding her rifle, but she didn't bother looking to find out. It was a useless lump of polymer and metal now, not even long enough to lean on for support when her legs started to give out and she dropped into the snow. Four times, now, she thought to herself. Ryder would call her clumsy as she helped her back to her feet and slapped a heat pack onto the back of her neck. Vetra wanted to wish she was there with her, but that would mean subjecting her to these temperatures and right now she wouldn't do that to the kett.

The kett.

Why blow up the shuttle with all of those supplies inside when they were so valuable to the Resistance? She rolled over onto her back in the snow, and watched something dark and ugly carve through Voeld's aurora as it circled overhead. Liam had shown them all a vid once, where big black birds hovered over a corpse in the desert. 

Because the supplies weren't what they were after. They were after her. 

Idly, she wondered if it was her, Vetra Nyx, the kett had laid the trap for, or if they just needed more Miky Way subjects. Even with the Archon dead, they knew there were more exaltation facilities that Apex hadn't found. The kett shuttle came into view properly now, shiny bug-green hull reflecting the light of the aurora overhead as it settled down. 

Vetra hadn't been with Ryder when she rescued the Moshae, over a year ago, but she had seen the footage from her helmet cam, and it scared her so much that even death in the snow seemed preferable now. But her legs would no longer obey her. She could crawl, but she wouldn't get far. Her gun was long gone. 

"Record," Vetra croaked. She hadn't realised just how dry her throat was until she tried to speak, but she had to say it again before the VI understood her. She could hear footsteps approaching in the snow, less than fifty paces away. Setting her jaw, she unlatched the helmet clasps with fingers that wouldn't even bend any more and struggled to get the thing off her head. The cold lashed at her like a living thing with talons, and she could feel her watering eyes blurring as her unshed tears froze in place. 

Twenty paces.

Vetra hoped it was dark enough that the approaching kett soldiers wouldn't be able to make out what she was doing as she scraped at the snow with her elbow and then forced the helmet into the gap, trying to tilt it so the camera would be able to pick up the shuttle as it left. 

She didn't feel their bony hands wrap around her arms until they were dragging her away. Vetra kicked up snow as they moved her so they wouldn't see the helmet sticking out of the ground, but they were focused on getting back to their ship before the cold started to cut at them too. Briefly, Vetra felt a touch of relief that at least she was going inside before the freezing blackness overtook her and she went limp in her captors' arms.

[atinylittlepain]

My morning routine:

Alarm goes off at 5:15. Get up, go downstairs, feed the cats so i can get ready without beasts underfoot. Back upstairs, drink a glass of water, get a quick shower. Get dressed, grab a Clif bar, and make a cup of tea in my travel mug. Out the door at 5:55, park in the shuttle lot, catch the 6:10 shuttle to the hospital. Clock in around 6:25/6:30 and get my day started!

okay but the real question, what's your favorite clif bar flavor?

[draagu]

yello! back from yet another mini outer wilds exploration for the first time in about a week

for the shorter time I played today I actually did discover quite a bit

started by visiting gabbro and talking about their quantum poem thingy, cool notes on that!

took a second exploration to the gravity cannon surrounding giants deep and went through the crack in the window! unfortunately was not bright enough to realize the place had no gravity and parked my ship on the ledge outside the window so consequentially my ship entered giants deeps orbit

one quick meditation later and I decided to go back to brittle hollow to the hanging city! mostly went to the icy place (that is not where the dome was, is it the north pole?)

a lot of cool stuff on the quantum moon and the eye there! I realize now the nomai were following the eyes signal and reached this galaxy I believe, and the cannon at the start was trying to go after it too, maybe the eyes location is related to the changing direction of the cannon every loop? i unno

now I feel like I too might want to try and find the eye, baby steps though

also I now know you need to land on the south pole of the quantum moon! or I believe so, would've been useful information to know before I started poking at it haha

trying to figure out what the big black hole uh thing (the one with the switch to go up and down) is and how to get to it

another loop later I noticed the random thing my ship was able to lock onto, which was the deep space signal, and found the satellite! not sure what or if I could do anything with it, but I got an achievement for rendering it unusable or something lol

took a quick trip the interloper and the frozen shuttle and actually read the mini log there, poor nomai

then accidentally stumbled across the white hole station? which I? never realized was there? at first I thought brittles hollow had somehow completely collapsed at the beginning of the cycle but saw riebacks signal still so we all good, neat little station it had there!

I realized after I meditated again that I probably should have messed around a bit there because my curiosity is set to what happens if I fly into the white hole but oh well

my main goals right now are to find the way into the dome on brittles hollow, investigate the quantum knowledge tower, and also gather the courage to go back to dark bramble

oh! that reminds me I read on a wall that the fish skeleton on the ember twin relates to finding a way to evade the angler fish? I know where the skeleton is I just didn't get there fast enough last time, so another thing to look at!