#the next 50 years :/ probably like half of you will make it. it could hit at any time btw’

[surskip]

As a kid I had this “10 most dangerous natural disasters in the world” book and the only thing I can remember is I would only get enough courage to maybe read 2 pages every like, month, and each new item on the list gave me nightmares for like 4 weeks. I would lay in bed awake at night going “Fuuuuck….. there’s going to be earthquakes and meteors and that mountain over there will erupt and im going to die….” And make evacuation plans in my head. None of it was even rational I was just a very scared kid. A year or two prior I got really scared of this jaws-themed valentines card my dad got my mom because I was convinced the sound it played (the jaws theme) would summon sharks that could swim on land to my location and I got around the house for like a month dashing between furniture like a floor is lava game.

[somerunner]

In my high school, all you needed to get a varsity letter in cross country was, I think, to get under 19 minutes on a 5K. Most of the varsity letter requirements for other sports were similarly easy to meet. Our school wasn't known for athletics.

My first race was a little under 22 minutes long, and every year I struggled to get my time lower than 19:50.

My senior year, I had hit puberty, so I had more strength and cardiovascular fitness than before. I figured I would make it this time, and I trained as optimally as I could. I followed the coaches' directions more closely (my brother and I were once told that, given our fitness, we should never run slower than 9 minutes a mile for an easy run; it took until senior year for me to actually follow that advice). I ate well, slept...probably poorly, and I felt pretty fit compared to previous years. My dad bought me and my brothers Garmin Forerunners, which are GPS watches that can tell you your pace in the middle of a race. He came to as many of our races as he could all throughout high school, and our mom did too (she came to our middle school races in addition to high school ones -- it was no fault of our dad's, not to come to our middle school races; I find it impressive and touching that he made it to almost all of my high school ones. In middle school it was always some random distance so we never really had a consistent distance to truly compete against ourselves with. High school had bigger teams and each race always right around five kilometers, with one notable exception).

The watches helped a lot. (I still have mine from back then, but it struggles to hold a charge for a full run unless you've kept it in the charger until the minute you go running. I don't use it quite as much; I've misplaced my charger too often, and I don't want to look for it a day in advance just so my watch can tell me my strides per minute (arguably important, but I digress). I can't pace myself any better than in high school, but I don't need to because there's no exact season or race I'm training for -- though for something big, like a marathon, I will actually use the watch. My phone can record my pace for less-important runs.)

Anyway. Back to the point. I hadn't broken 19 minutes my whole senior year, and we were down to one last race. I was anxious the whole last week. The last three days, I could practically feel adrenaline seeping into every capillary like I was a sponge. It felt good, unsurprisingly to me (though that may be surprising to you). I felt ready.

The last meet was big, full of schools. I'd just learned from my dad (either that day, or just before some other race in the past week or two) that the "strides," or short almost-sprints you do a few minutes before a race, are actually important -- they prime your body for that first 100-meter dash where you stake your position for the next mile. If you don't do your strides, you'll dip into anaerobic metabolism early, and your legs might be locked up halfway through the race, and that's bye-bye sub-19:00.

I felt like I weighed like nothing. My entire body was a spring. Side note: if you've never put on racing flats/spikes, I encourage you to borrow a pair for a short run (and I mean short! Like 100 meters if you don't run, and a mile or two if you do run). It feels like there's a weightless force field on your foot, with how light it is compared to a normal shoe. It's a surreal feeling.

When we started the race, I felt a touch desperate. I ran only a little slower than my best; you're supposed to hold yourself back for the first mile. I knew that, but I glanced at my watch to see that I was averaging a 5:00/mile pace. That was WAY beyond my target pace, and I barely even noticed. That was heartening to see, but I obviously dialed the pace way, way back to 5:45/mile or something. I needed this record-breaking adrenaline to last me for three miles, not half of one.

Frankly, all I remember of that race was that first 200-meter dash and the disconnect between what I felt and what I saw on my watch. I always have that disconnect during a race, but it was especially pronounced during this race.

The next two miles were hard but good, and I broke 19. I got a massive personal record (PR) to end my high school career with; I think it was more than a minute of improved time. Which is rather insane. Improvement tends to be more incremental than that, but things like this do happen pretty often in running, especially at the relatively slow paces I ran at.

My brother broke 19 and 18 in the same race. Just skipped right over the whole 18-minutes-something-seconds window. I was over the moon for him, of course. We'd both made it past the lettering-qualification by the skin of our teeth, and at the same time, by a huge margin.

He's kept up with consistent running more than I have. He's also gotten me back into running after I semi-gave up on it, and our older brother's gotten back into running too. We, along with our dad, decided to run a marathon/half-marathon together this summer. I'd say we all did well, though I didn't train as much for it as I should have.

I've only ran one marathon so far, and it was recent, but now I'm feeling the itch. I want to run another one, I want to absolutely demolish my time. Admittedly, this is partially because I didn't practice as much as I should have, and I've seen my brothers' times, so I know how much farther I can go.

If you've come close to your (previous) best at something, you might have realized too that it was only a false summit. Could be a project within your hobby, could be a physical accomplishment, it could be anything that requires some level of effort large or small. But I hope, when you realized you could do even better than you just did, that it felt inspiring.

It's kind of a rush.

[struwberrii]

Hi! I love your American high school headcanons! Do you have any headcanons for the Karasuno third years hehehe

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⋆⭒˚.⋆

thank you for the request!! hopefully u all enjoy ^.^

pt. 1, pt.2

characters: tanaka, noya, kiyoko, sugawara, daichi, asahi

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

tanaka

there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll actually show up to class

drives the most beat up busted car with no tint and no bumper

he and noya in the parking lot blasting music with the windows down

cafeteria lunch defender

probably pulled the fire alarm at some point as a joke

teachers have to tell him to pull his pants up bc he sags 😭

speaker in his bookbag

has been high in class multiple times

literally has no school supplies

does interview in the halls with his phone as a mic and is constantly getting humbled by pretty girls

somehow pulled kiyoko (everyone rips on her for dating him)

falls asleep in class and snores

bro is not graduating 😭

he and noya troll teachers

noya

uses a children’s bookbag bc he thinks it’s funny (people think he’s actually a child)

tanakas #1 meat rider

always making mildly gay comments and everyone in their friend group gets so mad at him

gym try hard

doesn’t have a car but skips in the bathroom sometimes

probably smoked one time and saw literal demons now he’s too scared to ever do it again 😭

his mom drops him off at school

another boy the girls have to hit with the “hear me out”

actually gets his work done but hardly passes

brings like whole family packs of cookies for lunch

crocs all day everyday

makes fart noises in class then blames it on other people

let’s his friends hype him up to ‘rizz’ up girls and 9/10 the girls laugh at him (poor guy lol)

kiyoko

unproblematic and everyone loves her

guys probably spread rumors about her when she rejects them but nobody believes them

you either want to be her or be with her

half ap classes

accidentally starts trends (like fashion trends)

tries to help tanaka with his work but he doesn’t ever pay attention

the only thing people criticize her for is going with tanaka 😭

quiet and keeps to herself

takes super neat notes

drives a pretty nice car and it always smells like japanese cherry blossom

always has one airpod in too

probably class buddies with suga and asahi

girls in the grades below her view her as like big sister

takes low effort instagram pictures and always ends up on the explore page with thousands of likes

suga

takes ap classes

the best and safest driver and offers everyone rides

sketches and doodles on the corners of all his assignments and notes

color coordinated notes with pastel highlighters

people think he’s gay but he just likes cute stuff

shit talks with teachers

everyone trusts him and he is very reliable

boy next door

has the cutest keychains and pins on his bag

‘takes notes’ on his ipad but actually just plays roblox

probably has a job at like a pet store or bakery

daichi

him and suga are the unexpected best friends bc they’re so different

spends all his free periods in the gym working out

has social media but never uses it

drives a truck but isn’t annoying about it

curbs #1 enemy

has really random knowledge about dumb stuff, like you could be complaining about your ankle hurting and he knows exactly how to fix it

he does not tolerate disrespect, shuts it down real quick.

plays cod during his free time

takes all regular classes but his grades never fall below 90s (As)

him suga and asahi get lunch together off campus at least 3 times a week and he always drives

working out 24/7

asahi

works at barnes and noble or a coffee shop

has a car but never drives because it makes him anxious

gets rides from suga

plays word cookies in class

smells really good and citrus y all the time

the craziest rumors go around about him, like about him being a grown man and being held back or being a criminal

nicest guy in the entire school

staff has stopped him in the halls multiple times because they thought he was a grown man and had to see his school ID 😭

always gets vending machine frappes

dresses like a youth counselor

watches movies during class

underclassman call him unc

[starry-bi-sky]

Part six of "Clone Danny"

When the Waynes leave, Danny can finally relax. Even if he's once again hit with a lingering regret that worms itself into his core like a little parasite. The final night that they're there, Bruce Wayne is not downstairs waiting for him, much to Danny's faint, lingering disappointment. He kinda liked talking to him, even if he kept it brief. Probably for the best.

Damian was still there when he returned with a sprained ankle and more ectoplasm burns. Danny tries not to make his limp obvious when he enters, and his clothing smells faintly of sulfur and burnt fabric.

Damian tells him he stinks, and Danny tells him he ran into a ghost. "The Phantom took care of it." He says, gripping his mask in his pocket tightly and avoiding putting weight on his injured foot. His thermos is pressed next to it. His fingers are freezing.

"Ah yes, your vigilante." Damian replies, "The one with the bat." And Danny can see the outline of his eyes narrowing at him.

"Can we really call him a vigilante when the people he's fighting are ghosts?" Danny asks, avoiding the 'bat' comment and leaning against the back of the kitchen chair.

"Did you actually lose your bat, Fenton?" Damian's fingers tap against his arm, refusing to move on. "Despite your ridiculous behavior and attempts to avoid my father and I, I find it hard to believe that the son of two ghost hunters would be as foolish as to forget his only weapon of defense against ghosts."

Ah, so he noticed that. Danny was half tempted to mutter that the bat wasn't his only weapon of defense. He still had his beloved jawbreakers. He's quiet, wondering how to respond to implication that he might be Phantom -- he can't believe Damian picked that up in only a few short days when nobody has caught on in little over a year -- before shrugging.

"I may have given it to the Phantom instead." He says, propping his arm up to put his chin in his hand, trying to look innocent while his heart skipped an anxious beat.

It's probably not the answer Damian wants, but when his word is the only proof he has, Danny doesn't think he should be too worried about it. Even if it meant that a second person outside his friend and enemy circle knew his identity.

He excuses himself shortly after, leaning heavily against the railing to try and hop up the stairs.

(Much to his surprise, Damian follows and lets Danny put his weight on him. He complains that its because Danny will wake his father if he allows him to bumble up the stairs on one foot.)

(Danny ruffles his hair again when they reach the top, and limps towards his bedroom.)

===

Its three months and a handful of new injuries before Danny thinks about the Waynes again. A new ghost appeared in town who called itself Riftgate and he was capable of creating teleport portals to anywhere in the world.

He was a fucking pain in the ass to fight, costing Danny three hours of his night where he could have been sleeping and nearly his hand. Danny gets dragged through the other side before finally shoving Rift inside the thermos.

But he also ends up nearly 900 miles away in fucking Gotham of all places on the top of an empty roof. Great, juuuust great. Danny is tired, he is grumpy, and he is in a city so laden with ectoplasm that he can all but taste it on his tongue. Or maybe that was just the air quality.

He can't even see the stars here, and his mood worsens.

Well, he's too fucking tired to bother handling this right now. There's no way Sam or Tucker are able to help him considering their distance, and right now Danny just wants to sleep. Maybe after that he can figure out a way home.

So he does, sort of. He walks over to the door and doesn't bother trying to open it, even if there was a 50/50 chance of it being unlocked. (This was Gotham after all.) Instead he sweeps the ground with his foot and curls up at door and he's out like a light.

....Only to be woken up by hissed muttering close to his ear and a gloved hand pressing into the pulse of his neck. "No I don't know if they're dead but I don't think so." Says the unfamiliar voice, and Danny opens a bleary eye.

"He's breathing, but his pulse is too slow to be normal. I think he needs help." The voice, a boy, -- no, Red Robin, great -- continues, and Danny looks beside him to see who he was talking to. No one. "He's probably part of some kind of gang, his mask kind of reminds me of Hood's."

Danny just barely remembers that he's still dressed up as Phantom before he tiredly signs, "I'm not part of a fucking gang." and pushes the boy's hand off.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

will make a masterpost soon

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 32

Chapter 32 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Buck wakes up to find no one except Chris and Eddie in his hospital room, the more time passes, the more he questions why no one else is there. Eddie has to explain what went down while he was out, before another bombshell is dropped on them.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slow burn)

Warnings: ableism mention, emotionally abusive parents mention, insecurity, self loathing, injury, homophobia mention, referenced near death experience

~~~

Chapter 32: Breaking the News

Buck feels groggy and bone tired as he tries to pull himself to consciousness. A part of his brain registers beeping and the sterile smell of a hospital – which he is very familiar with due to the line of work he’s in, his kid and the injury prone people he surrounds himself with – but it’s not yet connecting that to what that might mean.

He is yanked out of his limbo by Chris, who half clambers on top of him as he yells: “Papi! You’re awake!”

Behind him, he can hear Eddie call out: “Mijo, be careful! He’s hurt,” while Buck fully opens his eyes and clicks the pieces together that he’s in the hospital, because he’s hurt.

Once he has the realization that he’s injured, the dull ache that comes with being medicated hits him with full force. He hasn’t been in a hospital like this since he was a teen, but he still knows the feeling well and gathers that he’s broken a bone at least.

With momentous effort he moves his arm, hugging Chris to his chest as he lazily croaks: “Hey, buddy.”

“You’ve been asleep for forever,” Chris complains. “It was so boring.”

“Because he had to rest,” Eddie explains, with a gentle tone that informs Buck he’s explained it a hundred times before, as he appears on Buck’s other side. He holds a glass of water so Buck can drink with a: “Here.”

“Thanks,” Buck smiles, taking a sip. He knows that he got stuck under that engine, but he barely remembers anything after he was pulled out from under it, except the blinding pain. He desperately wants to know what happened, but he doesn’t want to traumatize Chris by asking.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Chris happily says: “But he’s done resting now, right?”

Eddie, however, is a little more in tune with Buck, so he says: “Well, he’s not done resting, but he can be awake for a little bit. But he’d probably like a snack for breakfast, so why don’t you and Carla go pick out a chocolate bar for him?”

Chris pulls a thinking face for a moment, considering the request from his perch on the bed next to Buck. On the one hand, picking out a chocolate bar is fun and a highly important task to a seven year old, on the other hand, he doesn’t want to leave Buck’s side.

Buck’s heart melts a little and under different circumstances, he would have loved nothing more than to keep Chris there, but he does really want to know the verdict. So, to encourage Chris, he says: “You know daddy has horrible breakfast taste.”

That makes Chris giggle and he whispers way too loud to actually be a whisper: “He does, he wanted a Bounty.”

“Oh, that is bad,” Buck agrees, pulling a face, wanting to muffle his laughter and failing.

“Yeah, yeah, I can hear you,” Eddie mock complains, as he moves to lift Chris off the bed. “Go have better taste than me, huh, buddy.”

“Don’t worry, daddy, I’ll find you something better too,” Chris informs him cheerily with a bit of little shit thrown in, before he and Carla leave the room.

For a second, Buck meets Eddie’s eyes, the two of them sharing a fond smile at Chris’s antics, before reality sets in again. Scared and tentative, Buck says: “I, uh- I remember it being bad. What did the doctors say?”

Eddie hesitates for a second. Eddie never hesitates like that, so Buck braces for the worst. “Uhm, well, you’re now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four cobalt-chromed screws. Surgery went okay for how you were looking coming in. They’re expecting you to walk again.”

Relief washes over him, mixing in with confusion. “But that’s great, right? Why are you still looking like you got sentenced to the gallows?”

“It got pretty close for a second there,” Eddie admits, looking shaken. The only time he ever looked like that is the day Buck met him at the Johnson farm. Softly he says: “They nearly amputated, you’re gonna have chronic pain for the rest of the life. You’re gonna walk, but they’re not sure if you’re gonna work, Buck.”

“Wh- What?” Buck chokes as he struggles to place the information.

Remembering the accident, he knew it was bad, I mean, he got tossed out of an exploding fire engine that then landed on him. He assumed it would be bad, further confirmed by Eddie sending Chris away to break the news, but that… that is a lot.

He’s been in a lot of accidents, but he’s always come out unscathed. It’s ridiculous with the line of work he’s in, with what he sees every day, but a part of him never believed something truly bad could actually happen to him, yet here he is, faced with the reality that that just isn’t how the world works.

If he’s honest with himself, it’s not even the chronic pain part or the nearly amputated that gets to him. He knows that chronic pain is nothing to sniff at, and he’s absolutely not looking forward to figuring out how bad it’s going to get, and while loosing a leg would have been a massive adjustment, it’s not the end of the world. No, what gets to him is that they’re not sure he’s gonna work again.

When Eddie says it, he knows it’s about firefighting. Both of them know that this is his job. He might have only started because it was the best option with his level of education and the income they needed, but he fell in love with it.

Buck is a firefighter to the core.

It’s not as if he’s only a firefighter of course, he’s a father, a brother, a friend, even a husband – though he tries not to think about the last one too much, because it always messes with his heart – but those are personal. In his profession, a firefighter is all he wants to be.

But just because he wants to be that, doesn’t mean he’ll get to. The doctors aren’t sure he’s going to work again. If he wants to be a firefighter, he’ll need to re-certify after an injury like this and he might never make the cut again.

Then he’ll have to find another job. A new job. A job he’ll probably hate, or at least won’t be as good as what he has now. He’s done it before, many times already, but the thought alone is still enough to make him feel ill.

“Hey, don’t- don’t do that. They’re not sure, with your stubbornness, who knows what will happen,” Eddie snaps him back to the room. It’s a little stilted and stunted, but he means it.

Buck is sure his eyes are still devastated, but he manages a watery smile: “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, we’re practically PT experts at this point, right?”

“Yeah, Chris is already excited about giving you all the tips.” There is a clear relief in Eddie’s voice when Buck reacts like that instead of breaking down into tears, something Buck would make fun of him for just a little, if he weren’t still feeling so fragile.

“Can’t wait,” he says, trying to mean it and semi-succeeding.

Before they can get into it more, Chris and Carla return triumphantly with arms full of vending machine snacks. The second he sees him, his enthusiasm and smile become real. “Oh wow, Superman, that’s quite the haul. Lemme figure out these buttons so I can sit up.”

Chris proudly shows off the candy and chocolate, going into great detail about why he chose the things he did. Buck has never found any other talk more interesting than this one. Whatever will happen with his job, this at least, will still be here. He won’t lose his family.

He eats his chocolate bar with Chris squeezed in beside him. He still feels a little groggy and maybe a little scared too, but he’s managing pretty well all things considered.

After a bit a doctor comes by to check on him. He doesn’t know her, but Eddie seems like he does, giving her an awkward half smile. When Buck sees that he quirks a brow at him, curious why she’s getting that reaction, but Eddie only gives him a shake of the head, before he nods to tell Buck he needs to pay attention to what she’s doing.

Then Eddie quickly leaves the room with Chris for a bathroom trip and a coffee run. Tea for Buck, since he’s not allowed coffee yet.

When the doctor is gone, Buck asks Carla: “What was up between Eddie and the doctor?” He can’t imagine what would make Eddie uncomfortable like that. Maybe he flirted with her? Or vise versa and it didn’t go well? But that seems out of character. Still, it’s not entirely unplausible and the thought knots his stomach.

“I wasn’t there for it, but when she came to break the news about you, it got ugly in the waiting room, especially when she suggested they’d amputate,” Carla tells him.

Not what he expected, but better than he feared. Eddie was probably upset at the thought or something, or angry on his behalf that this was his fate and now likely feels awkward about what was a messy altercation about it. The thought makes him feel warm and his stomach untangles itself.

He smiles at Eddie when he comes back into the room. Eddie studies him for a second, before deciding it looks genuine and he returns the smile. As always, the sight of that smile makes Buck’s heart flip and he hates the heartbeat monitor he’s hooked up with for giving that away as he blushes and quickly focuses on Chris to avoid having to look at Eddie.

Some awkwardness keeps lingering and Buck focuses primarily on Chris as to not talk about it. He also naps some here and there, which is still very boring according to Chris, but he lets him doze. At some point, Carla leaves and a bit later Buck gets an actual meal in the form of lunch.

By the time lunch is gone and the afternoon is creeping in, he finds himself wondering where Maddie is. He can understand she had to work or organize her own stuff in the morning. He also didn’t show up until the afternoon when she was in the LA hospital after Doug, but it’s already getting late and he hasn’t heard from her at all.

The others not being there is also a little weird, but they have their own families to go home to after being in an explosion and maybe there is paperwork to be done around the incident or something. So, he doesn’t question them not being there, while Eddie is (the thought of Eddie and Chris not being there never even crossed his mind). But Maddie’s absence is weird.

So, he asks: “Where’s Maddie? I half thought she would have been hovering already.”

The joke is to cover the hurt. He can’t remember a serious injury Maddie wasn’t there for. It’s how it’s supposed to go, her being there because he got hurt. He half expected the others there too, everyone waited for Chim to wake up. Maybe his injury wasn’t serious enough? Was that it? It felt serious, but comparatively, he might be blowing it out of proportion? It’s just a broken leg after all, they see worse every day, no matter how scared he’d been at the time.

That is before he sees Eddie’s face. It shutters for a second, pain being reflected in those beautiful eyes of his, before they become blank. He tugs Chris onto his lap and seems way more interested in adjusting him than looking at Buck as he says: “She had to go home. They were all there until you got out of surgery, but there was an explosion, you know. They went home to rest. Athena said she’d and Bobby would come by later. So did Hen.”

It’s a weak excuse and Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. Buck can easily make out that there is something wrong, very wrong. A bit sharper, he asks: “Eddie, what happened?”

Eddie stares at the top of Chris’s head for a moment, as if that will change anything. Chris just looks confused, eyes flicking from Buck to Eddie, then back. If Buck had known it would be a serious conversation, he wouldn’t have started it in front of him, but he’s started it and now that he knows there is information to know – information to explain why no one is there – he is desperate to know.

When the silence drags on and Eddie figures out Buck isn’t going to break it, he finally looks up and says: “I’m your medical next of kin, Buck. I got to make the call on what happened to you when you were in surgery. Maddie wanted to make a different call, but as your husband, my opinion was the only one that counted. Everyone was there for that conversation.”

He brings it delicately enough that Chris doesn’t pick up on the intricacies, but with enough clarity that Buck immediately knows what happened; they’re busted.

“Oh. That’s not good.”

Eddie laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, you can say that. Bobby, uhm- he wasn’t pleased. He has to appear in front of the LAFD brass today. He’s still waiting on the verdict of his suspension and now this has come on top of it.”

Buck’s heart sinks at the news. Both knew they were taking a risk when they started lying at work, but that was always meant to be just the two of them, who were taking that risk. Now it’s the whole station, especially Bobby, that are jeopardized. No wonder no one is there, he’s about to lose them all their jobs.

The thought of everyone turning against him, against them, makes him paralyzed with fear. He loves the 118, the family he made there. Sure, he had tía Pepa and Abuela, but they have always been Eddie’s side of the family, in a way, the 118 was his side, before he had Maddie.

But now he has neither.

A part of him can’t help but be incredibly disappointed that this was what was too much for Maddie, that this is what made her run. Again.

Buck knows that they hadn’t spoken in years before she came back into his life and that they’ve had their ups and downs. They promised no more lies and Buck broke that. He broke the trust they had just rebuilt, but he at least expected her to be here to yell at him about it. Not this.

He is crushed. He fucked it all up. He just got her back and now he’s pushed her away. All he wanted to do was spare her the headache of keeping the secret, but now it’s out in the open and he lost her.

However, he can’t feel like that right now. There is still a chance he can make it right with Maddie, explain his side, grovel, apologize, try to make it up to her. He doesn’t know if he can make it up to the others, but he has hope about maybe Maddie and that is something he needs to cling to, because he can’t break down when Chris is right there.

So, he plasters on a grin and says: “Well, hopefully our news heroics swing it in our favor. I remember the cameras, do you think they got my good side?”

For a moment Eddie looks as if he can’t believe Buck just said that with all the deep shit they’re in, which gets wiped off and replaced with understanding the second Chris giggles. “Of course it will, papi, you’re the best heroes.”

“Ahw, thank you, Superman,” Buck smiles, the expression feeling more real and less strained. “Want to show me the drawing you’ve been working on?”

Chris happily clambers off Eddie’s lap to return to his place on Buck’s bed to show him his drawing. Meanwhile Eddie gets up to stare out of the window. Buck wishes he could make it better, but he can’t do anything from his place in the hospital bed. All they can do is wait until they get word from the brass. If Eddie feels the need to brood while they wait, he can brood.

They have to leave when the night comes, but Eddie promises he and Chris will be back the next day, so he won’t be alone. Eddie offers to ask for a cot so they can stay there, but Buck tells him to go home. Chris being properly supported while he sleeps is more important than Buck’s abandonment issues.

The next day, tía Pepa comes by too. When she comes into his room she claps her hand over her mouth as tears spring into her eyes, then she rushes forward to give him a big hug. “Oh, Buck. Are they feeding you well in here? I’ll make you some food.”

“Thank you, tía Pepa,” Buck smiles, melting into the hug. “But I’m fine, I promise. I’m gonna be out of here soon. Probably today or tomorrow.” Then he remembers he likely can’t cook when he gets back, so Eddie is on chef duty. “But maybe some food would be nice for when I get discharged.”

“I’ll make sure to bring some by when Eddie springs you,” Pepa tells him with a wink. She also knows whose cooking he’s going to be stuck with.

Chris is also excited to see his tía. Buck doesn’t know whether it’s good or bad thing that Chris feels comfortable enough in hospitals to treat this as normal. With how Eddie danced around his prognosis when Chris was in the room, he thinks Eddie shielded him from how bad Buck got hurt and how close it got. So, he probably doesn’t even realize how serious this could be.

He puts it out of his mind for now, just like he puts the lack of other visitors, lack of messages and cards or flowers, out of his mind. He has Chris and Eddie. That’s all he had for a long time and that’s enough. It has to be. It is. …Only he also misses what he had. Just a little.

Still, worrying about that seems practically inconsequential when two uniformed LAFD officers enter his hospital room. The first one identifies himself: “Firefighter Buckley, Probationary Firefighter Diaz, I’m the Chief of Staff for the LAFD, Mike Brandson, my colleague here is the Deputy Chief from HR, Miranda Halleway.”

“I’ll take Chris for a moment,” Pepa says, whisking a confused Chris away with a small frown and short: “Bye, daddy, bye papi.”

Both Buck and Eddie say bye back, because it’s important in their family to say bye. Even if both of them internally wince, because that’s not a good look for them, which is confirmed by raised eyebrows they get from Brandson and Halleway.

“We have been informed by Captain Nash that the two of you are married, but have failed to file the appropriate paperwork that would potentially allow the two of you to work together, instead choosing to lie to the department, creating an unassessed safety risk and liability in the meantime,” Brandson starts.

He levels both of them with a stern look and Buck feels a despair grip at his throat. This is already not sounding great for them.

“However, when informing us of this, Captain Nash imparted on us that this is because the two of you are not actually together,” Brandson continues. “Further clarification was not given, so we would like to know exactly what was meant by that.”

Room to explain and share their side. Neither of them had expected that and they share a quick look, before Eddie gestures to Buck to explain.

“Well, I met Eddie when I was living in El Paso in 2015, it was. I knew his ex-wife and had met Chris while he was with the army the year before. We didn’t speak much at first, but then Shannon left, signing over custody to Eddie. It’s a lot to suddenly do it alone, so I offered to help,” Buck explains. “I worked days, Eddie nights. Just friends, but co-parenting. Then Chris needed two surgeries and PT is expensive. Eddie needed to sign up for another tour to get the bills paid, but then he’d have to leave Chris with his parents and he didn’t want that.”

“Might I ask why you didn’t want that, Mr. Diaz?” Halleway cuts in, directing the question to Eddie, who’s been quietly nodding along.

Eddie’s mouth tightens into a line, before he tells them the harsh truth Buck doesn’t think he ever even admitted to himself out loud like this. “Because they’re overbearing and baby Chris to the point of debilitating him further. I want my kid to be healthy, Deputy Chief. I want him to have as much independence as he can. And I wanted to get him back when I got home. I know what they say about teen parents, but I love that kid like crazy, okay? I don’t want to lose him.”

Halleway nods, writing something down on a notepad. Neither of them know if that’s good. Buck wants to check in with Eddie after that confession, but he’s staring out of the window again, arms crossed and shoulders tight.

Buck decides to tell the story further. “Uhm, yeah, that. So, I offered to adopt Chris, you know. Take care of him while Eddie was away until he could come back and we could do it together again. He was already kind of my son too at that point.”

“And you don’t find that an offer that is unusually close for just two friends?” Halleway asks.

“No!” Buck frowns, slightly offended she’d ask that. “I like helping people, it’s one of the reasons I became a firefighter. Eddie became family, as did Chris. I didn’t have anyone back then. Maddie, my sister, only got back into my life late last year after not speaking to her since I was nineteen and I still haven’t spoken to my parents since then. Of course I was going to offer to help.”

Halleway gives him a skeptical look, but writes something down again, before asking: “And how did marriage come into play?”

“The easiest and fastest way to adopt a kid is through stepparent adoption,” Buck shrugs. “It’s not like either of us had anyone we wanted to marry, so it made sense with the time frame we had. It was convenient, nothing more. Eddie got hurt in the army, he could stay on my income while he recovered, as could Chris. Tax breaks are nice and we’re good friends. Best friends. Our plan has always been to divorce when we found someone to settle with, but we just haven’t met anyone yet.”

At that Halleway makes a soft humming sound. “So why didn’t you inform Captain Nash or the LAFD that you were married to each other?”

“You don’t have to declare marital status,” Buck tells her, a little annoyed at her attitude. “It’s part of the anti-discrimination laws. I didn’t want to have my on paper gay marriage there when I didn’t even know who I was going to be working under. Not to mention that it wasn’t a traditional marriage out of love. I am single, just legally married.”

“And when the two of you decided to lie to work together? According to Captain Nash, everyone at the 118 was under the impression, the two of you met last year at the station.”

“That might have been a bad call on our part. But our situation is complicated to explain and it’s a hassle to make people understand. It would be easier to not have to do it, but when you say you know each other, people wonder what from. We lied, because it was easier.”

“Without thinking to file a fraternization papers?”

“Why would we? We weren’t dating. Look, the two of us working together isn’t any different than other friends working together. And friends are allowed to work together, every day. We didn’t feel the need to file those papers, because they aren’t true for us now and they weren’t true for us when we started working there.” He and Eddie aren’t dating, no matter how much Buck wishes they were sometimes. They’re just married.

“Would you not state that the two of you have a connection that are different from best friends. The two of your are co-parents, are you not?”

“We are,” Buck confirms and Eddie nods sharply. “But the fraternization papers are specifically about dating a coworker, there are no specifications about raising a kid together. Are divorced couples with kids meant to file those papers? What about foster parents, who happen to get custody over the child of a coworker? There are no clear specifications, we didn’t file, because from what we could see, they didn’t apply.”

He’s gaining steam now and goes on: “Not informing anyone that we had a legal connection might not have been the best call, but it wasn’t illegal. And looking at our record, you can see that we never prioritized each other on calls. We have remained professional at the job and left our private life at home, that’s not a crime. The people we work with every single day, didn’t pick up on anything weird about our conduct on the job, until I was hospitalized and Eddie had to make a medical decision for me.”

It’s quiet for a second, then Halleway clears her throat and asks: “Do you have anything to add to Mr. Buckley’s words, Mr. Diaz?”

“No, uh, I think he said all that needed to be said,” Eddie says.

“Thank you gentlemen,” Brandson nods.

“So what will happen now?” Buck asks.

“Well, after your public injury, we won’t cut you loose, Mr. Buckley. You’re put on paid medical leave for the time being, while we investigate your claims further. There likely will be a verdict on whether or not there will be any disciplinary actions, before you’re fit to return,” Brandson tells him and Buck doesn’t inform him that he might never return.

“And what about me?” Eddie asks.

“You’re being suspended without pay, Mr. Diaz. For the coming three weeks at least while we determine whether you can continue to finish your probationary year at the LAFD.”

With that, the two LAFD officers shake their hands and say their goodbyes, before leaving Buck and Eddie in the hospital room, shaken and with an unsure future hanging over their heads.

~~

A/N:

If I look like I know how the LAFD works, I regret to inform you that I do not. Here we live of fanfic vibes, so do not take this as anything but my plot convenient whimsy! :D

[practically-an-x-man]

For the whump prompts- 21 for Madison?

Ooooh thank you!! I have a feeling this is going to end up more hurt/comfort than whump, but it should still be a good one! (And of course, given the prompt, this takes place a while in the future)

21. Chronic Pain from a Lifetime of Hero Work

50 Superhero-Inspired Whump Prompts

____

"Y'know, I'm-" Madison huffed, grimacing as she crested the last few steps, "I'm beginning to recognize why most people don't go live in the woods for half a decade."

She reached the top of the stairs and paused, shuffling over to lean against the wall for a moment. Her pride took a hit - the joint pain wasn't new by any means, but rarely was it ever this severe - but Madison tried to shake it off.

"That bad?"

Madison just shot her husband a withering look.

"Bad enough that I'm hobbling up the stairs like an old woman," she replied, "Malnutrition's catching up to me."

The thought of that scared her, somewhere deep inside. She'd thought that her time in the woods was long behind her. It was a formative part of her life, yes, but now decades in the past. It was far enough behind her that it almost seemed to belong to someone else entirely: that Madison Douglas, the stormy young girl running from her own life, was worlds away from the woman she'd become. And she was content to leave that in the past.

But here it came back again. Years later, in its own little echoes. Even decades of healthy living couldn't erase the damage she'd done to herself back then. Hiking on sprained ankles because she didn't have a choice, surviving on birch tea and scraps of jerky when she didn't have any other food, spending years with little protection from the elements... and all during those delicate teenage years, all during a time when she needed her health more than ever.

She'd known for years that there would be some sort of consequence for that way of living.

Knowing that, however, didn't make experiencing it any better.

It made her wonder how many hikes she had left in her, before she had to hang up her pack for good. All those calluses and rigid edges she'd carved for herself had now gone soft - or maybe not soft but brittle, worn thin and finally beginning to crack from the strain.

"Want me to carry you?" Alex offered, already hovering close as Madison picked herself back up off the wall. Fresh aches erupted at the motion, and she was reminded of how many nights she'd spent holed up in her old canvas hammock those years ago. She could hardly imagine it now. If she tried spending a night anywhere other than her own bed, she thought, she might not be able to walk the next day.

"Oh, sure, show off how you're still just as strong and perfect as you were twenty years ago," Madison scoffed, though there was no venom behind it. She shoved at her husband's shoulder, a faint but playful smile twisting at her lips. "Bastard."

"Hey, it could be worse."

"Oh yeah?" Madison fired back, taking a few more hobbling steps down the hall. She imagined she could place every ache in her body, every old wound and where they'd all come from. Her left ankle acting up, stiff and half-refusing to bear weight: a bad sprain from falling out of a tree, worsened when she'd had to outrun a storm before it blew in. The sharp pain when she turned her head: the lingering crick in her neck, not one injury but the culmination of nights upon nights spent curled up awkwardly amid the branches of a tree. Even the strange, shooting pains down her spine and forearms: points of strain where her fins met her body, weakened by how many times they'd been wrenched back in battle.

"Yeah," Alex replied, "You could still be out there."

Madison froze at that, the words striking her harder than she'd expected. If it hadn't been for that one little skirmish, if the Brotherhood had picked any other campsite than hers... she probably would still be stuck out there in the woods like some kind of wild hermit. If she hadn't died by now.

He was right. That would be worse.

Madison turned to look at him and was greeted with a chorus of impressive snaps and pops from her spine and hips. She rolled her shoulders, and they spoke their protests as well.

"Oh, listen to that," she said, "My body agrees with you."

[zurajanaizurakoda]

Which EP that make your into ginzura ?!

I know who you are, and you know you don't want to hear this. There wasn't any episode, I first watched the series almost ten years ago and distanced myself from it because it was making me physically sick worrying about characters. I remember looking for Ginzura and not finding anything but not being particularly attached to it. Like I didn't really see g*nhiji so I figured Ginzura had at least as much reason?

I thought the most interesting relationship was between Gin and Kagura (NOT sexually or romantically, I was just fascinated by them.

When I saw that the series was all on Crunchyroll (as far as I knew except the love potion arc which I wasn't a fan of in the manga so I decided to watch the series and see how it ended. Got obsessed again. It seems like I latched on to Katsura more that time, although I remember liking him the first time through. Finally I decided to find the second movie, which I remembered liking. I was enjoying it, and then it got to the scene on the balcony where Katsura talks about the last time he saw Gin, and I was fucking run over by a 50-ton freight train of feelings. I've never had a ship hit that fast. When he started choking up it was suddenly clear that the outfit wasn't a popularity joke, Katsura was literally shattered by losing Gin. He'd lost his entire family and his Sensei and his cause and everything he'd ever cared about and he'd persisted, but losing Gin broke him. And it struck me just how miserable he was in the movie, and how no one seemed to care. Kagura flatly states that he went insane because Gin disappeared, and they go back to talking about everything else like that wasn't important. Gin makes a half joke about murdering him and goes back to worrying about Gengai. This is runaway Kotarou, his literal claim to fame is running away. He escapes all the time, even from the inescapable prison, even when he was a screwdriver. And he just sat there and let the execution happen because he was so broken down. And of course, Kagura says he talked about destroying the world, but all he talks about, both with Kondo and Gin, is how much he wants to help the world. He hates the world but he just wants to help, so badly. And he was breaking down and Gin saw the Blight guy and left Katsura and probably forgot him as soon as he was out of sight. Then during the final battle, Katsura makes the long, impassioned speech about how every single one of them is there to support Gin. If Gin hears the speech, he literally does not react at all. I wondered if this was the Katsura who had mourned Gin for ten years. Everyone else forgot Gin, but for Katsura he lost his best friend and suffered for it for a decade. Here he is finally able to do something for the person he cares about more than everything. And again, how happy would he be if Gin just took a second to acknowledge him?

And it's been the same ever since. His introduction is based on how much he values Gin, how he was willing to dirty his hands to get him back. But he accepts Gin's decision, even if he doesn't like it, and he tries to influence Gin but he never endangers him again. His next major appearance, he says the Harusame is too big for his entire organization, but when Gin says he's going, Katsura goes with him without hesitation "I'm your left hand" isn't just an idle term, he makes an enemy he's already stated he doesn't think he can defeat if it will help Gin. In Benizakura he tells Takasugi he rearranged his core beliefs based on how strong he sees Gin as. I could keep going. The constant standbys. Wanting to be in the Cartesian Arc., In the soul-switch arc he literally is willing to fight for Hijikata because Hijikata in Gin's body took him seriously and offered him a job. When he saved Gin from Nobunobu (Which again, Gin literally never acknowledges, Katsura spends most of his time talking about Gin and Gin spends the whole time playing support for Hijikata. Katsura gets his rawest line in the series, about how when you're near death you just want to be with people you care about. This reframes his asking Gin to commit seppuku with him. When he lost all hope, his one wish was to be near Gintoki when he died. Meanwhile, in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc, he doesn't get to see Gin. It doesn't even appear that Gin bothered to talk to him about Utsuro until Matako and Nobume bring it up. Gin literally fucking renamed him and it changed how his friends treated him for the rest of his life. When he stayed in the ship in The Very Final. I don't see much Ginzura in the series, but if Katsura isn't in love with Gintoki it's still obvious that a good chunk of his sanity revolves around his relationship with Gin. I truly believe there's more support for his romantic feelings for Gin than his romantic feelings for Ikumatsu, and I truly believe he cares about her and I can even see them ending up together but you cannot possibly convince me that their main bond is based around his understanding how hard it is to lose the one you love to the cause. And every time I see Katsura I want to throw a supportive Gin at him, even for a minute, even for a single panel, and it never happens. So I write.

Obviously this is all my opinion. If you really want to discuss it that's fine, but if you just want to tell me how wrong I am I'm aware my opinions are very different from most of the fandom. When I say you can't convince me it's because I'm stubborn as fuck and I suffer from cognitive rigidity, not because I think I'm the smartest person on the internet. Just assume you're right

[mountmortar]

Highschool perfectionists, hearing a college student be excited over making a 50 on the final: "Wow, these students are horrible, I will never be like them." That same student after the college experience: "The class average for exams is consistently in the 30s range can I PLS be above average and pass with a 50 to keep a 90%" 🫡 I feel you SO hard, that was me fighting to get a B in one of my courses. Congrats, and I wish you all the best!

HAHAHAHA THANK YOUUUUUUU <33333 My final is next week and it's like. Hoo boy. C'mon. All I need is a 50 (well. Probably one or two points higher but I'm not stopping to calculate the exact average right now LMAO) and I'll still pass the class with a C, which is the bare minimum that I need to move on to the next class. Ideally I would LIKE to keep my overall B- in the class but I will absolutely settle for the bare minimum. I don't even care. I was a high school perfectionist for the first two years of it before being like "You know what. I'm tired of getting gray hairs at 15/16 years old" and settling more into the motion of going with the flow. Like, really hard. Two semesters ago I had to take a statistics class (which happened to be a night class as well) and the final was scheduled from 8:10-10:10 at night, which already had me like "hrrgh fuck this". I spent the entire semester not paying a damn bit of attention and screwing around on my laptop, showed up for the final (which was all word problems), and man. When I tell you I didn't fully read a single problem on that test I swear to god I'm not joking. I skimmed through the numbers in every question, weighed the answers for maybe half a second, and pretty much chose all my answers by going "yeah, that one sounds right". Somehow, I got an A- on the exam and an A for the class overall. Flabbergasted the fuck out of me.

But unfortunately "going with the flow" is NOT a strategy I can use when it comes to calculus because I have to study overtime for the actual math problems to compensate for the fact that my brain will, most of the time, just physically refuse to process word problems, and the fact that these word problems are asking me to visualize a picture to build equations out of is even worse. I would have a better time if it was something I was actually interested in, but as it is, I get hit with questions like "A North-South highway intersects with an East-West highway at P. An auto crosses P at 10:00AM, traveling East at 20mph. At the same instant, another car is 2 miles North of P, traveling South at 50mph. Find the time they are closest to each other." and it's like man if you wanted me dead you could just say so....

[yowyowyaoi]

Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Nagato

You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.

300 miles? Is that really the closest?!

I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.

Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.

Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.

I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.

I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.

I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.

No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.

You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.

From Kakuzu

Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.

Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.

I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.

Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔

Much, much too expensive.

I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.

I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.

It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship. 

It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due. 

If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.

I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.

Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!

I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.

From Konan

Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡

It’s funny in a shouldn’t be funny way.

Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀

No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!

Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.

I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢

No offense but do you even have nails 🤔

I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.

Since we were children 🥰

I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.

Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.

You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫

Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.

Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??

From Hidan

Freak.

Then stop watching, weirdo!

Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!

Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees. 

Then steal him some damn glasses next time!

But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔

He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂

I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.

How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?

They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.

Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?

If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.

Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄

So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.

From Sasori

Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.

A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.

Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒

I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.

Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.

An interesting experiment, certainly.

I have vague memories but that’s all.

You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off. 

Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!

I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.

If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?

You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.

I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.

From Kisame

So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.

Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.

Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.

No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.

Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.

I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.

I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.

Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒

I don’t but Samehada seems to.

The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋

Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.

Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning. 

From Deidara

You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!

If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼

Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?

Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!

Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff 🤔

I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.

Honestly not until I met Sasori lol 

Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩

I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.

Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.

Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖

Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡

Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.

From Itachi

Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.

Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.

No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.

Yes but cabbage is so versatile.

You saw him? Did he look well? 👀

The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.

I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.

There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.

No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.

22 doesn’t really interest me.

From Obito

The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.

Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!

He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍

Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.

I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.

It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.

I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.

The constant money woes are so tedious.

Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.

We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.

You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻

What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?

Bonus: From Madara

He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.

What? That little shit. 😡

If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.

You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.

Have you seen my good blanket?

What happened to my slippers?

🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.

Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.

Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.

Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.

Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?

If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.

Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.

Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.

First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?

What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.

I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.

[max-nico]

hey anon from the clothing ask here~

i meant the mobian culture around clothing but you can pick the one that you like more! :)

sorry for not clarifying

Ofc ofc !!!! You're all good Anon 🫶🏾 forgive me if I take a bit to answer this ask, I need to organize my thoughts into words lol as of me writing this sentence I'm trying to condense an essays worth of writing into somewhat easily consumable bullet points.

Hope this is to your liking 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Gloves

I've been Headcanoning gloves are worn for decency's sake, as in they are the Mobian equivalent to undergarments for humans, but I hadn't really put more thought into it than that

I'm sure it's either for practical reasons, or it's more of an emotional trust type of thing.

For example, cats typically don't let you pet their stomach or their paws unless they're sleeping and they leave them exposed to you, hence trusting you.

Or, animals typically don't all experience touch the same way. Some bugs can taste with their hands and feet, and I'm sure it'd be uncomfortable to be tasting every single hand you've ever held. So, gloves.

I'm also sure there are plenty of animals who are highly sensitive to touch or temperature, which would also make accidentally bumping hands in the street uncomfortable

I understand that, as someone who's touch averse and germaphobic I completely understand the need for everyone to wear gloves.

I'm sure some Mobians wear them less than others, like deer (idk much about deer so I could be wrong) probably can't feet much through hooves, and I'm sure their Mobian counter parts have hands but maybe the low amount of nerve endings carry over

Maybe it's more of a politeness thing? Like not wearing gloves in public is a bit of a dick move, because even if it doesn't affect you personally it could affect the person you're next to.

I also don't think young kids have to wear gloves. Have you ever tried to get shoes on a toddler who hates them, and will just take them off and lose them anyway? It's a lot of work for zero reward

You obviously have to teach your kids to wear them though. Especially once they start hitting about preschool age...

..But I'm just spit balling here lol

Clothes

I definitely think clothes are a human influence, Mobians don't really wear clothes generally. Most of our cast wears like- shoes and gloves + a jacket at most

Even Sally's original design followed that pattern

I think Mobians who grew up around humans, or have at least spent a long time around humans have adapted to wearing clothes most of the time.

Take Amy who has always worn clothes, and has basically always been in a city, compared to Sonic and Tails, who have always been living fast and free, yk?

Or Knuckles who grew up on a secluded floating island compared to Rouge who literally has a government job lol

Ofc, Shadow exists, and he doesn't wear clothes but he's also this half alien science experiment on immortality who grew up in space and then was put into stasis for 50 years and then suffered from severe memory loss

So... I feel like he may be a huge outlier lol...

I'm sure clothing for Mobians is a huge tell on where everyone's from, because Mobians from Holoska, Empire, Soleanna, and Spagonia, do not all dress the same, even if the patterns on their coat are similar

Basically the same thing people do when it comes to cultural clothing and skin color

I think it'd be cool if Mobians would've naturally progressed into face paints and hair(fur?) dye instead of clothes without human interference

Other

I was thinking about animal habits that carry over to their Mobians counterparts, then I started thinking about crows lol

Crow type Mobians, no matter where they live or are from, would typically gravitate toward maximalism and shiny garbs. But then I was like... Okay that's cool but where do stereotypes begin and instincts end?

Then I learned that crows might not actually collect shiny things and that it's probably a myth and decided to apologize to the crow Mobians I made up for stereotyping them lol

My question still stands though !! I also feel like someone asking a Mobian something along the lines of "So do you wear necklaces because wild crows like to collect shiny things?" Would be more of a human thing lol

I feel like Mobians in general have a better understanding of each other's instincts than humans do, which can definitely lead to inappropriate questions

But crows are still hoarders though... So maybe if raised by their own they all do tend to wear a maximalist style, but then would that end up being nature or nurture?

And THEN I was talking to my girlfriend about this and she was like, "well maybe these hypothetical crows all grew up hearing these stories about their ancestors that could be true or false, but they've just been honoring this traditionally shiny clothing for so long that it's second nature"

and was like wow.... And now there's even more questions to ask and we've been talking about hypothetical crows for a long time and I feel like we're getting too far from the original point bc now we're getting into specifics instead of more broad topics

But I figured I'd put it here anyways

[nicklloydnow]

“The article was published on the Kremlin's main propaganda website, RIA Novosti. It was written by Sergey Karaganov, a "Doctor of Sciences in History" and a political scientist. The article’s full title is "There is no choice: Russia will have to launch a nuclear strike on Europe".

And this is not his first such material. Less than two weeks ago, Karaganov published a similar article, the essence of which boils down to the same thing – Russia "must launch a pre-emptive nuclear strike on Europe." It was published in Profile, a private magazine.”

“As the video illustrates, it doesn’t matter much who starts the war: when one side launches nuclear missiles, the other side detects them and fires back before impact. Ballistic missiles from U.S. submarines west of Norway start striking Russia after about 10 minutes, and Russian ones from north of Canada start hitting the U.S. a few minutes later. The very first strikes fry electronics and power grids by creating an electro-magnetic pulse of tens of thousands of volts per meter. The next strikes target command-and-control centers and nuclear launch facilities. Land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles take about half an hour to fly from launch to target.

(…)

Unfortunately, peer-reviewed research suggests that explosions, the electromagnetic pulse, and the radioactivity aren’t the worst part: a nuclear winter is caused by the black carbon smoke from the nuclear firestorms. The Hiroshima atomic bomb caused such a firestorm, but today’s hydrogen bombs are much more powerful. A large city like Moscow, with almost 50 times more people than Hiroshima, can create much more smoke, and a firestorm that sends plumes of black smoke up into the stratosphere, far above any rain clouds that would otherwise wash out the smoke. This black smoke gets heated by sunlight, lofting it like a hot air balloon for up to a decade. High-altitude jet streams are so fast that it takes only a few days for the smoke to spread across much of the northern hemisphere.

This makes Earth freezing cold even during the summer, with farmland in Kansas cooling by about 20 degrees centigrade (about 40 degrees Fahrenheit), and other regions cooling almost twice as much. A recent scientific paper estimates that over 5 billion people could starve to death, including around 99% of those in the US, Europe, Russia, and China – because most black carbon smoke stays in the Northern hemisphere where it’s produced, and because temperature drops harm agriculture more at high latitudes.

(…)

We obviously don’t know how many people will survive a nuclear war. But if it’s even remotely as bad as this study predicts, it has no winners, merely losers. It’s easy to feel powerless, but the good news is that there is something you can do to help: please help share this video! The fact that nuclear war is likely to start via gradual escalation, perhaps combined by accident or miscalculation, means that the more people know about nuclear war, the more likely we are to avoid having one.”

“Article 92 of Russia's constitution lays down that if the head of state is 'incapable of fulfilling his duties' his temporary successor is the prime minister. That would be Mikhail Mishustin, a competent, low-key 57-year-old bureaucrat who is hardly a household name even in Russia.

But real power after a palace coup would lie elsewhere, probably with a Kremlin insider. Nikolai Patrushev, the national security adviser, is one candidate. His well-connected, fast-rising son Dmitry, currently agriculture minister, is another. Any such new leader would make Putin the scapegoat for the disastrous Ukraine war, and try to end it as quickly as possible.

A neat solution, but not a durable one.Many in Russia fear that what lies ahead is a 'Time of Troubles' (Smutnoye vremya), in which feuding clans battle for wealth and power. The phrase originally referred to the lawless period after 1598, when the tsarist throne changed hands six times in 15 years.

(…)

According to Igor Girkin, a military veteran with a wide following among nationalist Russians, last weekend's chaotic and violent events show that another 'Time of Troubles' has already started.

(…)

The state-controlled energy giant Gazprom has two militias: Potok (stream) and Fakel (torch). The defence minister Sergei Shoigu has Patriot, which hires experienced soldiers on hefty salaries of £5,000 a month or more — a fortune by Russian standards.

These legions serve many purposes. Apart from spearheading Russia's efforts in Ukraine, the Wagner Group — in particular — spreads Kremlin influence across Africa and was largely responsible for saving the brutal Assad regime in Syria. Yet the existence of these 'military contractors' is a sign of how deeply Russia has decayed. It would be inconceivable for British companies such as the energy giant BP, or the catering contractor Sodexo, to have private armies, let alone for Ben Wallace, the Secretary of State for Defence, to have his own personal fighting force.

(…)

The Kremlin is belatedly trying to rein in these legions. But the lesson of the past few days is that central power is weak. Just like the boyars [barons] who clashed in the first Time of Troubles, the big players in modern Russia know that they need their own private militias, and the bigger the better.

As these rivalries boil over, long-buried ethnic grievances could resurface too. Regional chiefs, who have long chafed at Moscow's intrusive rule, could all too easily try to assert their independence. The Muslim peoples of central Russia — Tatars, Bashkirs and others — could exploit the crisis to regain the freedom they briefly tasted more than 100 years ago.

(…)

In Britain we may have largely disconnected our oil and gas supplies from Russia, but that is no cause for complacency if the giant country spirals downwards into disorder. Perhaps the most alarming prospect is 'loose nukes': the thought of Russia's stockpile of thousands of nuclear warheads falling into the hands of terrorists.

(…)

Decision-makers in Beijing have long looked hungrily over their shared border at Russia's natural wealth: hydrocarbons, minerals, timber, water and crops. It would be ironic if Putin's attempt to rebuild the old Russian empire ended in his country becoming part of the new Chinese one. Yet these are not the worst outcomes. A post-Putin junta or strongman could turn the country into a nuclear-armed rogue state like North Korea or Iran, bristling with weapons and determined to make trouble. Given our repeated failures to contain Putin's ambitions, we will struggle to deal with a regime truly bent on nuclear confrontation.

(…)

One thing in all this is certain — change will catch us flat-footed. Over the past 30 years I have watched in dismay and anger as our governments have eviscerated Britain's expertise in understanding Russia. Spies, diplomats and analysts with lifetime experience in Kremlinology, their skills honed by the high stakes of the Cold War, were cast on to the scrap heap.

(…)

Whether we like it or not, the Putin era — with the illusions it fostered in Russia and abroad — is coming to an end. Be prepared.”

[llatimeria]

So, basically, for much of Tetris's history, people believed level 29 was the "last" level of Tetris, as the speed of the blocks would get so high that no human could do anything but lose; the blocks would go so fast that human hands physically could not control them. However, Tetris does not get any faster beyond that point, so if you're capable of playing level 29, you're capable of playing hypothetically infinitely.

Except Tetris, the original version for the NES, is not a hypothetical. It's a physical object, an item you can touch and hold, and it has limits. Many classic arcade-style video games have honest-to-god killscreens, where the game breaks so badly that it becomes completely unplayable. Pac-Man, famously, has a killscreen that garbles half of the playing field and doesn't spawn enough dots for the level to ever end. Tetris was assumed to be no exception, but because of the presumed-impossible difficulty of level 29, the community considered that to be Tetris's killscreen, and all high-leveled Tetris play centered around level 29 being the absolute end of your run, no matter what.

But, and if you've heard literally anything about people getting insanely good at retro games, you'll know what comes next. Of course, someone figures out how to control the game past level 29. In 2011, Thor Aackerlund discovered a technique now known as "hypertapping" (which is exactly what it sounds like, tapping very very fast) - and became the first person to play level 30.

But hypertapping wasn't enough. It was still stupidly difficult to get to, let alone past, level 30. Then this guy named Cheez shows up and finds that using an even more absurd technique, called "Rolling", which was even faster than hypertapping. People weren't just hitting level 30, but then 40, then 50, and then all the way into the 90s. Since all post-29 levels have the exact same speed, once they mastered rolling, they were pretty much good to play forever.

With levels 29+ conquered, now players could face the real killscreen of Tetris. A Tetris-playing AI got the first crash, but since it was playing a very slightly modified version (to show a larger score number, because the vanilla score counter didn't have enough digits), it only kinda-sorted counted. So the community picked apart the game's code to find where the game could hypothetically crash while completely unmodified - and found the current human record was not that far off.

So the entire community fucking scrambles to be the first person to crash Tetris, but then were confounded by another technically-not-game-ending-but-still-pretty-much-impossible-for-a-human bug; after level 138, the game stops choosing the colors for the blocks from where it's supposed to, leading it to display some truly heinously color palettes. Most of them are just ugly, but a few make the blocks you're placing next to invisible. (This was actually known about before the AI even crashed the game, and part of the reason the AI could get so much further than humans; it didn't need to visually see the blocks.)

Just next to invisible, though. You could still sorta see most of the blocks, and when you pass the level, the game pulls a new color palette, so if you can tough it out long enough to get 10 lines, you're probably gonna be able to continue your game for a while after that. It's annoying as hell, but not impossible. So, of course, the runners start getting past them and brushing up against the crashable levels.

And by runners, I mostly mean a 13 year old boy who goes by the online handle Blue Scuti. He'd skyrocketed into fame in the Tetris community relatively recently by achieving scores and levels that most adults couldn't even dream of, so of course he was among the first people to get past both impossible-palette levels, and he was able to keep going.

The game doesn't always crash in one specific spot, though. It just starts having a chance to crash after a certain point. You might have to perform some specific actions in specific windows of time to get it to crash on purpose, and it's much more likely that you'll lose control and lose your run before you achieve that goal.

Blue Scuti missed the first crash opportunity in his run. He was the first person to get that far at all, so it'd be a record regardless, but he was determined to win. He somehow keeps his cool, despite being a literal child with thousands of eyes on him (this was streamed on Twitch, of course), and never loses control of his stack, all the way until he reaches the next crash opportunity all the way on level 157.

And he fucking does it. He gets a single line clear in the middle of level 157 and the game just stops. It completely crashed. A 13 year old boy nicknamed Blue Scuti is the first human being in history to crash Tetris in this way. He is the first person ever to see Tetris's real killscreen. This game is over twice his age, and he is the first to kill it dead.

This kid fucking rules.

(if you want more detail, I learned basically all of the above from this video by aGameScout, please watch it!!)

So apparently the pro-Tetris scene is exploding right now because a 13 year old nerd just reached the game's true killscreen for the first time ever

[blindrapture]

WEDNESDAY JULY 13TH, 2011 ("Operation: RIse Against Fear")

12:32 AM We’ve hit the Kentucky border. Great. Like I care.

12:40 AM Donnie’s trying to grab my hand. I’m trying to drive! >_> Gah. One-track mind.

12:44 AM ..sorry. .____.;; I didn’t mean to get like that. I.. I don’t know. I just don’t know.

12:56 AM I hate.. I hate something. Myself, probably. It’s who I always hate, after all. I am the sickness, and I’m down. ..ooh-wah-ah-ah-ah? God, that was cheesy. …heh. Like, wow. That was insanely cheesy. Even for me. Hahahahahahaha. Ha. What was I even mad about earlier? Ah, who cares.

1:49 AM Hitchhikers!

1:50 AM They kicked us out of the car and drove off.

2:29 AM I did not miss the slowness of walking. "It definitely sucks." We can’t even listen to music. And I've got an Alice in Chains craving! "We didn't have any Alice in Chains." Yeah, it was kind of burning in the back of my mind even still. It's "The Man in the Box," I want that song. It was in Rock Band 2. "That's a good song. That was in Rock Band?" I'm telling you, the best setlists in either the games or music industry were in those games. "I liked Guitar Hero 3." Yeah, see, you're missing out. There's a whole thing, I can prove algebraically that Rock Band was leagues above Guitar Hero. I mean, RB3 was seen as a weirder setlist, but I think it just needed more time to grow on people. The fact of the matter is, the RB trilogy is unrivaled. You'd be hard-pressed to find a single mediocre song. Case in point: “Pull Me Under” is Dream Theater’s only hit single in their, what, 26-year career, yet when Harmonix decided to give them a song in Rock Band 2, they instead chose “Panic Attack.” Neversoft played it safe in Guitar Hero 4 and chose the hit single, while Harmonix made sure to choose a song that would be downright impossible to play on all instruments. Harmonix knows what they’re doing. They don’t just choose the popular songs; they choose the songs that will be fun to play. Because every member of Harmonix is a musician in some way. Who better to craft a music game? And, y'know, Harmonix were the creators of Guitar Hero. They made the first two, then went off and made Rock Band as just.. a Bigger and Better kind of thing. Meanwhile, Guitar Hero gets Neversoft assigned to them, and look, I love Neversoft! I grew up with the Tony Hawk games! THUG and THAW were my childhood! But Neversoft are good at making skateboarding games. They're not musicians; they can't compete with Harmonix, and they'd never beat them at their own game. ...literally! ...I mean. Am I going on? "I like it." :) Ah, Harmonix! You and Valve were my all-time favourite video game developers.

2:38 AM I remember reading an article, an interview with a couple Valve employees. They talked about the way Valve works. And it was like first fuckin’ contact with an alien species! They said that there are essentially no higher-ups in that company, no set agendas, no status quo, no conventional business structure at all. The way they decide what game they’re gonna make next? Someone experiments and makes a little demo— entirely by themselves or with whoever else wants to help— and tries to get more and more people to help him make it. That is it. Can you believe it? o_o "o_o" So the only reason Half-Life 2: Episode Three never came out was because nobody actually got around to finishing it. ..I’m sure there were more complicated reasons than that; I respect Valve more than that.

5:35 AM Decided to stop at the nearest hotel. We’ve been walking for so goddamn long, though we’ve been trying to make it easier by talking about just about anything we could think of. Video games, movies, even resorted to talking about porn at one point. (There were opinions to be had...) Map says we’re about halfway through Kentucky now. We’re making great progress! But then again, we just lost our car, so.. this next leg might be a lot slower than before. And plus we’ve still got to pass through Missouri before we reach Nebraska, let alone even California... ugh. Anyway, Donnie and I are talking about our plans for this journey. We know, maybe even more than trying to get to any physical destination, we’re gonna have to figure out how to find the Cipher. Me, I’m kinda hoping we’ll run into EAT again. She has her suspicions about that thing. “It’s a Fear. It’s no different from the Harlequin. It’s planning something. When we get past a Fear unscathed, we're not safe, our backs are turned. And that one knows a lot about us.” I.. don’t know what to say to that! She could very easily be right. But in the end, I told her the fact that EAT knows so much about us is also what makes it our best bet at the moment. It’s a being of knowledge; we’re X factors. It’s not gonna attack us unless we prove ourselves to be a threat. Besides. The Ciphers seem to be the answer. We scared Archie and the Musicians last time, didn’t we? ..right?

1:11 PM Awake now. Nice sleep. Dreamed of sweet foods. ..wow, Donnie looks great today. .w.; Well. Time to resume our long walk. ^^;;

1:13 PM Wait a minute. We just entered a rabbit hole, didn’t we? I mean, we’re kinda now in Rachael Land.

1:20 PM Oh, now all the Rachaels are crowding around me. I’m making sure Donnie stays close. ..oh, now they.. left. o_o

1:24 PM Donnie says they’re all glaring at her. ..I don’t see them doing that.

1:30 PM I asked a Rachael where I might find the exit to this rabbit hole. She asked which exit I wanted. I said I wanted to go to Nebraska, specifically, but anywhere close is good. Then she looked at Donnie and said she’s not helping us. So now we’re on our own. Now, I admit, I can see them glaring. Tiger Stripes is at the ready.

1:37 PM Some Rachaels are coming our way. Some are cracking their knuckles. I am so ready fo oh Donnie says she’s got this.

1:38 PM holy shit. o_o She really does got this.

1:40 PM She fucking wiped the floor. Owo;; Oh shit, look out, second wave! She threw her frying pan on the ground and pulled out the empty rifle. She's swinging it like a baseball bat.

1:44 PM That one’s got a gun. Donnie’s got her hands full. I’m not just gonna stand here.

1:45 PM HELLO MEET X-PLORER Got her hand, dropped the gun. Good. Now the Rachaels are coming for me too. Tiger Stripes, we’re gonna have to strike harder than we really want to.

1:48 PM RACHAELS WITH SHOTGUNS FUCKING REALLY? "Hold onto your hat, let's go!" yes, ma'am!!!

1:49 PM DOWN THIS ALLEYWAY

1:50 PM MOVE IT BLUES BROTHERS …WAIT

1:85 PM A voice speaks to me: "Do you want to see?" Repression, obsession, lay your character bare. You make a good pair.

4:44 PM Ugh. Where the hell are we now. It’s a house. …OH hello dead person on the floor. I’ve gotten pretty used to this by now. Where’s Donnie there she is hi. Okay. Next step is to figure out where we are.

4:48 PM This seems to be a town. Not sure how big it is yet. SCREAM what What’s happening.

4:49 PM ..a lady ran out of the house and called us monsters. o_o Now she’s chasing us!

4:58 PM Crowd of people, hoping they’re people and not zombies!

4:59 PM Yep, people. The crowd’s shutting up, the lady stopped chasing us. A man’s coming up to find out what the hubbub is.

5:00 PM The lady called us monsters, and we said we weren’t. The crowd’s pretty sure we’re not monsters. The lady said we killed the mayor. We said we didn’t; we just arrived via rabbit hole. The crowd believes us. Now the dude’s gonna speak to us in private.

5:40 PM He told us what was going on. Apparently, we found a sanctuary under armed protection. Apparently, we’re in East Saint Louis, Illinois. Just a little further west is the state of Missouri, actually. Apparently, the organization protecting this town calls themselves “Operation: Rise Against Fear.” It's a reference to the international organization, but word is flaky on if they're actually related. And apparently, the organization’s logo is a faceless suited man flipping off the slender man. Are you starting to get the picture, journal? Okay, last clue: A good portion of the people in this town keep a Guy Fawkes mask with them. These guys are Anonymous. ..well, I mean, to be exact, they were formed by various members of Anonymous. That was kind of a big project, after all. But this was one of their branches. They must be at least competent at defending people?

5:45 PM The guy I’ve been speaking to tells me a black dog’s been spotted. Well, he said the black dog. Because apparently the Black Dog is a Fear. It’s said to be a deathly omen.

7:21 PM Donnie and I have decided we’re not gonna leave these guys on their own. We’re spending the night with these guys. We support their cause. Besides, it’s about time we stood up to the Fears.

8:19 PM Dinner time, hell yes.

8:22 PM Good god. The whole town has gathered into this hall just to receive some food. These guys look skinnier than I expected.

8:30 PM I was just asked why I’ve got so much meat on my bones. …I don’t. o_o I'm kinda unhealthily thin?

8:41 PM This man wants Donnie to go with him. I asked if I can go along. Donnie assured me she’ll be fine. ..well, okay. ._.;;

9:05 PM Donnie’s back. She says the man told her we look like Fears; people don’t trust us. Apparently, it’s because we look too young, too normal. Everyone around here’s pretty much either starving or dying of some disease, and here we are, two relatively not-bad-looking kids with absurd clothing and strange weapons just waltzing on in via rabbit hole! So he gave her two Guy Fawkes masks to disguise ourselves. And then he tried to make some advances on her. She says she took good care of that problem, though; Donnie can really take care of herself. ..she winced a little after saying it. ._.

9:39 PM The people around here are offering us a place to stay. Well. I mean. I guess sleeping would be nice!

11:00 PM Knock knock. I’ll get it.

11:01 PM Oh, it’s an Anon. See, Guy Fawkes mask. It’s the mark of the culture. :3 ..o____o SHUTTHEDOOR WHATTHEFUCK WHATTHEFUCK WHATTHEFUCK THATWASN’TANANON OHMYGOD OHMYGOD WHATTHEFUCK That guy’s mask wasn’t a mask, it was his face. o__e Its mouth moved, its eyes blunk, it breathed. whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

11:05 PM Donnie took a peek outside. There’s no one out there now. Ohhhhh, I have a bad feeling about this.

11:08 PM Guy Fawkes masks? In the trash.

11:11 PM I WISH SHIT WOULD GO WELL FOR US. I wish shit would go so well for us. ohgod

11:13 PM At the heavy advisement of my cohort, I’m.. I’m going to try to get some sleep.

11:20 PM We’re talking about methods of relaxation and stopping panic. Donnie knows a lot about it. ..hugging her.

11:35 PM ..are you sure you’re okay, ma’am? After all the excitement and after that guy.. “I’m fine.” You’re shaking. “I don't want to talk about it.” Well… you don't have to. But I want to say something. Donnie, you've been an angel to me, placing your trust in me and working to keep me up and going. Ever since we met, you've been an unexpected friend, flawless and selfless. And I need to do the same for you. I need to back you up. I need to listen to you. And I need to make sure you know that we're in this together. I've got your back. …"Thanks." We're not in a safe place here, I don't think. We're getting back on the road tomorrow. "Yeah. That's a good idea." ...I'm going to hug you now, if that's alright. "Please do."

(Attached: “As an aside: The narrative of the world, as it were, doesn’t quite match the flow of Jordan’s journals. When he and Donnie were trapped in Blackpool, a team of scientists in South America had the idea to sail to Antarctica and hold a global convention with lead scientists from the rest of the world. Contrary to what one might expect, that actually worked. In fact, the plan may have been communicated a little bit too well. When the day of the convention came– I believe the date was June 30th, not that it’s important– the hall was well beyond capacity. One headcount later, and they realized they were trapped on a frozen continent with Camper. Jump forward to this date, that of July 13th, and the narrative of the world had hit a sort of rock bottom. China had completely abandoned its west half, electing to migrate east for reasons I’m actually not all that sure about. I think it was a nasty case of Eldritch Bear. Either that or the abundant fertile soil in the east. Yeah, maybe it was that one. South Africa, however, may have been the only country not totally lost of hope. Their local sect of Rise Against Fear-ites were quite successful in recruiting members, and as much as the Fears like to boast about their ‘eldritch’ this and 'incomprehensible’ that, they don’t really fare well when against literal armies of gunfire and all-terrain vehicles. But yeah, generally people were fucked. See, for another example, Sweden. What’s that? You can’t see it? Not anymore.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[bluedragonbooks]

Adjacent 11

Running.

Running across a soggy field in the rain.

Elric had the Wizard over one shoulder, his Sword in his other hand and was legging it for a rocky outcrop. Gerry and I had 2 packs each and followed in hot pursuit. In between complaining about his dignity; and extorting Elric to "run faster you fool"; the Wizard fired off the odd fireball which seemed to have zero effect on our pursuer; other than possibly making it even more angry.

I risked a glance over my shoulder and measured the rapidly shrinking distance between myself and the biggest beak I'd ever seen and compared it to the distance to the rocky outcrop. We weren't going to make it.

A moment of terror induced clarity made me reach into my satchel, grab a vial, loosen the stopper and turn and hurl it straight into the beast’s gullet before turning and running.

About 20 paces later the growls of the beast stopped, and there was a distinct thud; I risked turning and having a look as the beast's momentum carried it to my feet. I prodded it, possibly dead, but definitely asleep. I called the others back and had Elric relieve it of its head to be sure.

"What did you do?" inquired the Wizard.

"Sleeping Syrup, enough to lay-down 50 Men for an amputation. My whole stock unfortunately, minus the 3 drops I used on Gerry."

"Shit, ... 3 drops" said Gerry, "Yeah" said Elric.

"What was it exactly?" I asked pointing at the beast.

"Griffon" said the Wizard, "Very territorial, seems it took offence at us taking shelter in its cave and lighting that fire."

"You don't say" I added sarcastically, "Good Eating?" I asked.

"No"

"Ah, well at least we've still got it's cave." I ventured.

"It'll have a mate, and possibly a clutch at this time of year. Have I mentioned they're territorial?"

"Bugger" said Elric.

...

"Gerry, are you any good with a bow?"

"Average, I can hit a shield at 100 paces - but that's about it."

"That's good enough. Wizard, are you willing to spring for a Bow and a Quiver full of arrows? I figure you owe me that much for saving your scrawny arse from the Griffon."

"What are you planning Dafid?" I must have hit a nerve; he usually calls me ‘lad’.

"I was planning to restock my Syrup at the next village using my supply of Mother Syrup. Now, I don't expect I'll be as lucky with a hand thrown vial next time we encounter a Griffon or something; But I was thinking; We normally dilute 1 measure of the Mother Syrup with 100 of Brandy to make the Sleeping Syrup. I reckon dipping an arrowhead in a mixture of Mother Syrup and pitch or pine tar would let Gerry give Elric a bit of help in an emergency, and at 100 paces at that."

...

As a village Healer you're just as likely to be called to tend an animal as a person. Now, I knew a large Horse weighed as much as 5 big men.

"Wizard, that Griffon - would it weigh as much as 5 large horses?"

"Probably."

"And are we likely to meet anything much bigger?"

"Other than a Dragon ... no."

Right then, so a Griffon weighed as much as 25 large men. 5 drops per man, 25 drops to the measure … 5 measures of Sleeping Syrup was enough to put 25 men to sleep, or a Griffon ... hopefully.

One Measure of Mother Syrup made 100 measures of Sleeping Syrup, which meant one measure of Mother should be enough for 20 arrows. Except, the only test had been at twice that dose, and I had no way to safely test a lower dose. Unless we went back to the cave …

So, if my 10-measure vial of Sleeping Syrup had taken the Griffon down quickly; best to use 2 measures of Mother Syrup for 20 arrows ... to be on the safe side.

Now we were getting somewhere. I just had to figure what I could mix it with to make it stick ... that wouldn't spoil it; and then figure out how to test it.

...

"Gerry, do you trust me"

"Of course."

"Do you trust me enough to let me stab you with a small pointy stick tipped with Sleeping Syrup?"

"Last time I was out of my head with lust for a day and a half."

Shit - Time to fess up. I'd been hoping to avoid this.

"This Sleeping Syrup should only affect you for 6 hours; and it'll just make you sleep; last time ... last time I used an enchantment ... but only to make you horny and help with your shyness; and I'm sorry but I forgot to break the enchantment before I left, and I only remembered later.

"Oh, so you tricked me ... tricked me into wanting you?" He sounded hurt.

"No, I didn't trick you; I knew you wanted me, and I wanted you too. But we needed to get away ... and even after the lights were out ... remember ... remember you were too shy to come into my cell, even after I took my clothes off."

"You came back to my cell 3 times after the lights went out, and you still didn't come in. I didn't use the enchantment until then."

"Oh" I could tell he was still hurt.

I kissed him, but he didn't respond.

"Would it make you feel better if I let you stab me instead? and let you use me while I sleep?" This wasn't ideal, I needed to monitor how it affected someone and being the someone would complicate that.

He grinned at the thought. "I'll let you stab me, but I get to fuck you first, and then again tomorrow after I wake up."

"You can fuck me every night for a week if you want."

I started by taking off my clothes.

[yoshimonster]

Blog Post #4: It’s Dance Time

So I didn’t write a blog earlier, even though I definitely could have after all of the dancing I did. It was a standard Friday and honestly I can’t wait to not go back next week. I honestly hope that I have significantly turned over my life in other aspects so that my default the ongoing dance sting will reduce. I’ve heard that bad things only get better if you put enough time and energy in other aspects of your life.

Well, honestly things can’t get any worse. They probably can but I am really hoping they don’t. I actually spent forever today cleaning my room and it was quite an intense endeavour. I think I’ve probably cleaned about 50% of it and honestly I have to keep it this way to avoid future conflicts and issues with finding stuff. The way that I’ve just been so unaware yet aware of random stuff in my room is actually ridiculous. And to be honest, the only reason I am moderately aware is because of unavoidable developments that happened in my life over the past year/year and a half.

The (post?) pandemic boredom is actually hitting pretty hard – it feels like I’ve woken up from a long slumber where I was the only one dreaming. Like those dreams you have where you fall but never really hit the ground at all. Constantly in between two locations; your neither on the ground or on the cliff – just up the air somewhere sort of lost, floating like the breeze. Unfortunately, the pandemic made me re-evaluate more than just surviving studies wise, it also made me re-evaluate my life habits at home and definitely we still spend way too much time at home with this recession happening all around the world. I guess this is actually a blessing in disguise but as usual I’m so very accustomed to that instant gratification lifestyle.

Right now, I’m cram watching Haikyuu, a sports volleyball anime, which is extremely popular, though I’m fairly late to the train, so I can talk about more with my friend. The origin story in Episode 1 is so heartwarming and the animation is so beautiful; to draw like that would actually be so cool! Alas, it really isn’t my forte.

Besides that, I tried to have an honest conversation with parents but it did turn into a lecture as usual. I think my point was mostly about expressing care in various ways, which if I’m being completely frank, they have done more than enough. It just sucks that things weren’t more clear to me earlier in life and I really missed quite a few experiences with them. It also has to do with how much I use technology and how I never really was physically bored enough to try to be more creative. These days I’m working on it and sometimes time just flies and other times it really doesn’t. There’s so much to catch up on!

Finally, just a quick update from this morning and Saturday, have sort of resolved the money situation with the Taylor Swift tickets it will cost me quite a bit but hopefully will be able to be a bit more conscious moving forward. Another thing, I have been feeling much better about my room – I finally cleaned more than half of it and am going to finish up while catching up on YouTube/Barbie movies. The amount of plans I’m making is actually insane – like this is what I get for being a hermit all semester long. I also am going to do more maths revision, haven’t done so for a few days now because of the room situation.

If you guys made it till this end, thank you so much, although I’m pretty sure no one in reading this update about my life. But yep as usual, will be dreading dance again every Friday – it’s basically a weekly humbling/ridiculing session directed at me. What a high case of self-consciousness that is. I honestly found it better to perform when I was in newer environments.

-yoshimonster-

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 56

 The Zero Hour – Part 2.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. The 0 hour.

The alarm did not stop, and the robotic, female voice continued to repeat in a loop: Environmental malfunction, laboratory sub-section six. All lab chiefs, please report in. Adam took his phone out of his pants pocket and dialled the Head of Cyber Security’s number.

"Pritchard, I'm at Sarif's so maybe you can explain to me the reason for this alarm in subsection six of the labs," he said in a nervous tone. "I'm the one who triggered it. We're checking security with Laura and Connor. Everything is under control," he replied. "You should have done it earlier!" "Princess was resting. There was no time."

Jensen didn't want to argue with him, especially since Sarif heard everything so he just hung up.

"Everything's fine, boss. Pritchard must have checked new security features. The alarm is about to go off," he informed. "For God's sake! Couldn't he have done it earlier?" "You know him boss. He's always been like that," The Security Chief evaded further explanation, not wanting Laura to have any more problems. Admittedly, she had the day off, but in an emergency situation she should be at the company. For Pritchard, these emergencies happen every second. "You're right. If it weren't for his outstanding skills, I would have fired him long ago."

Sarif Industries Underground parking lot. 10 minutes past midnight.

Five black armoured vans impetuously broke the railings prohibiting access to the parking lot. A security guard fell out of the guardhouse armed with a pistol, seeking to respond to the intrusion. A single shot hit the concrete ceiling, and the man's body shook with spasms. A short burst from an automatic rifle perforated him like a sieve, spraying pearls of blood into the air. His bulletproof vest did not help. The bodyguard fell inertly to the ground next to his baseball cap with the Sarif Industries logo. His dead stare was frozen on the wall of the watchtower, partially stripped of paint. The roar of engines filled the space. Another series of shots were fired. A woman's scream, a man's terror. Several guards fell lifeless before they could reach for their holstered weapons. The faint lights of the ceiling lamps blinked rhythmically. Almost 50 people poured out of the vans like a sea. They were dressed in black military-style body armor with red elements and balaclavas. One of them, probably the squad leader, ordered his subordinates to split up with a hand gesture. Half moved down the fire stairs, while the other moved through the double doors of the warehouse, which were blown up almost without any sound.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. 15 minutes past midnight.

Another message appeared on the screen in Sarif's office. This time it came from the lobby. Adam was beginning to have doubts, but if something had happened, he would know about it.

"Boss, I'm going back to my office. I need to make sure it's still Frank." "But, son!" David tried to stop him. "Please secure the office. No one but me is allowed to enter!" he ordered.

Sarif was far from believing that someone could have attacked them, but he followed the order. After all, that's what one has a Security Chief for.

Adam fell out into the corridor, and his body was immediately paralysed by pain radiating upward from his knee. The man clenched his teeth, cursing in his mind that this was happening just now, and with a nervous movement took out a Vicodin from his pants pocket. He took two pills at once. Athene was not at the reception desk. Apparently she took the alarm seriously. The elevator was upstairs so he rode it down to his office, from which he took his gun, the Colt revolver that had been his faithful and reliable companion for many years, and some spare ammo. He also put on a bulletproof vest over a brown turtleneck sweater.

After leaving the office, he looked down at the lobby. There were only guards there ready to take action. He wanted to speak to Pritchard in person, but protecting the boss was his priority at the moment. Adam was afraid for Laura, but if Connor was there, he was sure he would be better protection. Jensen returned to Sarif's office and used the code to go through a door covered by an shell-proof wall. He was surprised to see David pointing a gun at him, which he lowered as soon as he saw that the newcomer posed no threat to him.

"I checked the Lobby. Only our guards are there," he informed.

Another wave of pain almost dazed him. With difficulty, he managed not to show anything afterwards.

Sarif Industries Chief of Cyber Security’s office. 25 minutes past midnight.

Pritchard was pleased to see everything going according to plan. The video surveillance showed perfect tranquillity, even all too beautiful. Laura felt a growing anxiety. Every alarm had the same effect on her, so she partly tried to control that unbearable feeling of fear. No one suspected that what they saw was far from the truth.

"The area is clear. Sarif's dog returned to the doghouse. Whaler's squad can enter," one of the guards heard in the earpiece.

Everyone left the lobby, heading for the floor. A hand could be seen in the ajar door of one of the restrooms, and the interior of the room was filled with corpses of real security guards. Cameras mirrored the hallways, but Frank didn't really have control over any of them.

"I think we can cancel the alarm in about 10 minutes," Pritchard muttered. "See? I have everything under control. You'll make it to Washington in time for tomorrow's speech."

Sarif Industries Sewers and ventilation tunnels. 30 minutes past midnight.

Three people reached the right manhole, which was supposed to be in the station that provides water supply to the building.

"Fuck, Namir! You're fucked up for this shit walking!" growled a man with light hair and the posture of a bull. He looked down at his heavy boots in disgust. "Shut the fuck up, Barrett!" replied a thin man with a body that looked like muscles stripped from the skin. "Calm down, both of you!" the only woman on the team tried to bring order. "We have a job to do. The Whalers have already entered, the Belltower too, so move your fucking arses."

A foreign accent, probably Russian, could be heard in her speech. The left half of her head was shaved bald, and the right half showed shoulder-length dark hair. She had an earring in her nose, similar to those which bulls had.

"Holy shit, didn't they have smaller hatches!" complained Barrett once he managed to get out. "It's a good thing we're talking through Infolink, otherwise the whole fucking company would already know about us," commented Namir.

Yelena opened the metal door and looked out into a basement corridor full of pipes, fuse boxes and cables. It was illuminated by a pale, yellowish light. All three of them found the place where the wall was weakened in a split second. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing and where to go.

"Smash the wall Barrett," ordered Namir. "Smash it, knock it down, kill it," he said with displeasure. "I'd rather fuck some nice, tight arse. Like that one which the girl with blue hair had." "After all, you didn't like her because she squalled like a butchered hog," Namir reminded. "True, but once she quieted down it was great."

Lawrence clenched his robotic hand into a fist, which he effortlessly turned a piece of concrete into rubble. They passed through a hole from which metal bars protruded, and tight corridors led them further down. Through thick pipes, they climbed higher up to a square ventilation grille. Barrett could barely fit through the rather cramped space and made it almost impossible for them to get out. They found themselves in a storage room with cleaning supplies.

"Subsection six of the labs," Namir said. "We are in place. You know what to do."

They all activated their cloaking systems, then stepped out into the corridor. Yelena moved nimbly on her robotic black limbs, which looked like the legs of a ballerina. They didn't fire a single shot. They were here to settle the matter quietly, hitting a specific target without making a mess. Of course, they couldn't vouch for the Belltower squad or the Whalers, whom they didn't even know and didn't know why they were here.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 35 minutes past midnight.

"Berlin reports that Delta squad has taken position. We are waiting for further orders," the Belltower mercenary informed through the communicator. "Roger. Do not fire without order. Prague out."

A man in black armour with red elements and a balaclava looked out the door into the corridor as soon as he heard the explosion.

"Fuck, this wasn't in the plan," he cursed under his breath. "Who the fuck is responsible for this mess?!" he yelled through the communicator. "It's none of ours. Maybe the Whalers? Besides, it was nothing big, it looked like some sort of diversion. Berlin out."

A group of people dressed in scientists' uniforms ran out of the room from which the noise came. Several Sarif Industries guards directed them to the emergency exits, but they never reached them. They were killed along the way and it was done quietly.

"Knife of Dunwall reports that the Whalers are already in the labs," said new voice. "Great. Those explosions are you guys?" "Confirmed. Actions necessary during a fire drill. Moving on to the next point of the plan. Starting looking for data." "What about the cameras? I don't want to have all the security on my neck." "We have full control over security. The boys are keeping an eye on everything. Knife of Dunwall out."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. Forty minutes past midnight.

Five people sat on the floor in one of the empty offices. They were all dressed in black pants, tucked into knee-high leather boots, grey shirts and navy blue coats. Their faces were covered by masks resembling those protecting them from gas. Attached to each person's head were two cables. The end of one was in a computer socket, while the other was plugged into a data storage disk. Their eyes blinked with dizzying speed, opening wide after a moment. Then it was possible to see strings of numbers and letters scrolling through them. The Whalers were unaware of what was happening outside. They were locked in a room and had only one goal – find and copy relevant data, then destroy the original one. Their brains scanned through millions of files, filtering them piece by piece. They knew that what they were looking for was in the server room G.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 45 minutes past midnight.

After the alarm was called off, everyone returned to their tasks. Only a few felt some strange anxiety, but they explained it by nervousness before leaving. In the main hall, they were finishing packing the necessary things and verifying data. The order of speeches and their text were being checked.

"I hope this alarm hasn't disturbed you too much in your preparations?" said Dr. Reed, who was just coming down the wide staircase.

She observed all the research stations full of microscopes, test tubes, containers and boxes. On the walls of the huge room, occupying at least two floors, between which the ceiling had been removed, hung screens with X-ray images. From the shorter sides protruded rooms reaching from the ceiling to halfway up, storing toxic substances.

"Just in time Dr. Reed!" shouted one of the scientists. "We couldn't start without you." "Begin what?" the woman asked in surprise, rolling her eyes at the faces of those gathered. "Celebrations. I know it's still early, but I think a little toast wouldn't hurt." "Out of the question," protested the woman firmly. "We don't drink alcohol before the DC." "It's just a cup of lemonade. Please do not deny us," urged Nia. "All right, but we don't have much time." "In that case, let's drink to the success of our research!" suggested Eric.

Everyone raised their plastic cups in a toast gesture. Megan was about to say a few words at the urging, but was called back to the office. Nia and Eric also left to check carefully if they had done everything they should. The rest decided to spend their free time talking with friends. There were jokes and a huge amount of laughter. Someone climbed up on one of the research stations to make a few more toasts.

The eyes of the five Whalers stopped moving, freezing in a ghastly goggle. Everything they were supposed to get was on a disk lying on the ground, and all of the original data was destroyed. A moment later, the door to the office opened. A man in a red coat, black pants and knee-high boots materialized, then took the disk with him.

"Delilah," he said, and the heads of all five exploded. Immediately the rest of their bodies disintegrated to make identification difficult. "Knife of Dunwall reports that the Rat Plague operation has been successfully completed," he said into the communicator. "Roger. Prague out," he heard in reply, and the connection was cut. "Berlin, begin Operation Harvester." "Yes, sir. Berlin out."

The scientist who had entered the research station was just about to make another toast.

"Let's drink to our friendship and..."

The man didn't have time to finish. He wobbled and fell over onto his back hitting his head against a container made of hard plastic-like material. His body rolled inertly onto the graphite floor. A bullet hole was visible in the middle of his forehead. Someone screamed, someone froze into immobility. Chaos reigned. No one knew what had happened. At first they thought their colleague was joking. Someone brave enough checked the heart rate and shook his head sadly. Soon the room was filled with Belltower mercenaries. They murdered without blinking an eye, without a shadow of mercy they killed those lying down with a shot to the head. They knocked over bottles, threw down equipment, started fires. One of the scientists managed to run to the wall and hit the alarm button. He sank to the ground with his arm outstretched, and the room was filled with red flashing lights and wailing sirens. Soon Belltower had most of the area under control.

The Tyrants after receiving the report about the data takeover, proceeded to destroy everything they could. A symphony of gunfire rang out in the corridors and offices. Fire extinguishers exploded, people screamed, documents burned. Chaos reigned.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. Ten minutes to one in the morning.

"You unnecessarily panicked," Sarif complained. "Those are the procedures, boss," replied Adam. "Yes, yes, I know son," he cut the subject, not wanting to hear about the details. "Since everything is in order, we can already fly to Washington." "Let's wait some more..."

Another alarm interrupted their conversation. This time the previous message was joined by another about fires and explosions. Jensen knew that this was not a fire drill. He also knew that Megan was in the labs. Panic paralysed him.

"Can't this day be normal?!" growled David. "Adam, check what happened, maybe it's just some kind of malfunction, a misreading of the situation." "I was just about to do that," he replied, heading for the exit. "Wait. Use my elevator. It will be faster. Do you remember the code?" "0451"

The boss nodded his head. He looked like he wasn't worried or afraid at all. He looked like he was sure that his company was like a fortress that no one could destroy.

Sarif Industries Office of the Head of Cyber Security. Nine minutes to one in the morning.

"Laura, check sectors L1-L4. Connor, you take care of L5-L7, and I'll check the rest," Pritchard ordered.

At the moment there was no time for discussion and argument. The situation looked serious so they had to hurry. They sat down at the computers that stood at the back of the room and tried to figure out what might have happened.

"I don't have access to the cameras in the labs," Connor informed them. "Frank! Someone hacked the cameras in the lobby! We saw a false image the whole time," the woman said. "Fucking hell!" "Connor, let's try to take over at least one camera. We need to know what happened there," Laura said, although deep down she already knew the truth. All she needed was confirmation and she felt it wouldn't make her feel any better.

Together they launched a simultaneous attack, pushing out the enemy hacker.

"Frank, you need to see this," Connor ordered.

The woman was unable to utter a single word. She sat in front of the monitor, covering her mouth with her hand. The frame showed the scientist's body perforated like a sieve. The walls were smeared with blood. Moments later, music flowed from speakers throughout the company.

Boom boom boom boom Gonna shoot you right down Take you in my arms I'm in love with you Love that is true Boom boom boom boom

The message was obvious but only Laura knew it. She felt herself suffocating as if someone had pumped all the air out of the room. In a split second she realized what she had done - she had murdered innocent people. The woman knew Damien was unpredictable, but not to that extent. She herself opened the gate for him, which was a piece of code, the one considered safe, but about which Connor had doubts. She had lied to him. Unknowingly, but she lied.

"Pritchard, where's Megan. Did she report in yet?" Adam's voice spoke through the office speaker. "Her G-P-L implant shows she's moving through micro-chem labs," the Cyber Security Chief replied. "Do you have a camera view?" "No, something from outside is interfering with it. Laura and Connor managed to take over one of them but not for long. We saw a dead scientist. It's not good, Jensen. You need to hurry up."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. One o'clock at night.

Adam was somewhat reassured by the news that Laura was safe. This allowed him to focus on his task. During the elevator ride, he checked the cylinder of his Colt. He involuntarily clenched his hand on the grip so tightly that it went numb. Subsection six greeted him with the stench of burning, gunpowder and spilled chemicals. Most of the rooms along the corridor he patrolled stood in flames. Scattered pieces of paper, containers and destroyed doors lay on the ground. Glass crunched under the soles of his shoes as he walked forward. His hearing was sensitive to every sound. Fluorescent lights and severed cables dangled from the ceiling, hissing and crackling in an abrupt manner. Jensen crouched by the man's corpse he encountered, turning it over on its back. In addition to multiple bullet wounds on his torso, he found one on his forehead. Such methods of execution were used by mercenaries or special units. There were many of both so he couldn't clearly pinpoint the perpetrator. He needed more clues. When he stood up and looked in front of him for a split second he had a feeling as if space had curved. It seemed to him that he saw someone. Shaking his head, he looked again. This time the corridor was completely normal so he decided that it was just an illusion. He should hurry, but in addition to finding Megan, he also wanted to know the culprit. The leg spoke up at the worst possible moment. The Security Chief opened the Vicodin package tossing the pills onto his palm. There were only three left. It had to be enough. He took one and moved on.

"Help! I'm begging! Is there anybody out here?!" he suddenly heard a call so he quickened his pace.

The corridor turned right and continued straight ahead, but the way was blocked by a bulkhead. A scientist standing on the other side was pounding his fists on the thick glass, which showed bullet marks.

"Please help me. This is a slaughterhouse. They're all dead!" he yelled, and panic burned in his eyes. "You'll be free in no time," he assured, though it was insincere.

Adam pressed the button on the wall responsible for lifting the partition, but he knew perfectly well that it would do nothing. He tried to call for help through the communicator he had in his ear but no one responded.

"I don't want to..."

Another body slumped to the ground. Adam spotted a man. Unnaturally massive, but he disappeared too quickly. He wade further ahead, trying to call Pritchard, but the communication was broken.

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]