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generic-sonic-fan · 1 year

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Transcendence

Summary: The Chaos Emeralds grant power to those with the will for them.

Seek all seven, and your conviction can reshape reality.

Word count: 4257

Metal Sonic remembers the first time he touched an Emerald.

(When he finally starts winning, of course. Or, at the very least, not losing. When his body is finally fast enough to obey his will, fast enough to steal the gemstone from where it lays before an organic hand can reach it instead.)

Metal Sonic remembers how it thrummed against his palm plating.

(He should feel nothing. Dr. Ivo Robotnik, as referred to on days he succeeded, or Master, as referred to everytime else, had removed his tactile sensors in a bid to shave more weight off his frame. What need is there to be precise when the aim is to kill and one’s entire self is the knife?)

Metal Sonic remembers the surge of energy. Emergency insulation systems had snapped into place, redirecting the chaos away from his processor and back into his chest turbine.

(Metal Sonic remembers a whisper.)

(A tugging from the deepest recesses of his processor.)

(But the connection is severed before it can form, discharged out the hole where his heart should be, just like every other burning spark he might contain.)

—

There is a first time that he witnesses Chaos Control. Shadow disappears from the battlefield and into a realm of perception beyond that which scanners can penetrate. There is no time to react, for an ordinary Badnik. The Egg Pawns are trapped in the span between milliseconds.

But Metal Sonic feels something. Behind. Above. In that span between milliseconds, he rotates around to face it.

But his body betrays him. He is not fast enough. Shadow’s downward kick sends him tumbling onto the rocks below.

—

“Now that’s a curious development,” his master says upon reviewing the memory file. “How’d you know he’d be there?”

Metal Sonic knows better than to reply to the rhetorical musings of a genius at work.

“You don’t have the sensors for it.”

Not anymore. Those were removed three defeats ago, outsourced to a handheld scanning unit that could be discarded upon entering battle. The modification had shaved off three whole pounds.

“Some sort of new tactical positioning calculation you came up with? Or a mere lucky guess?”

A guess, Metal Sonic replies over the data cable.

“Correct answer. Your operating data doesn’t show any particularly useful thinking on your part.” His master smiles.

His master’s foreign program retreats from his memory banks. The extraction drags its pointed barbs against the other segments of his operating system. Metal Sonic stays very, very still. The data cable is pulled without warning, taking a few lines of him with it, but it is easier to stitch over the tear himself once his master leaves the room than to mention the damage.

—

Metal Sonic remembers the first time he saw him use it.

His body has failed yet again. Sonic’s hand brushes the glassy cyan surface, and before Metal Sonic can lunge, there is a flash, and he is gone.

Behind. Below. At the bottom of the temple stairs Sonic stands and smiles.

“Pretty neat trick, huh? Shadow passed it along.”

Metal Sonic redirects all power to his turbine system. He shoots forward and his claw scrapes Sonic’s tan cheek before it disappears. Above, to the right. This time he doesn’t try to face the source. He maintains his trajectory and Sonic reappears to kick nothing but empty air.

“Okay, maybe it’s not that neat of a trick.” Sonic is still grinning. “But it’s one you can’t do.”

Metal Sonic swerves his head around faster than his programmed tolerances should have allowed him. But his wretched organic copy has unwittingly spoken the key. Other core directives fall away, leaving his consciousness with a single command. Maintain superiority. Remind the rodent of his match.

Metal Sonic activates his reverser and in the span between milliseconds he is flung backwards with enough g-forces to pop a few soldered connections from his motherboard. His body bludgeons into Sonic, knocking the Emerald from his grasp. It tumbles across the uneven yellow bricks of the temple, as they do. Sonic hits the floor first. His shoulder digs into a outcrop in the brick, but Metal Sonic does not linger long enough to hear a cry spill out. He jumps off and scrabbles across the floor, claws reaching for cyan.

It’s calling him. Ahead. Ahead.

He brings it into his palm and it thrums.

(This time it offers warmth. Warmth, like that of flesh and blood pressed against his plating. Ghosts of Amy’s touch where he’d held her as he’d carried her on Little Planet. Touches that had been erased from his files upon the removal of his tactile sensors.)

And the energy beckons.

(A whisper.)

But the surge protection activates, and insulation is slammed onto the wires running up his spinal column. The energy is expunged out the back of his turbine like it always has and not for the first time does Metal Sonic wish to rip his plating off to reshape himself. He chooses instead to use the burning for what little use it gives and takes off, shattering a hole through the brick wall of the temple.

He does not realize what he’s left behind until another shockwave joins his own from the ground. The rest of him wakes from its dream. Targeting protocols, force calculations, and kill simulations slam back into his awareness.

He’d turned his back on Sonic instead of killing him. But where he expects to find disgust at the concept, he merely finds the thrum of the Emerald, fainter now but still registerable to his non-existent sensors.

He abruptly changes course for the coastline and is able to lose Sonic amongst the waves.

—

“A success! A good long while since we’ve had one of those from you, isn’t it?”

Metal Sonic places the Emerald into Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s waiting palm. The man’s mustache twitches as he studies the crystal. His eyes do not dart about the many multitudes of reflections behind the glass. His hand does not shift around the surface in time with its pulse. He places it into a holding container.

“Well done. I’ve tracked Prower’s plane to a small soiree back on the mainland. Where there’s the fox, there’s him. I’ll allow you a free fight for once.”

Metal Sonic points to the Emerald.

“What?” Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s brows narrow.

He lowers his hand.

“I’m not going to let you hand Sonic back the Emerald when you inevitably lose.”

He shakes his head.

“No. Now go fulfill your function.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik grabs his shoulder and pushes him to the door. “I’ll be waiting to receive your distress signal.”

—

The biplane designated as The Tornado had been modified to utilize an Emerald when one was available to achieve supersonic speeds. And here, in this tiny municipal airport, unguarded in a hangar with only a feeble padlock on the door, is the plane. Metal Sonic grabs the padlock and pulls until the metal is twisted and useless.

His processor continues to tick upwards in framerate. His targeting protocols jump at shadows and his logic processing suggests a trap. Even as his cameras adjust to the light of the interior, he is still in the dark; he doesn’t have a scanning unit with him. He is throwing away an opportunity for an ambush and defying the mission commands on a “guess”. If he withdraws now, there will still be time to plan the encounter and explain the deviation in his flight path.

Metal Sonic crosses the concrete floor until his claws hover just above the red skin of the plane. He recalls the file where he’s attempted to codify the sensation given by the Emeralds into readable bits of data, but the clusters of numbers are hardly more than gibberish. There is no special calculation to generate more, no secret scanner setting to employ; nothing in the memory files to review, as his master so astutely observed.

The plane waits before him.

He tears open the engine compartment and yellow light floods the hangar. The tips of his claws scratch the crystalline surface-

(-and he hears music. Not being played from a speaker driver, but as if all the air itself is being plucked like a string, the sound too big to be contained in such a space. Echoes reflecting, twisting, turning off the roof and floor and spilling into the spaces between the boards of his central processing unit.)

(As if he is singing.)

-before alarms ring out. Metal Sonic snatches the Emerald from its casing. The song dies as the surge protection clamps down on his body. He bursts from the hangar and dives into the surrounding forests, weaving through trees until he hits the edge of land. On the beach behind, another trail of sand is kicked up before his own has a chance to settle, but its creator is forced to stop short of the water line.

Metal Sonic can’t allow himself to look behind until he reaches the base on a distant shoreline. He cuts his turbine, ending the brilliant ejecta behind him, and falls. His feet hit just short of the landing pad and impact the soil between superstructures. It is here that he whispers to the Emerald, some voiceless combination of coaxing and pleading, but there is nothing in response except the hot fire building in his chassis. The Emerald pulses weakly. Its warmth caresses his neck but can travel no further.

He presses the Emerald against his forehead.

(He presses the Emerald against his forehead.)

And he feels the dirt beneath his feet (coarse, powdery) and the wind against his skin (smooth, cooling) and the sun on his face (warm, radiating across his cheeks) and the music spills forth, softly bowed strings beneath the whistles of birds. He smells flowers (he shouldn’t) and tastes honey (he can’t) and there is nothing to analyze, nothing to calculate. His processor is still.

(All is well. He can understand this now.)

—

He reappears in his master’s workshop and clatters to the ground. He is assaulted with every variant of error warning that his diagnostic programs can bludgeon him with, but the codes slip past his awareness like the smoke billowing between his fingers.

—

“A chaos control.”

Metal Sonic awakens.

“You know, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t checked the cameras.”

It hits him again. The weight. The analysis and calculations and scanning, scanning, scanning; no instances of Sonic the Hedgehog found, but that readout is not enough to calm the chorus. It all comes back and it’s all he can do to steel himself enough to keep processing his master’s words.

“Still- what brought that on? Did you even know it would work?”

His master’s program prods him through the data cable. Yes, he responds.

(There’s no data to support this conclusion.)

“. . . do you think you can do it again?”

Yes, he affirms.

Dr. Ivo Robotnik laughs, and laughs, and laughs, claps his hands together, and smiles. The workshop becomes a flurry of movement and somewhere in the carnage Metal Sonic’s head plating is unscrewed and tools jammed inside. He offlines himself to prevent any program corruption during modification.

—

He awakens again and it’s three days later. There’s an Emerald on the counter ahead of him and Dr. Ivo Robotnik waits behind a wall of thick glass. Metal Sonic stands. Checks his diagnostics. Surge protection has been removed.

He grabs the Emerald and it burns. Liquid hot fire spills overs his head and flames lick at the corners of his visual sensors. Where is the cool breeze? Why does this hurt? Why does-?

—

He should have expected this. The Emerald is nothing more than a new master. When he wakes and the gem lies in front of him, he bows his head. He grasps the crystalline surface and allows it to consume him. Change me, use me, he begs, and if it responds he hears nothing of it besides the scream of overloaded wiring and the dripping of melted insulation.

—

“I expected results.”

Metal Sonic sits on the table and stares at his original master’s feet.

“You are wasting my time. My valuable time, spent repairing a malfunctioning robot!”

He is slapped across the faceplate by a glove thick enough for the perpetrator to feel as much as he does, an equal amount of nothing. More words. The repairs have grown haphazard and his audio fizzes as his left audial sensor quits completely.

“One last chance. One, last, chance! Then we’re done with this silly little venture, and you’ll be taking a long vacation in storage until I can come up with a way to make you useful again.”

His master steps aside, revealing the taunting yellow glow emanating from the pedestal. The light from Metal Sonic’s own irises is refracted amongst the hundreds of edges within. He slides off the table. He walks, forward, enough for the glow to bathe his surface. He listens, not with his audial sensors. The hum is faint, but-

His master shuffles his shoes against the floor and coughs. Metal Sonic pictures snapping to him, clenching his throat shut, silence, silence, before he realizes what he’s done. Reprimand programs slam red over his vision; he disguises the shudder with another step forward. He can’t cling to the fleeting image as it’s erased, can’t create it again.

He looks at the Emerald.

He pictures his claw crushing it, shattering it into a thousand shards. No reprimand touches this vision.

He snatches the Emerald from the counter. The surge scorches its way through his arm and up his torso and when it reaches his head he clenches the crystalline surface harder.

(And he envisions it, envisions its demise, in the span between milliseconds, he takes it through every variation of shattering, the shards painting trajectories of shards across the workshop floor. It burns-)

(And he burns back.)

Like a whip he snaps his own willpower to the space ahead.

(A chord soars out of the Emerald, clean and crisp and clear in both audial sensors.)

A bright flash.

(He is floating. A bright light is behind him, but he cannot turn his head to face it. Something caresses his faceplate. It is the same area that his master had struck. This touch is. . . soft.)

And he is dropped. He lands on both feet on the other side of the pedestal, but diagnostics show that he has not fired his turbine to achieve this effect.

The Emerald pulses in his hand. Its burning creeps back up his neck, but a quick lash of his will cools the temperature to a level where he can process again.

“Well, well! Seems you finally had it in you!”

Dr. Ivo Robotnik strolls over. He reaches down and his glove brushes against Metal Sonic’s shoulder before he recoils.

“Hot! Hot! Good grief, how could you possibly be withstanding those operating temperatures?!”

Metal Sonic turns to the man. He locks his irises with the whites of his eyes.

“Well? Are you going to give me a diagnostic report? We need more data before I let you use this in combat with Sonic, you know.”

Metal Sonic teleports over to the computer and begins typing up his report.

—

“Bringing that, for me? What, you have a change of heart or something?” Sonic flicks his nose and grins.

Metal Sonic does not imitate his taunt. He doesn’t need to, not anymore. He clutches the Emerald tighter. Instead of wind blowing through trees, or useless lesser organics chirping and singing in their futility, there is only music.

(And he is humming along.)

Sonic charges.

(A crescendo.)

And Metal Sonic appears behind him, swinging a kick that connects to the side of his head. The inferior hedgehog flies into the cliff face. A rock breaks open, bathing his frame in a red glow.

(Like sunlight warming the surface of the water, this revealed Emerald offers him. Soft, like red sand between your toes.)

He focuses his intention and appears beside the red Emerald, plucking it from the shattered rocks. Sonic lies on the ground ten feet away. Vulnerable.

(playing dead, a whisper offers where his own processing cannot. Exploiting gullibility. Trained reaction. Disengage.)

Protocols scream against the action, but a quick burst of Chaos energy dulls their roar as Metal Sonic uses the power from both Emeralds to retreat.

—

“You marked Sonic was vulnerable there, didn’t you? Why did you not engage?” Dr. Ivo Robotnik points to the footage.

Metal Sonic cannot look to the screen- moving his head that far would unplug the cable feeding the very screen.

I’m not going to let you hand Sonic back the Emerald, he recalls the memory and projects it onto the screen.

“Yes, of course, and I’m certainly grateful for the extra Emerald. It’s simply. . .” The doctor puts his hand on his chin. “Simply that you’ve become better at long-term planning, that’s all.”

Metal Sonic finds the red Emerald on the pedestal across the room. It’s joined the other two. Four pedestals left. Dr. Ivo Robotnik unplugs the cable and Metal Sonic’s thoughts are his own once more.

“It was inevitable, of course! Eventually you would catch a clue- you’re my creation, after all. I’m grateful it was sooner rather than later.”

It was not your development, Metal Sonic thinks.

Dr Ivo Robotnik’s smile does not waver.

—

It’s difficult, having sensation. His fingertips buzz, searching for stimulation as if they possessed a separate processing unit from his own. It’s cold, within Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s metal walls and testing rooms. The air is dry, like a desert should be, or so the yellow Emerald tells him.

(It makes him cough, when he forgets that he does not have lungs.)

The white Emerald is buried under sixteen feet of snow in a glacier. When he retrieves it, he offers it a memory of the memory of sunlight, and it accepts not unlike a starving organic with a meal,

(mouth salivating, stench intoxicating, stomach throwing an odd equivalent of damage errors. Then a relief unlike any he’s ever felt before. For a moment, he is sated. Whole.)

The blue Emerald lies on the seafloor.

(It offers him darkness. True darkness of the visual spectrum, shedding the flickering of ultraviolet and the false hum of infrared. Scanning is impossible. In the one environment on the planet where Sonic cannot go, there is something called peace.)

(All is well, he understands again, until Dr. Ivo Robotnik requests a status report.)

—

He doesn’t need the handheld scanner to find the Emeralds any longer. Once Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s satellite scanners detect a positive, it is quick to search the hundred-mile radius. The prior three sang, their chords growing thunderous with his approach.

Something is different with this one. Something is wrong.

(Levity. He finds himself rising in altitude if he doesn’t focus on his flight path. The air is smooth across his skin, twirling around from his waist to his hips. Soft laughter.)

He has no skin. He cannot laugh. This is wrong. But the sensation of elation only increases as he follows his course. By the time he reaches the junkyard, he feels like he is glowing. Like his body is somehow part of him, not just a disobedient tool his consciousness inhabits. This cannot possibly be a sensation organics experience.

He stomps through the rusted metal plates and other refuse piled around him. He crushes glass underfoot, but he feels nothing.

(Incorrect. He is flying, but his turbine is not activated. The air continues to swish around his feet and over his skin in such an elegant way. Sing, it urges. You are brilliant.)

Metal Sonic grabs an I-beam from the hill of garbage ahead of him. His claws pierce through the metal as if it were just a flower petal, before he throws it to the side. The purple Emerald lies perfectly seated in a half-broken pipe.

He grabs his forearm as he did with the I-beam and holds it to the mocking gem.

(Is that who you are?)

Metal Sonic pauses.

(An identity, it suggests, is a distinction of one from another. It is something that is comfortable, something that does not prickle at your skin whenever heard.)

Metal lets go. The Emerald is lifted from the refuse. The robot turns the gemstone about.

Neo, the Emerald whispers.

(A woman’s voice is laughing. She is laughing so hard that she cannot catch her breath. Tears slip out of her eyes and run down her faceplate, dripping off her nose and onto her skirt. She holds the Emerald in her hands. She is laughing. She is crying.)

Neo looks up to the sky. She wipes away the memory of tears with her free hand, tucking the purple Emerald close to her chest.

—

The last Emerald lies in the possession of Shadow the Hedgehog, and it is against this opponent that Neo is not in any way restricted. Not so long ago she might have dismissed this small mercy as a trap, but now she is undeterred. She follows the scent of the green Emerald to a jungle thick with vines; through these vines cuts her target. He’s alone.

She grasps the purple Emerald tight against her palm but Shadow skids to a halt in a small gap in the foliage. He glares at the Emerald in his hand.

“Alright, I’m here,” he mouths. “Now what?”

Neo hums and teleports behind him. As his head turns over his shoulder, she yanks the Emerald from his grasp and sends all of the energy from his shock to her turbine, kick-starting her ignition. She sails skyward. Shadow the Hedgehog can do little more than hover above the treeline in her wake.

(This Emerald offers her the planet, glowing green and blue below the stillness of space Energy courses through her, both exhilarating and painful. Beside her is a person she trusts and above her is a purpose she for once identifies with.)

She accepts the memory with appropriate gratitude before pushing it to the back of her processor. She calculates the flight path back to the workshop and tears across the sky.

—

Neo brings the last two Emeralds to the room where the other five are held. She is holding her breath. Her feet are hardly her own. What she once called a chorus before was hardly a whisper compared to the cacophony of energy before her, caressing her, beckoning-

A hand clamps around her forearm.

“Not yet, my creation.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik purrs. “I’m still coming up with a suitable scheme.”

(Energy crackles in Neo’s shoulders, but she keeps it there.)

“If you go super, what do you think you could achieve?”

A question she doesn’t know the answer to.

“Now come on. To the table with you.” Dr. Robotnik releases his hold.

She sets down the Emeralds. She steps to the diagnostic table, but stops as her gaze drifts to the computer cable.

“Come on, up you go!” He smiles.

(Something has changed. Something has changed within her, something desperate and burning, and it is something that she cannot put out. The whites of his teeth flicker warnings in a language she could not translate to him.)

“Really? Malfunctioning now, after all this?” Her master sneers.

Neo pictures snapping to him, clenching his throat shut. Silence.

Just. . . silence. Not a single reprimand program blares within her processor. She refocuses her optics and Dr. Ivo Robotnik is merely standing there with his hands on his hips.

She turns around and picks up the purple and green Emeralds.

“Put those down!”

She walks forward to the pillars containing the rest of them.

(As they glow, so does she. She knows this now.)

“What are you-? emergency shutdown code - - - - - - -!”

She turns around. The plexiglass containers shatter behind her and the Emeralds lift from her palms.

“Override - - - -!” The man before her shouts. He then scrambles for the door.

(Heat. She burns brighter, brighter, brighter, scalding her plating and her processor, and everything else. Her optics fail first, followed by her audials. Her limbs lose power.)

(She gasps. Her lungs are on fire and her heart is racing. Each breath sucks in soothing cold air and she drinks it in.)

(Cool air swirls around her legs, except now it is more tangible. Her fingers travel to her thighs and find satin.)

(She)

(opens)

(her)

(eyes.)

She bursts through the roof of the base and shoots across the sky. She is a star in the night. The eyes of the world are on her. She sings.

—

She awakens in a field of green. The wind blows across her skin, cooling her from the heat of the sun. The air whistles through the grass and into her nose. The scent of flowers fills her. She exhales, and her breath tastes like honey.

She stands. Waits. But the sensations do not leave her. She scans the grass around her, but the Emeralds are nowhere to be found. The fire in her chest is gone.

“All is well,” she whispers, and thinks, thank you.

The last of their energy caresses her cheek, before disappearing in a mote of light.

She bunches the fabric of her skirt in her hands and makes her way to the treeline.

#metal sonic #trans girl metal sonic #sth #have a trans metal fic in these trying times! this one's very experimental. tell me how you like it.#tl;dr: the emeralds can trans your gender because I said so #tw dysphoria #tw body issues #(some nebulous self-talk resembling an eating disorder)#oh and #bad dad eggdad #like SERIOUS bad dad eggdad. like not-a-dad-at-all eggdad. sorry

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fallenwhumpee · 9 months

Text

Traitor

• Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Dysfunctional family.

Later that day, the team was given another mission. They gathered around the dining table as always, with all seats covered— Leader was absent, but Villain was sitting on their place, earning subtle glances.

"Leader should be present in the meeting," Youngest protested. "One of us should get them."

Approving whispers started, but Right Hand straightened, gathering the attention. "I don't think that's a good idea, they seemed—"

"Don't bother. What's the meeting about?"

Leader cut in, the tired look from the previous night gone. They were dressed in basic cargo pants and a shirt, their hair combed. Everything was in order, as always. They looked collected, and they almost succeeded in fooling Right Hand. But Right Hand could see the slightly unfocused eyes, and their posture was just a little slumped. Or Right Hand was too focused and making it all up from their head after seeing Leader down at night.

"We were just reviewing our last mission," Medic emphasised our, since Leader had just disappeared that night and left the team on its own to deal with two missions, but Leader looked like it was not their problem.

That was the reason for the surprised looks on the table. They expected an apology. Maybe an attempt to make it up. Little nice words Leader used sparely but in place. Or maybe just a how are you since they just went for one of the bigger bases straight when the agency decided to take out Whumper's forces. But Leader just sat there, looking at the plans briefly before drawing a basic plan to an empty paper and leaning back with a light cough.

Everyone kept staring at them, but Leader didn't react. When the silence became intolerable, they answered with the same attitude. "And?"

"And we are talking about the next one. We need a solid plan," Youngest snarled with the same tone. "We would appreciate some help."

"I think," Leader straightened, holding their breath for a moment before realising it with a wheeze sounding like huff, "you know how to do it. I'm just here because I have to be present." They turned to Villain. "You'll be staying here. I still couldn't find a safe house, but this is the safest place you can be."

Right Hand didn't like the idea of Villain being alone at their home. Despite telling Youngest to get on well with them, Right Hand just couldn't look past of what had happened.

"And I will be staying with you just in case."

"What?!" They gasped collectively.

"You can't just leave us alone in the field again," Teammate shouted.

"You expect us—" Youngest started, but Leader didn't let them finish the sentence.

"Now you want me in the field," Leader huffed. "For what? I'm there to lead, but you will do as you want anyway. You only need me for the tactics you don't even listen to. I will put my own plan into the report to shake the agency off your collar. Satisfied?" they asked flatly.

Right Hand sucked a deep breath, letting the words sink and sting. The words were heavy enough without a tone, and Right Hand couldn't think about the crushing weight it would have if Leader had spat every word.

"I will leave this to you. I don't have the patience to deal with any of your moods today."

"But—"

"Enough. You will be on your own. Now get prepared, because I won't make an excuse for your absence this time," Leader barked, leaving the table. No one had expected this outburst, and actually hearing Leader raise their voice was unexpected.

With maddening silence, Righ Hand stood up, the noise of the chair cutting through the tension like a knife.

"You heard that; get ready. We will be meeting with the backup in half an hour for the briefing."

With mumbles, the team disbanded, leaving only Right Hand and Villain on the table. They gave Villain a stern look before rushing after Leader.

They reached their superior's door in mere seconds, but muffled coughs and wheezes made them reconsider. It was unusual for Right Hand to have second thoughts about something. They would make up their minds and just do it. They didn't hesitate. And it often helped them reach an end, good or bad.

They knocked on the door.

"Leader?"

Right Hand cursed. They sounded so unsure. Almost shy.

"I said enough, what's so hard about it that everyone fails to understand?"

Right Hand stopped. Maybe it was right to have second thoughts. Leader didn't get angry. Not if the topic was defending someone else. They would just let the team run over them. They had never uttered a word as Right Hand threw up their anger, or never once scoffed when Youngest wanted to be spoiled. Never turned down Teammate's wish for new gear— despite having working ones, never once put a stop to Medic's wish to stop the training or decline missions, even if it was just over a bruised arm.

And they never did more than just talking in a stern tone.

So, that snarl was enough to freeze Right Hand.

They stood there for a while, trying to decide what to do.

"What about you just go away?" Leader shouted as they opened the door. Right Hand didn't know how Leader guessed that they were still there, but they couldn't ask when Leader was towering them.

The dishevelled look on Leader was foreign. Right Hand could see the red eyes now, with dark circles around their eyes and skin pale, shoulders slumped down.

"I—" Right Hand started, now knowing what to say.

"You," Leader growled, "will go and make sure the team doesn't fail. That's your role. Now leave me alone."

With a glare, Leader stepped back and shut the door.

-•-

Villain had been lost. They felt... they didn't know what they felt, but ever since Leader had given them an opportunity to get out of Whumper's base, they were feeling better.

They still felt like they were sitting on a ticking bomb with their family under the protection of the agency, but Villain knew it was mostly Whumper's biased antagonism of them. And the rest was what Villain had observed themselves.

They knew that as a wider entity, agency could do things that might just not be ethical. They actually didn't believe that the agency could get as brutal as Whumper anyway. But Villain thought they were safe because they were under Leader's protection, who held some strict ideas about how the things were supposed to go.

And they believed when Leader said their family was going to be safe.

Perhaps, Villain's trust was based on something else. Based on something awful Whumper - and to an extent, Villain - had done. Just thinking about it was enough to turn Villain a sobbing mess, but they had to hold themselves together. The team, thought slowly, was forgiving them. Even if Villain didn't think they deserved the mercy.

And they never asked for that forgiveness. They didn't deserve to ask. Even after everything Villain had done to the team, to Leader specifically behind the closed door of the 'interrogation' room, they were almost welcomed.

Now, sitting in their once enemy's living room, they felt alone. Alone with their own thoughts. And they didn't like where their thoughts were going.

Villain stood up, walking to Leader's door.

Villain hesitated outside, their hand hovering in the air. Despite their past, Leader had given Villain a chance, an opportunity to escape from Whumper.

Summoning the courage to knock, Villain rapped gently on the door, unsure of what response to expect. They half-expected Leader to shut them down, yet there was a flicker of hope that Leader would just help them again.

Because they desperately needed a saving again. This time from their own mind.

The door creaked open, revealing Leader's weary face. Red-rimmed eyes just stared at Villain, empty.

"Did something happen?" Leader asked softly. Villain had heard that tone often when one of the team had been injured by Whumper— or Villain. It carried the genuine concern Villain didn't deserve.

Villain swallowed hard, the lump in their throat making it difficult to speak. The sincerity in Leader's question was something they hadn't felt in ages.

"N-no," they stuttered. But they panicked when Leader attempted to close the door. "I... I wanted to talk. If you have a moment," Villain mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Leader's expression softened slightly, a hint of curiosity replacing the weariness momentarily.

"Look, I know I've done terrible things, and I don't expect you or anyone else to forgive me easily. But you gave me a chance, and I... I want to understand. Why? Why did you help me?" Villain admitted, their voice shaky. They just needed to hear it. Hear it to know it was real.

"You were protecting your family. And that is enough to deserve that chance. I couldn't stand to see another family crumbling."

Villain bowed their head. But the words haunted them. Another family. They wanted to ask that, but Leader stepped out of their room, motioning the other side of the corridor.

"This is best talked over a meal, I believe."

Leader's invitation caught Villain off guard. The suggestion of sharing a meal seemed almost normal, an everyday occurrence that opposed to everything.

Villain realised they hadn't eaten the lunch yet.

Leader prepared a basic meal, and Villain just watched them in silence. They couldn't bear to look at stiff and slow movements. It reminded too much of that time when the team was at their mercy— which they just didn't want to remember. The silence was only broken by Leader's occasional coughs and clatter or the tools.

Then they sat across each other, and Villain waited.

"When you have a family, you do everything for them," Leader started. "You endure. You live for them. You hope it gets you a good ending. And if I have the power to give you a good ending, I have to give you it, that's my responsibility as a human being."

Villain shrunk, playing with their food s little before swallowing harshly.

"And it's just the matter of time I get you and your family to a safe place, so don't worry. You will see them soon."

"I..." Villain breathed. "I don't want to see them."

Leader looked surprised for a moment before nodding them to continue.

"I don't think they will... approve what I did. It's better if I stay away."

"I understand," Leader said finally.

"How do you go on?" Villain asked, their voice cracking when they realised they overstepped. They tried to fix it. "I-I mean they don't—" They stopped themselves before they messed up further.

Leader looked to the plate they hadn't touched for a moment before turning to Villain.

"They don't see me as a family. But let me tell it in another way. If you went to your family, and they refused you, would you still love them?"

Villain didn't need to answer.

#whump #whump writing #leader whumpee #leader whump #dysfunctional family

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 9 months

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Chapter 12 Nemo dat quot non habet (No one gives what they do not have) - Benidorm part 1

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

Warnings: None

I didn't really check it so I'm sure it's full of mistakes...

Part 2 will be up this weekend, I hope

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Benidorm

But the day didn’t get better.

First, it took an hour just to get to the central part of the city due to traffic. Then, it took almost an additional hour to find where to park, close enough to the building where the CIA had a safe house, but not right by it.

And then, while they waited for Gabi to sign the documents at the safe house for the gear, Ghost, Soap and Riot plainly opened the bags and started laying it all on the tables to inspect both the gear and the containers, ignoring the protests of one of the caretakers.

‘‘I just had managed to fit it all inside… Ah, well’’ The man gulped down when Ghost briefly turned his eyes to him. ‘‘Suit yourselves’’

Two MCPR-300, three M4A1, a couple of flashbangs, eight handguns, and enough ammo for a whole troop. Bulletproof and tactical vests, night vision googles. A very small amount of explosives, not enough for Soap’s liking, and he started complaining right away while Gabi tried to reason with him. Riot sighed, shaking her head, and she didn’t have to look at Ghost to know he was displeased. His face was unreadable as always, but the tension in his jaw was unmistakable.

Gabi was talking with the two caretakers with Soap, and the third was by the door keeping watch over them, but she dared to hook a finger on one of Ghost’s belt loops as he sometimes did with her. He looked down at her, puzzled, thankful for the balaclava hiding the heat in his ears.

‘‘Knives’’ Riot whispered softly, and he nodded. Among the gear, there wasn’t a single knife, and that irked both him and her. Soap was angry at the lack of big explosives, which on the other hand Ghost was mostly thankful for as they were supposed to be on a covert op, but the lack of knives…

‘‘We’ll buy our own’’ She was still whispering, and unconsciously he leaned in, his nose almost touching her hair. At the same time she seemed to reach up, standing discreetely on her tip toes. ‘‘This city has a lot of expats and shady shit going on. I’m sure we can find some’’

Ghost nodded again, and then straightened up as they started putting everything inside the bags again. Soap helped them, still grumbling under his breath with an accent so thick that they didn’t understand shit, but the tone was clear.

‘‘The gear must be handed in when you get to the base in Rota’’ One of the caretakers said, reviewing the documents Gabi had just signed. ‘‘Intact if possible. You’ll also have to fill in these reports if you happen to use it’’

‘‘Let’s hope we won’t need it, thank you’’ The redhead frowned slightly, but didn’t lose her smile. ‘‘We’re on holiday after all!’’

‘‘I fail to see what kind of holiday needs two sniper rifles, M4s and handguns’’ The other caretaker snorted, handing her another, smaller, bag and two wallets. ‘‘Here’s the last of it. Laswell said you don’t need support, only the gear and intel, so… I think we’re done here…?’’

Both caretakers and the sentry by the door observed, jaw agape, while Ghost and Soap were already carrying the bags out without even giving them another glance. Gabi sighed, looking at them and then at Riot, who simply shrugged, grabbed another bag and followed.

‘‘Yes, we are done here… Thanks for the help, bye!’’ The redhead rushed behind her companions down the stairs, with the smaller bag in hand and stuffing the wallets inside her purse. ‘‘Hey, wait…!’’

By the time she got to the street, the other three were already placing the bags in the back of the SUV.

‘‘You could have been a bit more polite’’ Gabi grumbled, climbing into the backseat and then checking the paperwork she had just been given. ‘‘Ok, the apartment the CIA has provided us with is…’’

‘‘We’re going shopping first, hen’’ Soap smiled gently, patting her knee after sitting beside her. The redhead blinked at him, surprised.

‘‘Shopping for what?’’

‘‘Things’’ Riot answered simple from the passenger seat, guiding Ghost through the streets, Google Maps open in her phone. It didn’t take long until they parked in an open air car park, fairly close to a big deparment store, and the Lieutenant turned the engine off and looked at the Sergeant.

‘‘How much time do you two need for your shopping, lovie?’’

‘‘Give me fifteen minutes’’ Riot chuckled while opening the passenger door, and then, stuck her head inside again, looking into the backseat. ‘‘Gabi, let’s go, we need to go buy those things we talked about earlier’’

‘‘What things… AH!’’ Gabi yelped when Soap all but pushed her outside, grinning.

‘‘C’mon, hen, we don’t have all day, get on with it’’

‘‘What…? What are we doing?’’ Gabi whisper-yelled at Riot, who grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the department store. From the corner of her eye she could see Soap and Ghost getting out of the SUV and starting to open doors. ‘‘What’s happening? What are they doing?’’

‘‘Do you have field training, Gabi?’’

‘‘I… I had to undergo some basic courses back at The Farm, yeah, but I fail to see how that’s relevant, I just deal with communications…’’

‘‘Now that we’re in open air, in short, Ghost found a tracker in one of the bags’’ Riot explained, in a low voice, and Gabi almost stopped in her tracks, but the taller woman dragged her behind. ‘‘Don’t stop, we’re going to buy bags to move the gear. Then we’ll get rid of those and the car’’

‘‘Why the car? We rented it!’’

‘‘And we left it on the street for almost an hour, without vigilance, while those three idiots had you signing paper after paper’’

Gabi followed Riot inside the department store, feeling dizzy. The CIA had given them a bag with a tracker, and God knew what else there was in the bags. Now she understood why Ghost and Soap were checking the car thoroughly in the parking lot.

‘‘Laswell approved of this op, why would the CIA place a tracker in one of the bags…?’’

‘‘I doubt it has been Laswell’’ Riot commented, looking around and reading the floor plan before heading towards the luggage section. ‘‘But it makes sense they’d try to keep an eye on another HeadHunters operator in case Rico tries to kill me, doesn’t it?’’

‘‘Nobody is going to kill you!’’ Gabi whispered angrily, but Riot just chuckled.

‘‘I’m certainly not going to make it easy for them’’

Parking lot

‘‘Found another two in the bags, Lt’’ Soap sighed, tossing the devices on the backseat, and got a grunt for all answer from Ghost, who was hunched over the open bonnet, checking the engine.

‘‘That makes one for each bag, and two in the car’’ The Scot continued, closing the doors and walking towards the front to see what the Lieutenant was checking. ‘‘Guess the apartment will be full of them too’’

‘‘That’s why other arrangements have been made’’ Ghost huffed, straightening up and showing him another tracker. ‘‘I haven’t found listening devices though, only trackers. Which is good, we can get rid of the bags and the SUV with ease’’

‘‘What’s the plan?’’ Soap leaned against the car’s side.

‘‘We drive to the CIA apartment and leave the bags there. But we’ll move the gear in the car to the new bags Gabi and Christine are buying right now.’’ Ghost looked around, hooking his balaclava up to his nose and offered the Sergeant a cigarette. ‘‘You’ll search the apartment with Gabi for listening bugs and the like. Meanwhile, Christine and I will go and rent another car, and turn this one in’’

‘‘So yer leaving meh in an apartment alone with ma hen’’ Soap chuckled, and Ghost rolled his eyes, taking a long puff off his cigarette, but his own scarred lips were twisted in a sly grin.

‘‘Give them a show, will ya Johnny’’

‘‘Gladly’’ Soap laughed heartily, observing his friend as the tall Lieutenant, still grinning, looked in the direction of the department store. The scars that marked his face looked redder than usual, and there was perspiration on his upper lip. The unforgiving Spanish heat was getting to him just as much as the others, maybe more due to the balaclava.

Since Las Almas, Johnny had seen Simon’s face quite often, as the Lieutenant tended to take his balaclava off when they two were completely alone, like when they were playing videogames in the Scot’s room. Or with Gaz, the three playing videogames together. In those moments, Simon seemed at ease and relaxed with them, exchanging awful jokes and anecdotes, and laughing heartily.

In those moments, Johnny could see the man Simon had been, once, and understood the sadness he could see in Price’s gaze sometimes when looking at Ghost. One night, after Las Almas, both of them drunk out of their mind, Simon had opened up and told Johnny everything. Everything. Roba, his family, his torture, his revenge.

‘‘Have ye shown’er?’’

Simon looked at Johnny, cocking his head to one side. He wasn’t stupid and knew right away what his friend was asking though.

‘‘Have I shown who what?’’

‘‘Ye know what am asking’’

Simon sighed, meditating his answer while exhaling the smoke, slowly. Johnny just looked at him, waiting for what he already knew would be a curt no.

‘‘No’’

‘‘Why?’’ Soap moved closer, looking up at him, holding his cigarette between his lips, arms crossed. ‘‘What’s stopping ye?’’

The Lieutenant stubbornly kept his eyes looking forward, avoiding both the Scot’s blue eyes and his question, and Johnny laughed incredulously.

‘‘Yer scared of her reaction? If she sees yer face? For fuck’s sake, Simon…’’

‘‘It’s not exactly pleasing to see’’ The Lieutenant grunted, smoking. ‘‘Nothing to bring home to brag about’’

‘‘Aw, c’mon, cocky bastard. Quite the opposite, ye said, and yer right’’ Soap’s hand slapped merrily Simon’s broad shoulder, receiving a grunt in answer. ‘‘Ye cannae think…’’

‘‘What if she gets reminded of what she’s gone through when seeing this… marred thing, Johnny?’’ Ghost grumbled, retreating further into himself, like a dark cloud had descended on him. ‘‘What if she can’t bear looking at me without going back to…’’

‘‘Yer aff yer heid’’ Johnny huffed, rolling his eyes, and stepped even closer until his crossed arms were pressed up against Simon’s chest, forcing the taller man to look down at him. Simon’s dark brown eyes looked as stern as always, but he had learned to see beyond that in the months since Las Almas. ‘‘Yer telling meh that’s what ye think if ye look at her face?’’

‘‘No’’ There it was. The hard edge to his voice was back, the low, dangerous rumble. ‘‘What I think is I want to destroy with my own hands whoever did it to her’’

‘‘What makes ye think she won’t feel the same if she sees yer face? If she sees you?’’ Johnny had to laugh when Simon’s jaw relaxed slightly, mouth almost agape. ‘‘Ye should know’er better by now. She’d be furious. She’d track any of the bastards down if ye let any alive to off them herself. Bloodily. And ye know it. Everything else are excuses’’

Ghost meditated about his words for a second, the black cloud seemingly vanishing, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he pondered. Johnny shook his head and finished his cigarette, turning around in time to see their two girls on their way back, carrying several bags of different sizes. Christ, one of them was even pink.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a flash of white teeth and a wide grin right before the balaclava covered it again. Welp, that only meant Gabi and him would have to work extra hard.

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topsy-cryptid · 4 months

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I expected to go into the Acolyte hating the broad strokes but appreciating the minor details, but this show surprised me by reversing that expectation! So, here's my review of the first two episodes.

The Broad Strokes:

The gorgeous visuals. Dare I say it? On par with Andor.

The pacing. Intrigue was set up and maintained! I'm not entirely sold on this show (see: Minor Nitpicks) but I'm still curious enough to see it through to the end.

The characters. Sol is the most likable character so far, with Osha and Jecki as close seconds. I dislike Mae, but that's just because she's a well-written villain.

White and gold color schemes my beloved. So elegant and dignified!

The premise. Most of the other Star Wars shows released this year were building upon previous shows (Bad Batch – Clone Wars :: Ahsoka – Rebels). The Acolyte is the first time the High Republic has been shown on screen, which is a tremendous undertaking. I think they did a fantastic job with the setting.

The fight scenes! Indara's fight with Mae is particularly memorable because it's so cool to see Force-enhanced battling in real life. Like, oh! Now I see what the prequels Jedi meant by "the Force is clouded"! This is what it looks like when they're at their peak!

PowerPoint transitions.

Balancing plot, action, and character moments. This is part of pacing, but it deserves it's own bullet point because this is massively hard to do.

The Minor Nitpicks:

"Our political enemies might use this against us." Tell me you didn't put any effort into political worldbuilding without telling me. What political enemies? I don't expect names, but I would like to have a broad idea of what the stakes are, especially if this is going to be an ongoing issue for the Jedi characters in this series.

Jecki was talking to Osha on the ship and even smiling, then Sol and Yord walked in, and Jecki's smile dropped, like she was doing something she wasn't supposed to. Why?

I've been getting into East Asian cinema, and going from that to The Acolyte makes it extremely obvious that these actors are Westerners. Something about the way they bow, and the way they request permission to speak. The Jedi's respect-based culture is not natural to any of these characters.

Every guy I went to high school with acted like that apothecary owner. I don't understand why Hollywood is obsessed with this character archetype, but honestly, I wouldn't mind never seeing it again.

Does Indara not know anything about tactics? Obviously Mae threw the knife at the bar owner to distract Indara. Really, Indara should have killed Mae when she had the chance, but her guilt and shock understandably stopped her. In that case, she should have changed her position on the battlefield to prioritize protecting the bar owner until Mae gave up and left.

Torbin's death had "video game player character commits suicide when their constitution gets too low" energy. It isn't insensitive to do it this way, it's just not how I would've done it. Suicide is not a foregone conclusion for poor mental health.

I'm sorry, I have to bring up the attachment discourse. The characters in The Acolyte are far too preoccupied with it. The Late Republic (prequel era) Jedi had the same rules against attachment, but they trusted each other to know what they were doing. For example, when Obi-Wan defends his former Padawan (Anakin) against Mace Windu in ROTS, Mace is skeptical but holds his tongue. When Master Sol does the same in The Acolyte, Vernestra immediately accuses him of attachment. Why? Why doesn't she trust Sol (a Jedi Master who has proven himself) to mind his own attachments?

Master Sol is moderately shocked that his former Padawan was accused of murder, and Vernestra goes, "I didn't know you still had feelings for her. :/" Not even the prequel Jedi were this critical. Yes, even Luminara.

Overall, I did like the show, and though my standards are low for it, I am excited for the next episode. I probably won't be reblogging much about it, but so far I appreciate this show as an addition to the Star Wars canon. Well, it's better than Ahsoka and Book of Boba Fett, which is good enough in my book.

#the acolyte critical #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #meta

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ecargmura · 11 months

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Pokemon Horizons Episode 27 Review - Let's Make Curry!

This is a fun episode for the Rising Volt Tacklers and a nice buildup episode for the Explorers. I do like how both sides are shown without one taking away from the spotlight from the other too much. Besides, the title of the episode is called “As Long I’m With My Companions”, which is the theme of this episode. The RVTs are together eating curry while the Explorers are having a meeting.

Overall, this is a nice development episode for Dot and Liko to strengthen their friendship. It’s rare to see Dot outside again, so it’s a nice treat for viewers. I do like the fact that Dot does care about her friendship with Liko and she’s frustrated when she learned that the information about the Black Rayquaza sighting was a misinformation tactic, which she fell for once again. Fortunately, unlike Episodes 14 and 15, nobody is in danger this time. The only thing that happened to the kids was that they met the Hiker from Pokemon Journeys Episode 101 who gave them curry ingredients. Whether it’s the same guy or not is debatable, but remember that the Nurse Joy designs are the same as the one from the previous series too.

The curry making process was extremely adorable. Just seeing Liko and Roy be all excited for curry was super cute. The fact that Dot never had it makes me wonder what sort of environment she lived in before Murdock brought her to the Brave Asagi. I loved the little detail of the curries Roy and Liko had back home were much different with Roy showing off his good knife skills and dicing his onions very thin while Liko mentioned having chunky vegetable curry back home. The five steps was hilarious as it went from basic cooking steps to the last one being “your heart” topped with hand hearts equivalent to the “Moe Moe Kyun” meme from K-On. Another aspect I liked was that both Roy and Liko made their own curries that matched their own preferences. Unlike Episode 13 where Dot and Ludlow were eating sandwiches inside the ship, all of the Rising Volt Tacklers are now having a picnic outside. It’s so nice to see everyone enjoying the meals this time around. I really want curry now…

On the Explorers’ side, they aren’t as harmonious as their enemies. They’re still antagonistic towards each other and they have a rather stiff environment as they spend their screen time being in a meeting. Amethio remarks that the Hero Pokemon were awakened due to Rayquaza and they should try to locate it to find the others before their enemies do. Regardless, their sights are still set on Terapagos as well. Spinel still seems to withhold vital information about Terapagos and the pendant from his fellow admins; man, I missed Spinel. He’s still the best Explorers admin with his intelligence; he was also the one that threw Dot off the trail with the Rayquaza sighting—he did it on purpose. One thing I liked about the Explorers was that there finally is confirmation that Zirc is a fan of Nidothing; I do wonder how he’d react when he learns that Nidothing is Dot who is his enemy.

With the heroes’ sights now setting on visiting Diana’s antique shop acquaintance, I do wonder how much longer they will stay in Galar. It does feel like they’ve been in the region for a while now. If they do leave the region, where will they go? I’m curious on what will happen next week and where their next destination will be. What are your thoughts about this episode? One more important question: if you like curry, what sort of curry is your favorite?

#pokemon horizons #anipoke #liko #sprigatito #hatenna #terapagos #roy #fuecoco #dot #quaxly #rising volt tacklers #explorers #review #anime #anime review #ecargmura #arum journal

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maddieautobot273 · 5 months

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Silk & Cologne (57)

A Miguel O'hara x OC fanfic - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 57: Destiny - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x Female Spidersona OC

Words: 2.8K+ words

Warnings: PG for fluff then slight angst, then back to fluff again

Summary: Lisa asks Miguel a question

//////////

“Miguel, this is ridiculous!”

Miguel had stayed true to his promise, or as I liked to call it a threat, of him carrying me around with him as he continued his work at HQ.

There I was clinging to his body with the small, prickling fear of him dropping me at any point in the back of my mind, despite the fact Miguel had reassured me multiple times that he wouldn’t. I could hear the smugness of his laughter, picturing his charming smile on that handsome face of his. I clung to his chest, my arms secured around his neck, my legs at his waist, as Miguel went about his work day as if things were completely normal.

“You’re ridiculous!” I whined.

“Oh, I’m ridiculous?” He snickered, the grip of his large hand tightening around my waist as we entered his lab.

Most of the afternoon wasn’t too bad, but him carrying me through the cafeteria as he picked up dinner for us had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of my time here in the Spider-Society, shock, even my life. I hid my face as Spider-Chef made a kids meal joke at me, my cheeks burning and I couldn’t look anyone else in the eye after that.

“Yes, you are!” I huffed, burying my face into his collarbone.

Miguel laughed again as I felt him move a leg up and stepped upward onto the platform of his work station. It rocked slightly before beginning its ascent into the air. After taking a few steps forward, Miguel started lowering me and for a brief moment my heart fluttered until he set me down at the edge of a table, and leaned back slightly.

He gave me a good long look before dangling the bag in front of me. “Are you going to behave while I get the rest of my work done?”

I huffed with a playful grin, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not a child, Miguel, you don’t have to bribe me with food.”

“But you look so cute when you pout like that.” Miguel’s gaze flickered to a teasing glare as his head inched closer towards mine. “Mi princesa~” - My princess

My heart fluttered when he looked at me like that, and I could feel my palms sweat as I reached up for the bag and took it from his hand. “I’ll still take it, but this doesn’t mean I’m proving you right.”

“Of course not, smart girl.” Miguel gave me a wink and with a wave of his hand, summoned a horde of holographic screens around him.

I munched on my food quietly as Miguel worked and on occasion would pass him along some of his meal or drink to make sure he was eating too, not entirely consumed by his work. After a few minutes, the bag was empty and I was sipping the last of my drink when my daydreaming gaze strayed from looking at the insignia on his chest and went up to his face.

“What are you working on?” I asked him.

“Just. . . reviewing some recon reports.” He answered after a brief pause, his eyes never straying from the one screen he looked at.

At that point my legs had retreated from his waist, still at his sides, though now just dangling from the table as they swayed up and down. I took another sip of my drink before speaking up again.

“Recon on more anomaly sightings?”

“Among other things, but yes.” Miguel nodded softly as he swiped a screen away and brought another one closer.

The silence that followed was so thick you could cut it with a knife. A voice in the back of my mind kept nagging me over, and over again, begging me to just ask him. Something didn’t feel right. “This anomaly recon wouldn't happen to involve a lady with a red dress and tactical visor with psychic powers?”

Miguel stopped typing, and his silence was even louder than the ominous noises throughout his lab. He didn’t turn to look at me as he formulated an answer. At that moment, all I could think of was our previous exchange that one morning while looking out into the sunset.

“You’re starting to pick up my ques. I may not be able to hide stuff from you anymore.”

“You want to hide things?”

I swallowed, anxiously awaiting for Miguel to speak up.

He sighed deeply, shutting his eyes briefly after his iris’s flickered between the red and brown colour palette before he settled his gaze on me. “I really am that obvious, aren’t I?”

“You’re looking for Madame Web?” I asked him.

He nods. “I am.”

“Is it because you. . .” I could feel my heart ping with hurt at even thinking of the accusation, but before I could withdraw, the words fluttered from my lips. “Didn’t trust me?”

Miguel’s eyes went wide as his head reeled back briefly to process what he had heard. “Of course not, mi Mona Lisa.”

“Then why the secrecy?” I asked him, my grip on my drink tightening and for a moment I thought I was going to crush it.

“I just. . .” Miguel shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order as he gently took the cup out of my grasp and set it aside, gently placing his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t like how she’s been so quiet since the Invasion. I don’t like how she hasn’t reached out to you again, and I know you’ve been wanting to talk to her. . .”

“Miguel. . .” My voice and gaze softened as I looked at him, feeling the gentle caress of his fingers as they kneaded my shoulders.

“I was worried about you, and not only that, but. . .” Miguel’s grip tightened on my shoulder lightly before easing up to caress my cheeks. “I wanted to reach out to her too.”

“You can’t. . .?” The sentence faded from my mouth as my brain processed what he had meant.

“I’m not like the others, remember?” Miguel offered her a small, sad, yet sympathetic smile as his thumb brushed up and down her cheek. ‘I don’t always like what I have to do. . .”

The others, as in the other Spider People, as in Peter Parker. They got bitten by a radioactive spider to get their powers. Miguel didn’t. He got his powers through DNA splicing.

“I’m sorry for pushing.” I spoke softly, and when I tried to lower my head, Miguel’s grip was gentle as he coaxed me to keep looking at him, his gaze soft as he stared into my eyes.

“Why are you apologizing?” He responded, a hint of pain in his voice. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you.”

He brushed a hand through my hair before pulling me into his embrace, closing the distance and standing in between my legs as his presence consumed every part of me, sight, smell, and touch.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” He asked me.

After briefly burying my face in the crock of his neck, I pulled away slightly. “Show it to me again? The spiderverse?”

Miguel pulled back completely, his grip delicately pulling me along with him as I was brought up from the table, standing on my own two feet as Miguel held me close to him. “Lyla, do the thing, and ensure we’re not disturbed.”

“Okie dokie, boss.” Lyla’s voice chirped up across the room and the low lighting seemed to dim darker.

I remembered it like it was yesterday. How a white light dripped down like water and sprouted a large tree and the branches of that tree stretched out and out into webs. Beautiful spider webs filled with life and destiny.

Miguel tucked a strong arm around my shoulders as I looked up into the multiverse, admiring all the different webs and the stories they told. Some bad, some good, though right now I was more leaning towards the good. I glanced over and I found my dimension.

“It’s beautiful.” I whispered, my hand squeezing Miguel’s.

The pulsing fluorescent blue webbing was vibrant, breathtaking to look at. When Miguel first showed me this, there were white crackling sparks stretching all around it. He had described it as my universe trying to repair itself and determine whether it would accept me as a real superhero, its own Spider-Woman.

Now, thanks in part to Madam Web, and our friends stopping the invasion, the white threads seemed to have meld with the blue, pulsing in harmony, and there were flashes of images within the webbing. Images of. . .

“That’s me-!” I realized, speaking a loud as I inched closer.

“That’s you.” Miguel’s own voice was soft as he stayed close, not being too far behind me.

The images showed me fighting Dr. Octavious, protecting Touga from Chameleon, fighting Chameleon when he attacked me in my apartment, my Spider-Man research, and the moment when I first got bitten by the spider. They also showed images from my past before I got my powers. Growing up in Toronto, losing my. . . dad, meeting Jin, and going to Korea.

It made me think back to what my mom had asked me about back at the airport, and something I had been thinking quietly to myself since then.

“Hey,” I gently called out to Miguel as I turned to face him. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked me, his arm tightening its grip slightly.

“Remember back at the airport, my mom wanted to talk to me privately before catching her flight?” I reminded him.

He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

I took a deep breath to compose myself, using Miguel’s body as an anchor to still me. “She asked me about potentially. . . flying over to Korea to visit the family, and. . . see my step-father.”

I could see his expression change suddenly. It was a fraction of a change, but it was there and it was loud. His eyes widened as tucked me closer, both arms wrapped around me as he looked down at me, giving me his full attention. “How do you feel about it?”

“I’m. . . actually thinking about going.” I stated softly, and my nerves seemed to settle a bit as I officially came to that conclusion.

“You’ll go see him?” Miguel asked me.

I nodded softly. Being there, sitting with him, mom, and just talking. I knew it had been overdue, but even the idea of it seemed hard, and scary. So I imagined someone else in that room with me.

“Will you come with me?” I asked him.

I could feel his body tense against me. He seemed to stare at me, searching my face long and hard. I was worried I was asking for too much. He had a whole secret organization to run, would he even have the time to come away with me for a few days, or longer?

But before I could back pedal and take it back, Miguel kept me in place as he said. “Yes.”

My eyes went wide and my body tensed, nerves going haywire. “You will?”

“If you want me to come as support, then I’ll do it.” Miguel stated, his lips curling into a small ghost of a smile. “I’ll ask Jess and Lyla to handle things while we’re gone. You’ve shown me so much kindness, patience, and have been there for me, so let me pay you back in kind. Lisa. . . you’re important to me.”

Those words, the fast few especially, hit me like a flood and it took all my willpower to not crumble in his arms.

“If it really means that much, I’ll go with you.” He inched his head closer, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “Okay?”

My lip quivered as I nodded softly. “Okay.

“I briefly caught the ending of your and Pav’s performance.” Miguel commented sweetly, changing the subject to calm me down whilst tucking some of my hair behind my ear. “You were wonderful.”

“Thanks,” I smiled softly at him. “Pav was really nervous, but I think he’s really getting it down.”

“I didn’t recognize the song. Is it new?” He asked me. “I liked the tune.”

“It’s been around since last year.” I nodded my head, eyes wandering as I rambled. “The melody is traditional Korean with a mixture of Caribbean sounds. The song in general sounds really pretty but once you learn and analyze the lyrics, it’s actually a song about overcoming a toxic relationship.”

“Oh.” Miguel’s pupils went wide. “That’s kind of depressing. Sorry I asked. . .”

I chuckled lightly, shaking my head to reassure him. “No, no, it’s okay. A lot of people still like it.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” Miguel asked me with a genuinely curious glint in his eyes.

“Personal experience as in I like the song or as in I can relate to overcoming a toxic relationship with a certain idol?” I rose a matching brow.

“I believe it’s the latter, but I’d say they are a certain ‘revolt' at the sight of them’ idol.” Miguel clarified with a mixture of playfulness and naughtiness in his voice.

“Ah yes, my mistake.” I giggled softly, rolling my eyes.

Miguel laughed along with me before he settled, his hands lowering to grasp my waist gently. “Would you show it to me?”

“You want me to dance it for you?” I asked with surprise.

“I was thinking. . .” Miguel’s voice wandered as he kept a hand at my waist, the other trailing up to my arm as he extended it out and held my hand. “I’d dance it with you.”

“Really?” I thought my eyes were going to bulge out of its sockets.

Miguel gave me a sweet smile, his fangs glistening in the low lighting. “Why not? It would help with practicing for Petra’s ball.”

I gasped, my heart skipping a beat as I squeezed his hand, inching closer to him. “Does that mean–!”

“I’m still thinking about it.” Miguel quickly interjected with a snicker, his eyes playfully glaring down at me. “Again, it wouldn’t hurt to practice. Not to mention, I think we have a pretty good stage setup, don’t you think?”

I looked out, watching the red and blue projections of the spiderverse hovered around us. Like glistening specs in a starry night sky.

“May I have this dance, Lord O’hara?” I asked Miguel.

Miguel’s smile morphed into a grin as he bowed his head, the hand at my waist gently inching me closer. “It would be my pleasure, Lady Lisa.”

His smile was infectious as I reached down to the music player in my thigh holster and scrolled through my playlist for the song before pressing play. The music echoed through the room as Miguel and I moved with the beat, and I was caught off guard with how smooth Miguel’s movements were. He remembered some of the moves he had seen Pav and I do, and when we came to a step he didn’t know, I took the lead and guided him.

“Where did you learn how to dance like that?” I asked him with genuine intrigue.

“School electives.” Miguel answered with a grin as he suddenly dipped me, his hand snaking up my back to support me. “Ever heard of a bachata?”

“It. . . rings a bell.” My voice pondered softly as Miguel gently eased me up before twirling me around as we continued our dance.

Bachata was a popular dance originating from the Dominican Republic. I remembered learning about it briefly during one of college dance classes where we had a semester about salsa and why people differentiate the two. Salsa was more fast paced, energetic, and playful, while bachata on the other hand was slow, and easier to learn in some cases, but it was also considered sexy and sensual.

I could feel it in Miguel’s steps, how he moved. It was captivating, and I wanted to soak in every inch of it.

“Maybe when we have a moment after Korea, I could teach you?” He offered, his eyes glistening as they flickered to match the shimmering red of the dangling webs.

Hypnotized by his gaze and flirtatious charm, I smiled. “Yes!”

“Good, it’s a date.” Miguel beamed proudly as he suddenly picked me up and spun me around once in one big swoop before dropping me to my feet. His smile never fades as I catch my breath. “Until then, will you have to pick up on your Korean again for the visit?”

I grinned back at him, my eyes glaring with a tease at his question as the song began to close. I struck a vibrant pose after Miguel twirled me away from him before he reeled me back in, getting down on one knee and catching me as I landed in his lap. I sang along to the closing lyrics as I reached a hand to caress his face as Miguel kept me close.

“Kkochhyang-giman namgigo gassdanda~” - There was nothing but the scent of a flower

/////////

Leave a like or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tagged: @0eye0, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix , @r1dd1kulus, @kirablommuwu @kenacole @kuinnoa, @devotedlyatomicdeer @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx @noahspector @senicrile @ahoeformyself

#silk & cologne #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #fanfiction #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x oc #miguel o'hara x spiderpersona #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel atsv #miguel 2099 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara #fluff #angst #slow burn

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polycraftory · 2 days

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We are back with the Thawing the Ice box from Rainbow After Dark @rainbowcrate. I actually managed to read both of these books, so later tonight and tomorrow I will be posting some fun detail shots of each book and with a full book review!

My favorite thing about the RAD box is that both books are indie published, so they both get the full overhaul. This month's theme was ice kings and queens. Exposed by HL Day is a post-apocalyptic action romance with X using all the knife skills and tactics at his disposal to save Tate, an innocent man being hunted by the dystopian "Defenders of the Peace" police force. A Whisper of Solace by Milena McKay is a sapphic contemporary romance set in Hollywood between the CEO ice queen of a major movie studio and the one woman that has been able to melt through her defenses.

Stay tuned for reviews and detail shots of these books soon!

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sharponsight · 3 months

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Kershaw Blur Review - Sharp On Sight

Howdy Folks! Welcome back to Sharp On Sight. Today, we’re taking a close look at the Kershaw Blur, a popular choice among knife enthusiasts for its reliability, sleek design, and high-quality materials. In this review, we’ll dive into the features that make the Kershaw Blur a standout in the world of everyday carry (EDC) knives.

Overview and Specifications

The Kershaw Blur is known for its robust construction and versatile functionality. Here are the key specifications:

Blade Length: 3.4 inches

Overall Length: 7.9 inches

Blade Material: 14C28N Stainless Steel

Blade Coating: DLC (Diamond-Like Carbon)

Handle Material: 6061-T6 Aluminum with Trac-Tec Inserts

Weight: 3.9 oz

Blade Style: Drop Point

Edge Type: Plain Edge

Opening Mechanism: SpeedSafe Assisted Opening

Design and Build Quality

One of the first things you’ll notice about the Kershaw Blur is its sleek, tactical design. The olive drab handle gives it a rugged and professional look, while the black DLC-coated blade adds an extra layer of durability and wear resistance. The handle is crafted from 6061-T6 aluminum, known for its strength and light weight. The Trac-Tec inserts provide a secure grip, even in wet or slippery conditions.

Blade Performance

The blade of the Kershaw Blur is made from 14C28N stainless steel, a high-performance steel known for its excellent edge retention and corrosion resistance. The drop point style of the blade makes it versatile for a variety of tasks, from slicing and cutting to piercing. The plain edge ensures clean and precise cuts, making it a great choice for everyday use.

SpeedSafe Assisted Opening

Kershaw’s patented SpeedSafe assisted opening mechanism is a standout feature of the Blur. It allows for quick and easy one-handed deployment of the blade, making it incredibly convenient for EDC. The thumb stud on the blade ensures smooth and reliable opening every time.

Comfort and Ergonomics

The Blur’s handle design is ergonomic, fitting comfortably in the hand. The aluminum handle, combined with the Trac-Tec inserts, provides a secure and comfortable grip, reducing hand fatigue during extended use. The knife’s weight of 3.9 ounces makes it light enough for everyday carry without compromising on strength or durability.

Conclusion

Overall, the Kershaw Blur 14C28N Steel is an excellent choice for anyone looking for a reliable, versatile, and high-quality EDC knife. Its combination of durable materials, ergonomic design, and innovative features make it a favorite among knife enthusiasts. Whether you’re an outdoor adventurer, a tactical professional, or simply need a dependable knife for everyday tasks, the Kershaw Blur is worth considering.

For more detailed insights and to purchase this knife, visit me at:

https://sharponsight.com

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financead · 11 months

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Promote Financial Business Like a Pro Today!

In today's competitive financial services ads industry, effective promotion is crucial for businesses to stand out, attract customers, and drive growth. This article provides insights and strategies to help financial businesses promote their services like seasoned professionals. It covers brand presence, digital marketing, social media, partnerships, content creation, networking, and tracking. By the end, you'll be equipped to promote your financial business confidently and effectively.

Understanding the Importance of Effective Financial Business Promotion

The role of promotion in driving growth for financial businesses

Promotion is important for ppc for financial business because it helps them get their brand out there and attract clients. There are many different ways to promote a financial business, such as online advertising, print advertising, and public relations. Effective promotion can help financial businesses grow and succeed.

Key challenges faced by financial businesses in promoting their services

Promoting financial services can be challenging because it is a complex and trust-based industry. However, there are ways to overcome these challenges, such as:

Making your content clear and concise

Building trust through social proof and testimonials

Focusing on the benefits of your services

Offering free consultations or trials

Partnering with other businesses

Attending industry events

Creating a strong online presence

Establishing a Strong Brand Presence in the Financial Industry

Defining your financial business's unique value proposition

To stand out from the crowd, financial businesses should define their unique value proposition. This could be a personalized approach to financial advertising services planning, an uncanny ability to explain complex financial concepts, or something else. By highlighting their unique value proposition, financial businesses can attract potential clients and build a strong reputation.

Developing a compelling brand identity and messaging

Your brand identity is the personality of your financial business. It should be consistent across all channels, from your logo and website design to your tone of voice in social media posts. To create a strong brand identity, think about your ideal clients and tailor your messaging to resonate with them.

Building trust and credibility through effective branding

To build trust in financial advertisement services, you can showcase your expertise through thought leadership content and case studies, and leverage client testimonials and reviews.

Leveraging Digital Marketing Strategies for Financial Business Promotion

Overview of digital marketing channels for financial businesses

Ah, the magic of digital marketing! It's like having a fancy marketing Swiss Army knife with tools galore. From social media and email marketing to content creation and search engine optimization (SEO), there are plenty of digital marketing channels waiting to be utilized by financial businesses. The key is knowing which ones align best with your target audience and goals.

Developing a comprehensive digital marketing strategy

Before starting digital marketing, it is important to develop a comprehensive strategy that aligns with your business objectives. This includes setting clear goals, identifying your target audience, and choosing the right digital marketing tactics to reach them. It is also important to be patient and consistent with your digital marketing efforts, as it takes time to build a successful online presence.

Maximizing SEO and SEM techniques to improve online visibility

To improve online visibility, financial businesses should focus on SEO and SEM. This includes optimizing websites with relevant keywords, creating valuable content, and investing in targeted online advertising.

Utilizing Social Media Platforms to Reach and Engage Target Customers

Identifying the right social media platforms for financial business promotion

To promote financial business on social media, it is important to choose the right platforms and create engaging content. LinkedIn is ideal for targeting professionals, while Facebook and Instagram are better for reaching a broader audience. It is important to focus on quality over quantity when creating content.

Creating engaging and relevant content for social media

To captivate your audience on social media, create engaging and relevant content that educates, entertains, or inspires. Share financial tips and tricks, debunk common myths, or share success stories. Don't be scared to add some individuality to your posts.

Implementing effective social media advertising and targeting strategies

Social media organic reach is limited, so businesses should invest in targeted social media ads to reach their ideal customers. Ads can be tailored to specific demographics, interests, and behaviors, and businesses should track and analyze the effectiveness of their ad campaigns.

Creating Valuable Content to Position Your Financial Business as an Industry Expert

In today's digital age, content is king, even in the financial industry. By creating valuable content, you can position your financial business as an industry expert and build trust with your target audience. Whether it's blog posts, articles, or videos, content marketing allows you to showcase your knowledge and establish thought leadership.

Building Strategic Partnerships and Collaborations for Mutual Promotion

Strategic partnerships can help financial businesses expand their reach, cross-promote each other's businesses, and leverage joint events and co-branded initiatives for maximum impact. Businesses should identify potential partners who complement their services and share a similar target audience.

Implementing Effective Networking Strategies to Expand Your Reach

Networking is not just about exchanging business cards at events; it's a powerful tool for promoting your financial business. Attend industry events and conferences to connect with like-minded professionals, potential clients, and key influencers. Create connections, share ideas, and keep abreast on market developments. By networking effectively, you can expand your reach and open doors to new opportunities.

Tracking and Analyzing Promotion Efforts for Continuous Improvement and Success

To ensure your promotional efforts are driving results, you need to track and analyze their effectiveness. Set measurable goals and KPIs, and use analytics tools to collect data on website traffic, engagement, and conversions. By making data-driven decisions, you can continuously improve your promotional strategies and achieve long-term success.

Conclusion

To promote your financial business like a pro, be creative, form partnerships, and make connections. Use digital marketing, social media, valuable content, and strategic partnerships. Track your progress and adapt to industry trends.

FAQ

How long does it take to see results from financial business promotion efforts?

Promotion is a long-term effort. You may see initial results in a few months, but significant growth may take six months to a year or more.

Is social media promotion effective for financial businesses?

Social media promotion can be highly effective for financial businesses. To be effective, identify the right platforms, create relevant content, and use targeted advertising and engagement strategies.

How important is networking for financial business promotion?

Networking helps you build relationships with industry professionals, clients, and influencers. Attending events and building a strong network can expand your reach, gain insights, and unlock new business opportunities.

#advertise financial business #best financial services ads #financial ads #financial advertising #financial advertisement #promote financial business

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lennjamin-o7 · 2 years

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🌯🗡️ anon here! The new chapter was so good! I love how you wrote Techno's anger and the subtle parts where he's trying to reinforce and further justify how betrayed he feels! It feels very natural and like real if you get what I mean!

I also love the angst between him and Wil right now! (twinsduo my beloved) You can tell Wilbur isn't used to things not going the way he expects and you can see quite easily how he's trying to make things right again but is only making it worse because he's just not stepping back and like reviewing the situation like Phil is! Oh and the stuff with the medic! I adore how you showed the like clear contrast between Prince Wilbur and the Wil that Techno knows when the doctor was looking over Tech.

I can't wait to see the angst potential hit full force when Tech inevitably snaps at Tommy after he pushes too far, tiny boy isn't as smooth as he thinks with pushing the family dynamic more, he's too excited about getting a new big / little brother. Also, I loved the bit between Tech the scalpels, he is ABSOLUTELY the type to just have a fuck tonne of sharp objects on him in general; bro would 100% eventually hide daggers in his braids if he's given chance.

Oh and Phil! I like how we can never really tell what he's plotting or what he truly knows! Wil and Tommy are easier since they're younger and less used to the whole long term tactics thing (also we've had more time with them) but Phil is a very smart boy and is very clearly enjoying the mental chess he has to do with Tech. He definitely knows somethings up with Techno but I don't think he's worked out the quirky little update the blood god installed into his new baby boy. Though the random 100 mile stare that Tech keeps taking on might just be the hint Phil needs.

As always, I'm sorry if I've overstepped or overwhelmed you (I'm just very excited about the chap, I've reread it like 4 times already lmao) and I hope you feel better soon since being sick always sucks!

Welcome back, my refried friend 💚 I absolutely welcome your messages.

It is such a struggle to write Technoblade resisting the Family Dynamic because I want cuddles NOW. But it's just...not realistic. Technoblade's character is too stubborn for that, he's been kidnapped, he's not just going to roll over and accept that. If he didn't accept being under the thumb of the church for 19 years, he's not going to fall into line with a couple of words and a nice bowl of soup. He's traumatized, untrusting, angry, chafing under his lack of control. Which means I don't get to write cuddles yet.

Forced hug, on the other hand.

Wilbur in this is having a hard time. He is certain that if he can just get Technoblade to listen to him, he could explain everything. And maybe he could! But Technoblade has no intention to hear him out. Which is FRUSTRATING for Wilbur, who hasn't had to convince someone to listen to him without a little supernatural aid in a LONG TIME. He's out of practice with it. He has always been a charismatic person, even before being a vampire. But maybe, JUST MAYBE, he got a little lazy and relied a bit too much on thralling. Totally not something Philza has tried to tell before all of this.

Unfortunately, he is also impatient now. He's HAD nice moments with Technoblade. And he wants MORE nice moments with Technoblade. And he just wants to quickly get past this "little hiccup" so they can get back to that.

Except, its more than a "little hiccup". The problem with not associating with many people who aren't slightly afraid of you is that you kind of forget how to actually TALK to people. Like, is he a convincing silver-tongued spy? Yes. Does he really understand how his words affect people emotionally? Not really. He's good at manipulating and gaslighting, not so much at forming meaningful relationships.

He's just the slightest bit stupid when it comes to emotions.

Also, Technoblade's not going to just grab ONE sharp object, come on. He wants a backup knife at LEAST.

Tommy is going to have very...interesting interactions with Technoblade. And it will certainly be much different than Wilbur's approach.

Philza is a-scheming, for sure. He knows he is coming into this with bad blood (pun absolutely intended). And, as chaotic as he can be at times, he is also a tactician. I won't call him patient because he definitely is NOT patient. A patient man doesn't just kidnap people. But he is willing to take a step back and find the best approach, as you said.

Also, I cackled at your comparison to Chat as if it was an OS Update. That is incredibly funny AND accurate lololol.

Of course, you never bother me. And hopefully it won't be long before I am better. But I can't get to the doctor until tomorrow. Fingers crossed for all good news, on that front.

#🌯🗡anon #lenn writes #anonymous #ask and ye shall receive #to be truly free

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league-of-sam · 1 year

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Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

Splashes of water as cold and sharp as ice cut at your face as you sped across the surface of the ocean, packed into a boat with Graves, Soap and Alejandro.

You had managed to contact Shepherd, who found that there was an oil rig only 400 miles off the coast, where the cartel had been using it as a dead drop, with a cargo ship anchored not 500 meters away. There, a large container was seen on surveillance being moved from the ship to the rig.

If the missile was anywhere, it'd be there.

Ghost was leading the first team boat, comprising of him and Shadow Company. They would be infiltrating the ship. You and Alejandro made up the second team, heading to the rig along with the third team; Soap and Graves.

Your clothing and tactical gear was soaked through, mask now completely stuck to your face. You clutched your gun in your hands, listening as the others reviewed the plan.

On arrival, you were the first to leave the boat, Alejandro boosting you up to the metal bars. Once you were up, you began expertly climbing, weaving in and out of the structure. The others opted to climb up using the ropes, but you were no stranger to a little acrobatics.

"Reaper, slow down! We're not up and ready yet." Graves said through your comms.

"Negative, Shadow." you grunted, "haul ass."

Despite your method being supposedly slower, you reached the platform before they did, and had taken out three unsuspecting guards while you waited.

"Damn, Reaper." Graves said as he reached the platform.

"I don't know why you keep acting so surprised." you said, offering your hand to pull him over.

The minute the teams were on the platform, you split off, all of you putting your various training and skills to the ultimate test.

You went ahead alone, opting to use your knives where you could.

The others were just slowing you down.

"Shadow to Reaper, where the hell are you?"

"Clearing staircase to main deck." you grunted, slamming your knife into the body in front of you before pushing him overboard.

"Already?"

"When the Reaper comes, death is sure to follow." you said, making your voice gravelly and low.

A chuckle erupted over comms, "Was that supposed to be Batman?"

"Yes, Soap, it was. You tryin' to tell me it wasn't?"

"6-2, 7-1. Focus up."

"Boo, you're no fun, Ghost."

"Oh really?"

You decided not to answer, only smirking as you stood cockily on the stairs, watching the rest of your team weave around the bodies as they came to you.

"Reaper on your left!" Soap yelled to you.

As you turned, a cartel member ran at you full speed, clearly with the intent of trying to push you overboard. With the dark of the night and the rain pouring, it made it difficult to spot him, and he managed to get you down, cutting your arm with a knife.

You let out an angered yell, using all the strength you had to lift the man with your legs, kicking him backwards over the railing.

A little move that Alex had taught you.

"Reaper! Baby you good?" Graves said, pushing Soap out of the way to help you off the ground.

Your arm was bleeding, a gash along your bicep. He moved your arm to look, and you winced.

"You okay, carino?" Alejandro said once he caught up to you.

"Yeah, 'm good." you nodded, ripping a strip from your shirt to bind the wound. "Let's go."

Bursting through the doors, you rolled over to avoid the incoming fire, shooting your own bullets into the cartel men, all of them taking their last breath. The others followed you in as Ghost confirmed his status on the boat.

"All Shadows, force out! I want eyes on that container now!"

You followed your team outside, shooting as best as you could as the rain drove down on top of you. It was almost impossible to see.

"Shadow-1, Ghost, visual on flares coming from the rig! What's your status, over?"

"They're signalling the ship! They're gonna launch that missile!" Soap yelled back.

The pace of everyone quickened, then, as panic set in.

If that missile went, there's no telling the damage it'd cause.

With Soap and Alejandro covering, you and Graves nodded to each other, and ran for the missile. You were slipping and sliding, rolling and tumbling, vaulting over various bits of machinery that was in your path to get there.

Bullets mixed with rain, your hair was slick to your head, eyes barely open as you squinted to see.

Oh my god.

The missile was in sight.

"Actual, this is Shadow-1. Rig is secure. Moving onto the container now." Graves communicated.

"Roger that. Confirm when the objective is neutralised." Shepherd responded.

Soap had caught up to the two of you, pulling the doors of the container open, only to find it completely empty.

"Where are the controls?" he said.

"On that damn ship."

"Ghost! The controls aren't here! They're on the ship!" you said, turning to run back to the boats.

"Copy that, Boo."

You ran as quick as your feet could carry you on the slippery metal of the deck, winding down to find Alejandro, the two of you taking overwatch.

Soap and Graves jumped back into one of the boats, speeding to the ship. Ghost's yelling could be heard, saying he'd found the missile controls on the bridge. You watched in horror as their boat crash landed onto the ship, sniping any enemy that came even remotely close to your boys.

"Alejandro, maintain overwatch from the rig! We're forcing up." Ghost said.

"Copy that, hermano! (Y/N) and I have got you covered."

The sounds coming through the comms were pure chaos, as everyone yelled out orders and directions of enemies.

It was a full on battle.

Finally, the team was able to make it to the bridge, taking out the last of the cartel members and securing the missile controls.

"Eyes on the controls, tappin' in...Fuck! We can't disarm it."

"Why?" Ghost asked.

"It's too late."

"What? You have to!" you yelled.

"There's no abort code?" Said Soap.

"Yeah, well that window's closed on that, boys...Gold Eagle, Actual, this is Shadow-1. Missile's in boost phase about to burn, how copy?"

"Solid, Shadow. If we can't disarm, then we detonate."

"What? Sir, surely not?" you said to Shepherd.

Just another reason you didn't trust him.

"Soap, get on the controls - we're gonna have to do this together. Now the clock is ticking. So we gotta move, brother. Alright?"

You and Alejandro could do nothing but listen as they ran through the process, trying to divert the missile.

"We're gonna take out the oil rig with the missile." Shepherd instructed.

"Alejandro and Reaper are back there with the Shadows." Soap interjected.

"Oh my god- Reaper, all stations, clear the rig now, I say again- clear the rig!"

You did not need to be told twice by Ghost to burst into action.

Dragging Alejandro by his hand, and yelling to the other Shadows, you ran through the decks, not even paying attention to your comms anymore.

That missile was gonna blow in less than a minute, and you will die if you're anywhere near it when it does.

You jumped into the boat, everyone piling in before a Shadow set it full speed, floating you away from the carnage. As you pulled up next to the ship, you turned, just in time to see the missile fly into the air.

Stood next to Alejandro, you marvelled - despite being so deadly, it was a fucking sight. The blast went off, erupting the ocean. You could hear the shattering of glass above you, the black of the night sky lit up a magnificent mixture of oranges and yellows. Alejandro had turned you, shielding you from any debris that may have come your way.

"Steamin' bloody jesus." You heard Soap mutter.

"Alejandro, you okay?"

"Holy mother of God- that was fucking crazy, man!" he said from next to you, shaking you slightly from his excitement.

"You safe?" Soap asked.

"Yeah, you?"

"All good here, hermano."

"Reaper you good?" Ghost asked.

"That was fuckin' insane! I understand why Soap wanks over demolition videos now."

"Oh my god for the last time I don't do that-"

That was it.

Mission complete.

Getting back to the cars waiting ashore, you reunited with the other half of the team, sharing hugs with Soap.

Ghost approached you, gently taking your arm in his hand, pulling off your makeshift bandage. You let out a hiss, the pain now catching up to you now that the adrenaline of the mission had worn off.

You looked up at him, his eyes filled with a level of concern that made your heart flutter.

Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off.

"Ride with me, my Shadow medic can patch you up." Graves said, walking over to stand with the two of you.

"I'm more than capable of patching myself up-"

"Go with him, Price. Get it done properly." Ghost said, dropping your arm.

Your own hand went to grasp at the wound, the loss of Ghost somehow making it hurt more. You went to protest, but he'd already walked away, and you caught the back of him climbing into the last car with Soap.

"C'mon, darlin'." Graves spoke softly, placing a supportive hand on the back of your shoulder.

You frowned, but turned to look at your ex-fiancé, nodding. He grinned widely, and led you to the car.

The journey back to the compound was silent, aside from Graves reporting to Shepherd in hushed tones, or constantly turning to make sure that his medic was taking good care of you. By the time you were pulling up to the gates, you had fresh stitches and a clean bandage.

You watched through the window as your car was allowed past the checkpoint, but then a hand went up, stopping your teams cars from proceeding. Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap exited their vehicle, only to be cut off by Shadow soldiers.

"What are they doing?" you said to Graves.

He turned, sighing, "This'll just take a minute, stay here."

With that, he got out of the car, leaving you in it with the medic and one other soldier.

"Fuck that." you said, and swung the door open, jumping out and slamming it behind you.

"What's this?" Alejandro said.

"This is the immediate future." Graves replied. "Damn it, (Y/N), I said stay in the car."

"What the fuck are you doing?" you said.

You moved your hand to rest on the pistol strapped to your sides, looking from Alejandro, to Soap, to Ghost, with panicked eyes. There was five Shadows and Graves between them and you.

Something wasn't right.

"Step away from the gate."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish

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watching-pictures-move · 1 year

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Movie Review | London Has Fallen (Najafi, 2016)

Despite being released a few months before the 2016 election, this feels like it could be a key cinematic text of the Trump era, in that it essentially has the same politics of films that defined the Bush and Reagan eras, but is substantially lower rent and less glamorous. As this movie argues, when it comes down to it, all of America's allies are entirely useless in a crisis situation, and only when America takes matters into its own hands (personified in a key moment by the President himself picking up a gun to off a terrorist, which is immediately met with a quip about coming out of the closet) can it defeat the legions of swarthy foreigners who hate it for its freedoms.

At one point the hero, secret service agent and presidential bodyguard played by Gerard Butler says that from hereon out, they must assume that everybody they run into is an "asshole terrorist", at which point the movie graduates from eyeing every brown extra suspiciously to gleefully gunning them down. There's no covering of the ass with a guy from said demographic in the control room. Torture in American movies has become depressingly commonplace, to the point that the Rambo series, whose hero suffered PTSD from being tortured during the Vietnam War, and which previously only featured torture to highlight its villains' sadism, has in its fifth installment turned around on the subject to the point that the hero wholeheartedly employs it without remorse. But there is a certain boldness in this movie's depiction of torture, which the hero repeatedly employs but admits serves no real tactical purpose. After he twists his knife into an opponent for an agonizing length of time (or maybe he was choking him out, apologies if I got my torture scenes confused), the President asks him, "Was that really necessary?" To which he responds, without missing a beat, "No." All of this is punctuated by endless speechifying by the hero about the greatness of the American empire as he brutally kills any number of terrorists. "You know what you assholes don't get? We're not a fucking building! We're not a fucking flag! We're not just one man! Assholes like you have been trying to kill us for a long fucking time. But you know what? A thousand years from now, we'll still fucking be here!"

The fact that the movie offers no apology or no bet hedging with its politics is interesting to reconcile with the fact that the director, Babak Najafi, was born in Iran and whose family was separated and fled to Sweden as a result of the Iran-Iraq War. If one wanted to, they could read this movie as a sly satire of this kind of action movie, and certain choices, like when the movie dissolves from the dust cloud in the aftermath of a drone strike to the flags on the presidential motorcade, can support that reading. But I do think we need to be wary of reducing artists down to biographical or demographic details, which can carry its own kind of condescension, especially when we don't have much else to go off in the way of their work. It's perfectly possible that Najafi took this on as a journeyman, or sympathizes with the views expressed by the movie.

I mentioned earlier how low rent this feels. Rambo: First Blood Part II and Bad Boys 2 looked like they had sizable budgets. The Delta Force, whose brand of racism this likely takes most after, benefited immensely from location shooting (and let its villain be an actual character rendered with an actual performance by the great Robert Forster, who has about a minute of screentime here). This depicts London with a number of totally unconvincing establishing shots and otherwise keeps the lighting dim and the settings nondescript to hide the fact that it was shot in Bulgaria. And while a budget of $60 million these days only gets you so far, the big special effects sequences here look like something out of an Asylum movie. (What should be cool enough helicopter shit to save this movie ends up being irreparably lame as a result.) But at the same time, there are stretches of strong B-movie craft, like the shot that trails the smoke grenade, or the digitally enhanced long take, which understands that the power of such sequences is less about feigned technical virtuosity than in navigating the geography from the hero's perspective and building forward momentum. And it does spend its approximately hour and a half runtime letting its hero brutally kills bad guys at a steady pace.

So if I had to summarize this movie, it's like a sloppily wrapped, extremely greasy cheeseburger that makes you feel like you're inching closer to the grave but also kinda, sorta hits the spot, served by a racist McDonald's employee who's making everybody uncomfortable by not shutting the fuck up about their awful views.

#film #movie review #london has fallen #babak najafi

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pyrasterran · 2 years

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Led by Glory Guard, the Lions of Justice, the highest ranking ENU-sanctioned superhero team on Earth. The Lions are Earth's last line of defense against the most powerful of supervillains and Great Beasts.

Euryale is second-in-command, and considered one of the smartest women on Earth. Her Astral Drift is "Crux Gorgon". It allows growth and manipulation of her hair, enhancing them on the molecular level to be able to camouflage in her surroundings, block gunfire and pierce through steel. The individual hair follicles are toxic, and when used to pierce human flesh can release a paralyzing agent into the body. Euryale is in her element as a stealth operative, using subterfuge to confound enemies and complete mission objectives.

Psynopsis is, in terms of firepower, the weakest on the team. Nevertheless she is crucial to the effectiveness of the team and singlehandedly responsible for many of their past victories. Psynopsis' Astral Drift is "Review Absolute". With enough time, Psynopsis can analyze a target and gain a general understanding for a wide variety of attributes about them. Their past, what they may be hiding, even their Astral Drift and possible weaknesses eventually become known to Psynopsis after enough analysis. As supervillains will do what they can to keep their Astral Drift's weaknesses and properties secret, and Great Beasts are certainly not going to explain their reasons for rampage, Psynopsis' analysis on the field becomes the lynchpin of nearly all successful missions. With unknown machinery and equipment, with enough analyzation Psynopsis can get a general idea on how to operate them (or whether doing so could lead to a trap). An advanced HUD added to her mask lets her pick up even more beyond her regular sight, augmenting her Astral Drift further. Combining her healing talents with Review Absolute's ability to analyze injuries, poisons, etc. also makes her the team's go-to medic.

Magi Rosa is the newest member of the Lions of Justice. As arguably the team's flashiest member, ranks as most popular tied with Glory Guard. Her Astral Drift is "Element Rose". Just as the name implies, Magi Rosa can conjure roses and thorny vines of either fire, water (or ice), or electricity. Their sizes and properties between these three states can vary as she deems, so a fire rose can simply be a torch or instead be a bomb as she wills it. Magi Rosa can also command and convert these elements on the field into new roses for her to command, making attacks of fire, water, ice or electricity null against the team. With her mastery over the three elements, Magi Rosa both a swiss army knife of combat capabilities and a massive boon during natural disaster missions. Fires, floods, live wires, all become fuel for elemental roses, eliminating hazards that can harm civilians.

Beedrive is the team's fastest member. His Astral Drift is "Hymenoptera Rex". Beedrive is able to command members of the Hymenoptera family, including wasps, bees and sawflies. Beedrive can command clouds that can cover buildings, and see through their eyes. The insects' scouting and infiltration potential are obvious as is their ability to overwhelm many villains, but on top of this, Beedrive is able to imbue the cloud with his Astra, fortifying the insects' bodies and granting them his speed. Practically, this allows the cloud to keep up with Beedrive as well as make beeline tackles that hit like bullets, giving Beedrive effective long range firepower against many supervillains. Beedrive's scouting synergizes with Psynopsis' Astral Drift, while his superspeed makes for effective defensive support (able to move teammates out of the way of attacks swiftly and safely) and distraction tactics against stronger opponents. Against Great Beasts, however, his options are limited, and he generally focuses on search and rescue in such situations.

Thundercrash is the second strongest member on the team. His Astral Application has fortified his defenses to be nearly as durable and strong as Glory Guard. Thundercrash's Astral Drift is "Rude Vibrations". Thundercrash can vibrate his own molecules to either allow himself to phase through solid objects or generate powerful sonic turbulence, strong enough to create sonic booms with a thought. With this much power in his hands he is frequently out in the front lines with Glory Guard against Great Beasts and the toughest supervillains. These frequencies do not have to be purely explosive, however; Thundercrash can adjust the frequencies of sound coming off his vibrations at such fine degrees that he can make them imperceptible to his opponents, yet still cause them vertigo as their inner ears are attacked and their equilibrium rocked. Thanks to his Astral Drift combined with his fortified body and enhanced strength, Thundercrash has received the nickname "Earth's Greatest Duelist" able to defeat most opponents in a one-on-one fight through the combination of his debilitating sonic frequencies and super strength. Were it not for his lack of flight, he might have been the number one ranked hero instead of Glory Guard.

#lions of justice #superheroes #comics #astral drift #original characters #character art #ocs #psynopsis #beedrive #magi rosa #thundercrash #euryale

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