#there’s always five layers between the engineers and the ground crew

[eyeofnewtblog]

So, my dad does a bridge school at the university he teaches at (his is held in January and is a 4 day refresher course for professionals) but honestly, any one young who is interested in civil engineering…making popsicle stick bridges is where it starts.

The number one question is always “how much stupidity/natural disaster can you build against with the budget you’ve been given” and then the construction workers get to the design and go “oh fuck this engineer, he’s never spent a single day on the job site”

One, female engineers are always eager and encouraged early on, but then they run into the Good Old Boys Club. My dad is in the Club, kind of, but he literally married a female engineer back in the 80’s and is pretty upset when women drop out of the major or (like my mom) constantly run into issues where misogyny is a major factor (screaming tantrums out of a 50+ man) in upper management.

Two, construction workers who are handed the materials list and the blueprint are 90% of the time complaining about the fact that while they’re given the most “efficient” design for structural integrity and materials, they’re going to be labor intensive to either maintain, install, or repair.

Take the 2002 Volkswagen Beetle. What fucking engineer decided to put the steering fluid pump line OVER the timing belt? It DOES make the engine more compact. It does. It also requires, as part of regular maintenance, that you UNPLUG a line that is an absolute bitch to reconnect, and should only require maintenance or repair once every two years, to be disconnected JUST so that you can replace a belt that needs to be replaced “as needed” which really just means once a year if you buy the cheapest replacement.

And engineers DO THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS. Their job is to weigh costs of maintenance, repair, sustainability.

But the reality is that if they get paid big bucks to come up with “the most efficient design” they’ll also, as part of their licensing, be required to report the drawbacks of said design.

To be fair, some inefficient aspects only pop up after manufacturing the product. But the fact remains that corporations deliberately ignore stated engineering concerns or warnings based on aesthetic, planned obsolescence, etc. That, or manufacturing costs cause corporations to deliberately ignore engineering manufacturing requirements for a design from the very start.

Or! Plus, there really is a more efficient design and the market hasn’t caught on yet! This happens with aftermarket car parts a lot.

I guess long story short, I’m very happy that these girls are getting to test out legit bridge designs and that they have the same experiences my dad gave me and my sisters (every single science experiment issued by a teacher was met with “do you wanna build bridges or test concrete? A shrug is not a choice, here’s a quarter, heads for concrete tails for bridges.”) and while I have absolutely zero interest in building bridges or testing the strength of concrete as a living, I’m really glad that someone is making it an interesting group project for young people. I’m also glad that I was raised by engineers and am capable of thinking logically about structural integrity and cost management.

[firedragon1321]

I think Boy Gender might have saved Sora Takenouchi (I'm projecting, this post was made by a man dot jpeg, etc).

So yeah- I'm rotating a trans Sora AU. And it's teaching me the difference between AU, meta, and headcanon. Like it seems obvious but the lines have blurred over the years. And it's so magical and freeing to say "this is an AU and it's my playground". That said, there are meta elements in this post. So I tagged it as such. But it's mostly AU.

I say this bullshit because Sora's entire arc in Adventure is about reconciling with her mother and her femininity. That's how her story was always intended to be written. Her job in the epilogue is the final culmination of that. I can see how all of that was intended to work. Even if I don't personally like it.

But there's like. Such fertile ground for this AU. How accepting that feminine role drove Sora further and further into the background, away from her friends. And into a state so depressingly finalized that her Digivice spawned a timer, separating her from Biyomon. And how she worked best with everyone else when in a "take charge" role- albeit as "team mom", but refusing to sit on the sidelines based on gender.

There's also how Biyomon's evolutions get progressively masculine, and Biyomon is part of Sora's soul. Like I don't know how Phoenixmon fits into that. But look at this-

The instant Biyomon reaches her Champion form, she takes on a less traditionally feminine shape. And Garudamon is more masculine than feminine in build. Plus- and I only researched this for five seconds so I could be wrong- "Garuda," is also a male Hindu deity (and also a shape shifter and protector- just like a Digimon partner!). In tri, Birdramon has more pronounced eyelashes, the same way Minnie Mouse has eyelashes to denote her gender. But other than that...

Also this gives me the opportunity to mess around with Crests and how they work. Like, even in this AU, Sora would have the Crest of Love. I feel like its nature as compassion and caring will always be relevant to the character. But like. Wouldn't it be cool if the Crests themselves evolved? Like if the design changed with new revelations as the characters aged? Still the same in color and concept, but representing a more mature person.

For most of the Adventure crew, this would be standard character development stuff. For Sora? Gender.

I'd plant the seeds in Adventure, going more into detail as to what Sora's mother represents- traditional femininity- and how that wouldn't be merely annoying, but wrong. Like puppet strings that wind around the neck. I don't think Sora would have the words for that sensation yet. But the wrongness would be there. Even through forgiveness. And meeting halfway.

But in 02, Sora would realize where those feelings come from. Why the soccer pitch feels like home, and the flower shop a cage. I need more details but it's 4 AM and this is a general outline. But basically...

The 02 gang would get in trouble (after the ability to Digivice to Ultimate/Mega is restored to the OG gang). Only Sora could save them, due to being the only one available to go on the field. The enemy? A fuckton of Blossomon. For the symbolism. But mainly, there's too many for the 02 characters to handle, and they're split in a configuration where Jogress to Imperialdramon is impossible. Basically, a situation engineered so only Sora can resolve it.

Garudamon fights her hardest. But the numbers are too intense even for her. A Blossomon wraps its vines around Garudamon, trapping her. And to Sora, that vine on her partner's neck just seems so familiar.

Blossomon spits generic villain taunts about knowing one's place. This prompts Sora to peel back the layers of her own life. She thought her place was at her mother's flower shop. That's what forgiveness meant, right? But reconciliation is a two way street. She gave and gave and received nothing.

Not for the ache in her heart.

Not for the wrongness in her body.

Not for the vines choking her life.

And digging into her own neglected heart, she'd discover the soul of a man. It would be frightening and confusing. But it would also hold the strength she needs to win this battle.

That he needs to protect everyone.

And the Crest of Love within him would glow. Its shape would become less feminine, but still represent the love that Sora possesses. Like hands holding, or a stylized stone- the rock the others can rely on.

And of course Garudamon would digivolve- into Phoenixmon or something else- and save the day. Leaving Sora confused and shaken. He might even try to deny what happened. But the Crests never lie, and their power does not come from nothing.

So by tri., he'd be more masc-presenting (excluding school uniforms) as his mother falters. But Sora would hold out hope. And continue to love. So by Kizuna, he's met halfway at last, and can openly live as who he was always meant to be.

I do like the idea of Crest evolution in general and might revisit it. But for now this is loose word-vomit and more of wish fulfillment than anything substantial.

[carionto]

The spirit never dies, but please watch over it

(Previously)

"What are you doing, Captain?"

"What? Going outside of course. Uncharted lands and all that. You said the atmosphere is mostly harmless and I even put on my suit. You can't stop me, Zhao. I outrank you. So there!"

Captain Knoslark of the crash-landed Radiant Dusk at Everest made this declaration pretty much the moment the chief engineer said we weren't going to be flying anytime soon. Something about the warp jump frying all quantum-based computers and connections. Oh yeah, can't contact Earth or anyone really.

Turns out going through a hole in space-time really does breaks quantum entanglement, so that kinda sucks. Or perhaps even that has limits on distance, the furthest anyone tested was from one end of the Milky Way to the other. Or maybe there is something in the physics of space between galaxies that we don't understand yet.

Regardless, we're totally alone and roughly 12 to 30 billion light years from home, depending on if we landed in the target galaxy or one that moved into its place from the time when the light from it reached us. Every celestial body being unknown leaves a lot of room for guessing.

Now, given the circumstances, a normal ship and crew would not permit this and simply declare the captain unfit for duty and his second would take over. However, we are a crew of 27 civilian engineers, researchers, scientists, and technicians, and only a third have some military training, the captain not being one of them, and all of us are... a bit on the odd side.

In short, three people eagerly volunteered to join the captain on his expedition outside - Engineer Emily Halliday, Physicist/Botanist/Microchemist/(and like five other PhDs) Haespar Kraus, and Trisha, no last name, she just appeared aboard a few years back and is generally helpful and real fun to hang out with, she knows so much random trivia.

The world outside was... flat, but layered. Some areas only had very small types of vegetation, think like a grassy field, but orange with grey flower-like clusters everywhere. Then there is basically a hard cut wall of this deep red and brown bushes and small trees with super wide trunks that suddenly jut out in their area. And the tall spindly trees? that kinda resemble stretched out cobwebs and have this hazy transparent look to them except at the top where it's a really rich green field of dense foliage.

There's some variations further out, but that's the general idea. Almost like someone haphazardly painted with only base colors on a canvas and refused to mix or gradient them.

"We are entering the red bushes now. I feel a tingling sensation, Zhao. This is fun! I wonder if we'll encounter animals here. If we're stuck here for too long we'll have to start farming. I've always wanted to be a rancher, you know, but space beckoned me!"

"Yes, captain, I know. Please be careful and return from your trip soon. Trisha, knock him out if he tries to bring back a pet."

"I heard that, Zhao!" "I know, don't make Trisha knock you out." "Hmmph. You're no fun." "I am paid to not be, sir."

There was a bit of grumbling before Knoslark ended the call on his end. Thankfully, the other three kept their channels open, as you are meant to do, so the onboard crew always knew what was going on. Unfortunately, drones are one of the things that utilize quantum connections to operate, so it'll take time to refit them to receive radio signals.

Suddenly, nearly all of the scanners and receivers on the ship noticed a variety of new signals and distant sounds - explosions. Repeating ones. And... are those fireworks? Since the Dusk was grounded it couldn't really properly scan the whole planet, just the area immediately around them, so they had no idea if this was inhabited by anything resembling a civilization.

Not long after that, there were physical impact signals coming from the North-East side of the ship. Cameras revealed there were several groups of quadrupedal creatures not unlike rhinos with giraffe necks mounted by smaller bipedal ones that sorta resemble moths, but made of jelly and fish scales?

"Captain, Emily, Kraus, Trish! Get back to the Dusk right now, there's natives on this planet and they don't like the ship." Sergeant Zhao shouted into the comms.

"Gonna be a moment, Ying." Trisha replied, "The Cap'n got himself stuck on a tree. Some kinda sticky fungus lives on the higher branches, we're working on choppin' it down."

"Well hurry, the density of the heightened vegetation makes it impossible to see with our scanners what's inside. You might not have much time."

"We'll be done in a-

The words got cut off by the whole cobweb-tree area rapidly ascending, revealing a titanic creature of fur, mud, and countless short but lumbering limbs coming out of the ground, just as the local star began to set over this world. All other similar patches did the same. The shorter red bush areas then began to glow a faint blue releasing little clouds of dust just above. The titans made their way over these hazy spots, and remain stood there for the time being.

The assault on the Dusk by the locals had ceased during this commotion. Aside from the hum of the single active reactor, everyone was silent for a few minutes, broken by Trisha coming back on:

"Ying, we're fine it looks like, but you got a better view than us, what are we on?"

"Uhh, a giant... headless moss turtle thing? It's not the only one and seems did not act because of you, so you should be fine, but hurry back here." Sergeant Zhao then addressed the onboard crew:

"Drop whatever it is you're doing and get a shuttle working NOW. I don't care how basic, I'll fly it manually if need be. We are not leaving anyone out there!"

Continued->

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 5- Milliara

Master Post

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Arriving in Milliara, the hermits are excited to finally share what they found with the Magistrate of Lairyon. Things....don't exactly go the way they plan, however. Meanwhile, on the hermit island of Eremita, an old friend returns.

___________________________________

The walls of the capitol stretch across the swampy marshes of mid-Lairyon, the only firm and permanent ground being the roads and city streets. During the winter months, when the marshes flood with snowmelt from the mountains both north and south, the walls protect the city from the rising waters as well as attacks from monsters and other enemies. 

Entering through the massive Kindness Gates of the northeast wall, Scar can’t help but feel like the gates don’t reflect their names. The sharp iron teeth of the portcullis bear down over them as they walk through, just one pull of a chain and the bars would clamp down and bite him in half. He glances to the side, noting the sharp halberds each soldier stands at attention with as well- faces devoid of any emotion. It takes Scar a second to realize they aren’t real people- they’re all the multiplication of one man. Very real, but magical all the same. Clones, with the real man as the captain. 

Scar scurries back to the group of hermits, looking around at the massive, sprawling city. A shadow casts over them, the pillar representing one of the eight core values set by the king. Kindness, casting it’s long shadow over the bright pennants and green canals of the streets. Wooden buildings stand on stilts, resting on the steppes and tiers of the city. From beside and beneath the houses, waterfalls pour over mossy and verdant lips of ground, water traveling through the city like blood through veins. Little boats carry messages, their fabric sails filled magically. They bob down the canals, bumping across lilypads and the flowers that live on circular islands, tipping over waterfalls but never losing it’s precious mail. 

And already, the hermits can see the center of the city, the heart of Lairyon. Three large buildings, white as aged cypress trees, and just as old. The castle, with gleaming towers that stretch out like branches, home of King Sor. 

In the center, a stout building with twin water wheels, spinning in their eternal race to nowhere. Moving water across all of Milliara, like a heart pumping blood. Water is the lifeblood of Lairyon, the island nation. The structure is a feat only completed through the help of all the cities. Metal from Dwarveil, flown in with cooperation from Foresta and Edenswell- their magic and animals. The mill, built by the brightest engineers from Darlon, and the water moved with the aid of Rivera and Watercrest’s magical affinity. 

And to the right, the newest building. The capitol house, home of the magistrate and Council of Guilds. It’s they who make the laws, with the magistrate as the elected head of the people. Vaulting windows that spiral up the shortest building of the three, and the flag of Lairyon at every corner and trellis. That’s where the hermits are going. The capitol building, to meet with Magistrate Dolios. Some call him the People’s King- elected by the populace, but in power almost as long as the young king has been. The people just keep electing him every new season. 

Doc rubs his shoulders, glancing out the corner of his eyes as they walk over a bridge, white twisted roots and pennants bearing Lairyon’s colors inviting the hermits into the city center. “Doesn’t this feel wrong, you guys?” 

“What do you mean?” Jevin tilts his head, slime squishing and a lock of his blue semi-liquid hair falling into a cowlick. 

“I mean...we should be more careful, man. We’re an illegal guild walking into the center of the law. Most of us have been on the wrong side of this man and his rules about guilds for years.” Doc tugs on the sleeves of his robes, the tattered ends sticking out like a sore thumb around high society. 

“You’re just being paranoid, dude.” Ren snickers. “Not all of us are hardened criminals that have done time in prison. Just you, Doc.” 

“Besides, the magistrate said if we investigated that mega problem in Gildara, we’d become a legal guild. Well, now here we are to claim our reward!” Iskall adds. 

“Why now, is all I’m asking.” Doc picks up his pace, falling in step with Xisuma. “How many times have we been rejected to be a new guild? I mean, we tried to follow Dolios’s law and get a license, but we were always rejected for no freaking reason! It’s not a fair law, but now all of sudden he wants to give us what we were denied? And why not ask any other guild?” 

Xisuma tightens his lip, though no one but him knows. His mask is on, protecting him from the sunlight. “We can’t go into this assuming anything. We did what the magistrate has asked, despite the clear violation we are in with his own laws.” 

“Just...remember that.” Doc slinks back, falling into step with BDubs and Zedaph. Both of which would rather not be in the busy city center. Guilds have been restricted by law, one of Magistrate Dolios’s early orders passed. A licensed guild is moderated, inspected. Safer than an unlicensed guild. At least, according to the capitol, they are. 

But unlicensed guilds have their reasons for existing. It’s expensive to run a legal guild, so missions often come with high expenses. The Hermit guild picks up work legal guilds would refuse, helping poor towns who can’t afford such high commission fees. To many of the hermits, the laws of guilds are too strict. They don’t allow for creativity, for individuality. To belong to a guild has become a status symbol few poorer or uneducated mages can attain. The knowledge stays within the guilds, and especially the Council of Guilds has become a country club of sorts. The new nobility. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve stood here.” Stress whispers, looking up the steps of the capitol building. 

“Right there with ya, mate.” Mumbo runs his bottom lip over the hairs of his mustache, looking around. Hoping no one notices him. Stress ran away from the high life. Mumbo was abandoned by it. The guild walks up the steps, an odd crew seen at the crown of the kingdom. A mix of criminals and nobles, mischief makers and rule followers, quiet souls and crowd pleasers. And their magic is just as varied. Guild members and other government officials stare as they enter into the grand hall of the capitol, clean pressed robes a harsh contrast to the battle worn and road weary hermits. Grian still has hay sticking out of his hair. 

The staircase, with velvety red carpet and marble steps, is blocked by giant magical swords. Guards wield the blades, keeping what they can only imagine to be riffraff out of the offices. “State your business, wizard.” 

“We are here to meet with Magistrate Dolios.” Xisuma states, lifting his chin proudly. The guards don’t move, only glancing at one another. X rolls back on his heels, the awkward silence prolonging until he’s popping his lips just to fill the void. He typically likes that stuff too. “I expect he knows we’re coming, right?” 

“Why would the magistrate, the leader of Lairyon, want to see a bunch of mongrels off the streets?” One guard hisses, nose wrinkling. “You all reek of backwater, why don’t you return to your-” The second guard is cut off as his sword pulls away from blocking the stairs to point at the hermits.

“What do you think you’re doing to my esteemed guests?” A clear, calm voice cuts through the air. A voice that demands the attention of every single person in the hall, including every hermit. The guards turn, looking up the stairs. And standing at the top, hand resting on the stone railing, is Magistrate Dolios. 

Curly brown hair, the color of fertile soil fresh from a morning rainfall, sweeps down into a tame ponytail, framing a tanned face and charismatic blue-hazel eyes. A soft smile creases between the magistrate’s beard. Purple and red robes flow down the stairs, a golden tassled belt denoting the man as the magistrate of the Council. “You put those barbaric weapons away, and let these good people of Lairyon up the steps.” Dolios looks to Xisuma, nodding his head and placing a hand over his heart. “I have been anxiously awaiting your return.”

The guards don’t hesitate to follow the magistrate’s orders, sheathing the weapons and letting the hermits pass by. Most follow Magistrate Dolios up the stairs, though Doc can’t help but give the arcane guard some trouble on his way past. For once, they can’t do anything to arrest him. The hermits follow the magistrate up into the offices, walking along the velvet carpet with awe. Most have never seen such riches in their life. Dolios’s words are just din. “I’m so glad you arrived completely unharmed. But may I ask...where is your guildmaster?” 

“TFC? He went back to our compound to research a specimen he found in Gildara. He didn’t want to waste a minute, so he left alone.” X responds, stepping through the door that Dolios opens. 

They’re in his office. It’s large, but the space feels tight. It’s full of artifacts and trophies, both manmade and organic. Zedaph immediately shrinks in, the head of a bakunawa mounted on the wall beside him. Impulse and Tango look around as well, all three members of team ZIT unnerved by the office. Something doesn’t feel right. But Dolios is perfectly at home, sauntering behind his desk and sitting down. His eyes run across the hermits before him, picking up a white feather from his desk as his eyes pass over Grian. “So, tell me. What did you find in the town of Gildara?” 

Joe steps up, repositioning his glasses on the bridge of his nose and clearing his throat. “When we reached about five kilometers from the town of Gildara, we became aware of the earth turning grey, like ash. But not just the top layer- the entire ground was devoid of life. Crops that grew died, and wooden poles were beginning to rot. When we reached the town, it was completely uninhabited. We soon discovered a crystal deep within the well of the town, which was unaffected by any magic we threw at it.” 

Dolios nods his head slowly. “So how did you take care of the problem?” 

“We...We didn’t. Two people- who we can only describe as being simple husks, devoid of thought, life, or energy beyond basic magic- appeared, attacking us. The crystal then lashed out, and we were only able to make it retreat before falling back ourselves.” Joe bites his lip. 

“You asked us to investigate the disturbance, Magistrate Dolios.” Xisuma steps up, brushing out the top of his outfit. “We took care of the crystal, sending it into dormancy. But the people of Gildara are gone. I think this requires more researching before we can truly do something to break that crystal. Based on my albeit limited knowledge- they don’t really cover this kind of magic at the academy- I do believe this crystal was corrupted by dark magic.” 

The office is silent, Dolios staring at the hermits. Finally, he sighs. “That is rather...disturbing news. Do you have any idea who could be behind this?” All of the hermits shake their heads in unison, thought team ZIT becomes distracted by something fluttering on the wall. “Unfortunate. Well, your work is valuable to my cause. I have learned a great deal from this.” 

Dolios stands, hand waving. The door behind the hermits opens, allowing the harsh light of the hall into the dark office. False raises an eyebrow. “So...does that mean we’re a guild now? A legal guild?” 

Mumbo steps back as he sees a dangerous glint enter Dolios’s gaze, though his lips never turn away from the charismatic smile he wears like jewelry. He closes his eyes, hand raising to cover his mouth. But it does nothing to hide the laughter, growing as his shoulders bounce and he leans back in his chair. It’s a low laugh, reverberating from the chest like a growl. “You really believed I would give you the honorable title of a licensed guild...just for that?” 

Doc rips forward, hand waving across and nearly knocking half a dozen knicknacks from the Magistrate’s desk. A few papers lift up, but the magistrate places a hand over them without even looking away from the puppeteer. “We did what you contracted us to do! You said we’d be a legal guild!” 

“You mean this contract?” Dolios’s fingers dance across a parchment paper, bearing the signature of the Order of Hermits’ guildmaster. TFC’s crawling, stout signature. He lifts it up, showing it to all the hermits with brazen eyes. A devious curl appears at the corner of his soft smile, and he snaps his fingers.

The contract goes up in flames. Ash sweeps past the hermits, carrying all their hopes and dreams along with it. “Why would this nation need a pack of roaches like you? I will let this unlawful congregation of...miscreants pass through Milliara for now. But you all are in direct violation of my laws, and must disband at once. You are dismissed.” 

“That’s not fair!” Grian shouts, scrabbling up Mumbo to get a better view- a better place to yell from. “You contracted us to investigate Gildara, you contacted us yourself! You-” 

“You need to learn to stop squawking your mouth, little bird.” Dolios cuts him off, twirling the feather in his hand. Zedaph notices red stains on the pure white barbs. “I recommend you all leave my office now, before your privilege as esteemed guests becomes the misfortune as unlawful intruders to the leader of Lairyon’s own office. I will repeat myself only once more. You are dismissed.” 

Doc is the first one out. Storming through the guild, muttering “I told you so” under his breath. Zedaph races out next, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Tango and Impulse are close behind their friend. Once every last hermit is out, the door slams closed, and the same guards that met them at the bottom of the stairs have arrived to escort them out. 

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

“TFC? Where is everyone?” TFC looks up, pulling the magnifying piece from his eye and setting down the black crystal. Before him, a knight in shining armor has appeared, or at least the closest version the hermits can find. 

“Ahh, Wels. What took you so long?” TFC grumbles, returning to his inspection of the crystal. The short tone sets Wels aback, brows furrowing. Their guildmaster is typically overjoyed to have a hermit return from a mission. Hugging, checking them over for wounds, and asking about the job done. 

“You know Alphasgard. Just a bunch of sticks in the asses.” Wels shrugs, feeling his shoulder ache where the bone and skin is still healing. Those rogues thought they could torture him for information, but they just made him mad. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Got some pretty sick scars to show off when the others return. Where are they?” 

But TFC isn’t listening, back to prodding the crystal with a metal needle. Scraping at the lustrous surface. Wels steps away, setting his shield down at False’s forge before returning to his home. He glances back at TFC’s crystalline cave. Something isn’t right. TFC would be hounding Wels to take a look at his scars. He always berates the younger members for being so reckless, but then pats them on the back- quite rough- and congratulates them on another great tavern tale earned. But TFC is alone, on the empty island. How long has he been the only one here? Just him and that strange crystal? 

And what happened to the other Hermits?

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space..... Pets?

I am really sorry guys. This was a new idea and style that turned out to be kind of complicated, so it will be longer than usual. As someone who typically writes novels, this short story stuff is really demanding since it requires you to be entertaining and concise without description which is my favorite. So, Hope you like it. 

“Tell us your oddest story, Captain.”

“Weirdest story, huh?” Captain Vir sets his glass down on the bar and tilts his head back thinking as he stares at the ceiling, “Well, you know what, since it’s been declassified, I suppose I can go ahead and tell you.” He picks up his drink again and takes a draw.

“Have you ever heard of Heaven’s Gate Nebula?”…”Of course you have. Well, so it’s this really weird cluster of stars just off Andromeda, not technically part of the galaxy but sort of orbiting it. Now you Know Nebulas are actually star nurseries, so generally stars within nebula tend to be really young….. the problem here is that emissions form Heaven’s Gate indicated 100-200 main sequence stars. I know, not a whole lot for a cluster. The GA had tried to investigate before, but with no real luck, they thought maybe a human crew would have more luck. And as a newly promoted captain with a newly christened ship, I was ready for any job they wanted to throw at me. So, with my new crew, and my new ship, I headed in, this was all before I met Sunny and Krill, and before I lost my eye.”

He finishes the glass and wipes his mouth on his sleeve, “We took it into the dust cloud, and I had to take manual control of the ship. I was nervous, I fly jets, and jets are relatively small, but I had to remember that I was about a thousand feet wider than I am used to. We were navigating mostly by short range radar, so I would only have a few seconds to make it through. Luckily there was no real debris in our way, and when we broke out of the cloud a few hours later, we enter this ….. Open area about solar system wide. Scans showed it had one main sequence star and four planets with a collective 12 moons. There was one planet in the goldilocks zone, so we took her in. I ordered our navigations expert to plot a landing course onto the planet for a shuttle, and then I went down and got together a team of Marines to take our first look. Ok, maybe I was being an idiot, I’m the captain, leading search parties isn’t exactly my job, but I would be damned if I was going to miss exploring an entirely undiscovered planet.”

***

“Alright, Jar Heads, suit up, we’re approaching the LZ.” Behind him the sound of helmets clipping into place over suits was comforting. Captain Vir pulled on his own helmet quickly locking it into pace with one hand as he maneuvered the shuttle towards the planet’s surface. It was green, Like Earth, very green though it wasn’t really due to trees. The ground itself was covered with a very thin layer of moss…. Or so it appeared. The foliage itself was rather sparse, with an odd assortment of trees, and some sort of ferns.

He chose an area next to one of these little clusters, lading their craft with a soft whirr of air. He cut the engines and grabbed his weapon.

The marines were waiting for him ready for exit weapons at the ready, “Alright, Chairfroce, your orders?” The sergeant asked with a good natured nod.

“I defer to you, jarhead. This is simple recon, stay quiet, and keep low. If you see anything, do not engage, we aren’t here to start trouble.” The men nodded, at the front one held up a hand counting down from five before pressing the button to drop the ramp, and in a coordinated unit, the group rushed from the craft and into a wide circle around the ship leaving the copilot to watch over the ship. Captain Vir stopped behind the point man lowering his weapon and checking the readings from his suit. He had been trained to determine the safety of a particular atmosphere. It was a chill 22 degrees F but the oxygen level was 14.8% oxygen content which would equal out to feel like a relatively high altitude. The rest was nitrogen like you would expect on Earth. With one hand, he slapped the point man on the shoulder who, in turn, gave a hand signal to the rest of the group. One of their designated men reached up, and pressed the release sequence on his helmet. It dropped into his hand with a hiss and he took a deep breath. The group watched as he took a few more deep breaths monitoring his blood oxygen content from the monitor on his suit before giving a nod to the captain, who gave another signal. The rest of the group removed their helmets, though a few kept face masks close at hand, not comfortable completely with the low oxygen content. Helmets were strapped to their waists.

Captain Vir ordered them into a loose arrowhead formation at a good 20 feet apart. He fell in at the very far left of the formation towards the thickest area of foliage weapon pressed into his shoulder lowered into a ready position as they began moving slowly through the foliage. He the advanced eye piece over his left eye to keep track of the crew as their red dots moved through the foliage. He couldn’t always see the next man over and up, but he could see the dots.

He was coming up on a very thickly wooded area now, and cut into the trees doing his best to keep up with the marines who moved low and fast through the trees. They were near silent, and he did his best to emulate them as he did so. Yeah, he was trained in combat, but the last war he was in took place strictly on stone, moss and ash, branches hadn’t really been a problem.

He took another step forward into the foliage trying to find a grounded place to put his foot… but then…. There was nothing there. He had one moment of horrible realization before his stomach dropped out from underneath him, and he went plunging downwards.

He hit the rock with a hard crack maybe five feet below, and then bounced over to go tumbling like a pinball down the hill. He might have heard the cry of one of the marines over the com before it was dashed to pieces against a rock. In an attempt to keep his head covered, he turtled into the collar of the space suit, allowing it to take most of the impact as he rolled into another rock and was sent flying down a mossy incline. His weapon was ripped from his hands, and the sling snapped catching him on the cheek as it went.

Now loosed from its grip, his arms flailed and clawed at the ground as he fell. Body crying out in anguish against the pain of his fall. The end of the hill came, and he was pitched over another, small, five foot drop. Landing flat on his back… The pain was incredible, not as bad as losing his leg, but still. He looked down through his bleary vision…. Shit…. His leg, the entire F***ing thing was gone…..

A shadow passed over him from above, and in groggy delirium he looked up squinting against the silhouette, massive, hairy, and reaching out towards him.

He blacked out.

***

He woke up to the chatter of unknown creatures, lying on his back on a bed of soft moss staring up at a leafy ceiling above. Squinting past his own delirium and the bright light in his face he tried to make sense of the scene forcing himself to sit up past the pain in his body and the weight of his suit. The striations in the leafy ceiling resolved themselves as he stared on….. realizing in horror that he was looking at bars. He pushed himself upwards the rest of the way limping/hopping over to the bars where he stopped staring out at the world around him. Stacks and stacks of cages, full of strange alien creatures with fur and feathers, and spines chattering and gambling about their cages hissing and yapping at each other.

He rushed around the cage tugging at the bars, trying to find a locking mechanism, but seeing nothing. He tried to force himself through the bars cursing when his chest was too wide to make it through, even sideways. He tugged even harder and came down hard to the ground without the support of his prosthetic. Missing a leg, there was only so much he could do. The boot of his suit and half of the lower leg had been ripped off leaving him with a useless and dangling bit of fabric. He cursed the stupid thing silently. His REAL leg wouldn’t have just fallen off like that. Sure his remaining leg hurt like a bitch, but at least it was still working.

Piece of garbage.

He glanced around a little more taking a deep breath. First thing was first, he had to find out where he was. He didn’t get much time to figure this out before the air itself was rocked and shattered by an immense vibration. It was a sound like someone had turned the base all the way up on their car speakers. The bars of his cage rattled, his insides rattled, his teeth rattled. Whatever made that sound had to be f***ing massive.

And that’s when the absolutely immense creatures stepped into the room. It was at least 40 feet tall and looked like a cross between Sasquatch, a bear, and King Kong. With a gasp he scrambled back in his cage, as two of the other creatures stepped into the room with it. One of them was about as tall if not taller, and the other was maybe 30 feet tall give or take. As their mouths open, the entire room rumbled with the deep base of their voices. He fell to one knee hands to his chest as if he was trying to hold in his bones.

He couldn’t have known that the creatures were quite sentient naming themselves the Magnites of the Magnapedibus, and they were here for one very specific reason. The taller, and older of the two guests browed their way around the room glancing in cages and speaking to each other in their impossibly deep voices. A couple of times, they opened one of the cages and took out one of the other creatures. Vir watched from the confines of his cell with a sense of growing horror.

This could not be happening, and to make it all worse, his coms were down, and those things were getting closer to him their feet thudding like thunderclaps on the floor below. Quickly, he burrowed himself under a layer of the moss staring out form a minute hole at the scene unfolding before them. He could see that the cages lifted from the top, but there was no way he was going to manage to make it out if that was the case: no way in hell he was going to be able to lift that thing.

The creatures had moved onto the cage right next to his looking over a creature that had some odd recumbence to a giant rat. The smaller creature didn’t seem particularly interested in it. Little did the captain know was that the creature had daned the rat to be not cute enough for its taste. They were arguing among themselves about what the third creature was looking for. What could possibly pique interest when they had gone over the entire place, and yet there was nothing to be seen?

The shop owner gave them one last option, something strange he had picked up out in the woods today, but something he didn’t think was likely to survive. It would require special care, and he had yet to look it over for injury. They moved over to the next cage, just to find nothing visible in site. The larger creature gave a look of confusion to the owner who waved him off. The creature was scared, probably hiding. He threw open the cage lid and reached in prodding around in the moss.

Captain Vir lay as still as he possibly could feeling the ground rumble beneath him eyes closed teeth gritted. And then a massive weight pressed down on his back.  Like someone was standing on him, making it hard to breathe. The weight lifted off him and light poured into his little hiding spot. The ground trembled with another mass vibrating noise

Shit! He rolled to the side just as a massive hand came down towards him. He barely escaped crawling up to one knee and scuttling to the side as the hand came after him again. A line of expletives ran through his head as he rolled dodged ad ducked out of the way hindered by his missing leg forced to scramble on three limbs as he tried to get away.

He wasn’t fast enough, the cage wasn’t big enough, and he was caught around the waist by a massive hand. He gasped for air, as the hand grew tight around his middle against his struggling and squirming. He panted pressing his hands against the clenched fist trying to pull himself out, but it was no use.

The massive creatures looked down at him with surprise and confusion. What was this thing? The owner wasn’t totally sure, but he had found it lying injured in the forest. He thought it was supposed to have four limbs, and if that was the case than it was missing one of them. The smaller creature thought that it was horribly sad…. The creature in itself looked terrified squirming and wriggling as it was, and with only one leg it must have been in immense pain. It had very large eyes, a brilliant green color and a small tuft of hair atop its head, kind of adorable, otherwise it was furless…. It must have been very cold. It held out its hands begging to hold the creature, and finally they gave in.

Vir was transferred from one hand to the other, a grip that was lighter this time, the smaller creature. He tried to squirm away again, but then became very aware of the twenty to twenty five foot drop….. he didn’t think he was likely to make that unscathed. Another massive hand was lifted up, and he cringed away as a single huge finger rubbed against the back of his head and down his upper back. Damn, it was like being stroked by a ten pound dumbbell….. it was rubbery and the palm was cracked like the pad of a dog’s foot.

The creature thought it was very cute, whatever it was, and it didn’t seem too dangerous, just an adorable, crippled little creature.

He swore that if they did that again he was going to have to beat someone’s ass, he didn’t care how tall they were…. That was just as soon as he figured out how to get away from this nonsense. That didn’t seem likely to happen as the large creature took him back, and began looking him over pinching his limbs between its massive fingers flipping him into his back like you would to examine a lab rat. He kicked out with his remaining foot as the creature tried to get a good look at his severed leg. He’d be damned if he was going to ACTUALLY get probed by aliens. At least the last ones had asked nicely.

There was more roaring, more rumbling as they tried to figure out what exactly the thing was, despite missing a limb, it didn’t appear to be in pain, but it was a feisty little creature. If they were to sell it, it would need special care, somewhere warm, a special diet, but perhaps it would make a good pet.

***

Vir was about 0% pleased with the outcome of this. His first mission and things had already gone to hell in a handbasket, or in this case what felt like a massive ass paper bag. He had been dumped into one with a handful of the strange moss, and breathing holes poked in the side. Outside he could hear more grumbling and could feel the ground underneath thudding with the footsteps of the giant creatures. He couldn’t stand with only one leg, and lay in the bottom, face pressed against the moss as they moved in short starts and stops. Eventually the rumbling died off a bit, and the movement continued bouncing him up and down inside the bag which swung back and forth.

***

Is this what it was like to be a hamster? Whatever it was like he was done.  The creature had barely let him go since it had brought him back to its den. It let him go in its lap, and he’d try to scramble away only to be pulled back. If he was let down on the floor, he would have tried to run, but he was missing something kind of important. There were tons of these things being invited over to hold, pet stoke, and play with him, and he hated every moment of it. He tried to bite at least once, but that turned out to b not worth it at all, the things tasted like ass, and their skin was too thick to bite through. And then it insisted on wrapping him up in randomly soft items like it thought he was cold, like he wasn’t wearing a thermal conserving space suit. This was just a load of bullshit.

Giving some time alone, he was sure he could construct a decent pair of crutches, but that wasn’t going to happen if the creature kept insisting on holding him.

He had one other option…. He could play dead, at this current moment, which seemed to be his best option, so the moment that someone stopped paying attention, he fell limp eyes half closed just willing them to fall for it. When they came back, he watched their shadows moving around, could hear the thrumming and thudding of their voices. They picked him up, and he let his body flop to the side, he did his best to breathe as little as possible, hoping they wouldn’t notice when he did. The roaring grew more urgent, he was moved around constantly laid down prodded, poked, and he refused to move, did his best to keep still as they picked him up. There were many of the creatures there now speaking rapidly, one of them sounded very upset.

He just had to stay still.

And that’s when he heard the roar of the shuttle. The creatures apparently did too, and he watched as the ship roared in through an opening over the heads of the creatures before circling down. The creatures made some more roaring sounds. He could hear voices as the carrier landed. Wind whipped at his clothes, there was more roaring.

“CAPTAIN!”

He opened his eyes just in time, as one of the marines grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him over his shoulders racing back towards the carrier as the others covered him from behind. He was thrown to the deck inside the carrier as the ship lurched form the ground and roared forward.

The roaring grew louder, the ship tilted and swung. The marines held on for dear life as one had him pinned to the ground keeping him still as the ship rocked and rolled.

And then they shot forward and the roaring died away. Captain Vir let his head rest back on the floor breathing heavily.

“Are you alright, Captain?” The marine asked looking him over for injuries.

“Relieved to see you Marine….. relieved to see you.”

[atamascolily]

Lily reads Star Wars: Red Harvest (part three)

Previously: Sith happens and orchids are snarky, to the point where @threadsketchier dubbed this one “Miette”:

Orchid: “you make me cold??!?1!  oh, JAIL FOR MOTHER!  JAIL FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS”  

Unfortunately, the orchid and its Jedi keeper have been kidnapped by a bounty hunter and are en route to Sith Hogwarts... so of course we cut to Geonosis to meet the Hard-Boiled Jedi Detective who’s going to track her down.

...who also happens to be her brother???

Geonosis: once a hellhole, always a hellhole. We learn that Coruscant got sacked by the Sith a while back, but that’s pretty much it in terms of backstory or context for people like me, who are fuzzy on what’s supposed to be happening in this part of the timeline. Oh, well.

Anyway, there's a belligerent Jedi named Rojo Trace, who is based on Liam Neeson's character in Taken, right up and including parroting some of his dialogue. I'm just gonna call him not!Qui-Gon, because he's basically Qui-Gon but with even more issues, and... a biological sister who is also a Jedi?? How does that even work??!! Suffice to say it will not be explained, because explanations are for losers.

Not!Qui-Gon is grumpy and a loner and Not a People Person, which is HILARIOUS given how the Jedi are supposed to be diplomats and peacemakers.

She stepped toward him, casually brushing his arm with her own. “I have to confess, I’ve always admired the Jedi Order, but I’ve never had the opportunity to get to know a Jedi Knight personally.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen today,” Trace said.

She frowned a little. “But—”

Before she could continue, Trace moved past her, turned, and jumped straight into the crater.

Yup, definitely Qui-Gon in literally everything but name.

Also, he's a psychometrist by profession:

Trace exhaled, reminded now of other terms he’d heard used to describe the Republic’s role in crash sites like this. The officers might call them investigators, but the enlisted men on the ground had other names. Names like corpse counters and dirt tourists.

The nicknames meant little to him. That was the job; everything else was a distraction, including female officers who wanted to get to know him personally. He was aware of his reputation for being cold and impersonal: it didn’t bother him in the least.

LOL, attachments are for other people. Not THIS Jedi. The only thing that’s missing from the usual hard-boiled detective stereotype is the drinking problems! The only person he cares about is his sister Zo, and he has a vision of her screaming as she's kidnapped, so he's going to track her down and rescue her! Because he's a tracker named Trace! (LOL, I see what you did there.)

What’s his relationship with Zo? Why does he care about here so much? How did they both end up as Jedi? Why did she go to the AgriCorps and why did he take this particular job? What was their training like? How often do they talk? What are Rojo and Zo’s relationships with the rest of the Jedi like? I have so so so so so many questions, none of which will ever be answered in the text.

This character has the potential to be really interesting, but the author provides me with zero personal details to explain why Rojo Trace is the way he is, and how he got to this point, so instead it’s like every action movie Liam Neeson ever made. Strip away the Determinator tropes and there’s not much left. 

Meanwhile, Zo comes to in the Whiphid bounty hunter's trophy room, which is full of decaying skeletons and skins and super gross, along with space!dermestid beetles gnawing on the flesh of recent kills. I'm reminded of the Imperial governor in the Truce of Bakura whose desk is one giant tooth and wants Leia's for his private dental collection. And, of course, the orchid macguffin.

The initial process of communication was never easy. At first it had felt almost unnatural. Yet with practice, through countless mornings spent sitting alone with the orchid, she’d soon reached a level of mastery that eased the transitory awkwardness into a smoother and more organic leap.

Are you there?

Within its glass vessel, the plant finally twitched, brightening slightly in recognition of her presence. Zo watched its dust-colored stem inclining toward her like a beckoning finger. At the same time she felt its life essence stirring within her, filling an almost physical void directly behind her breastbone and between her lungs, a place she thought of almost colloquially as her soul. At the same time she heard the first coarse whispers of its voice, gender-neutral, incoherent at first and then becoming clearer, like a foreigner adapting to the nuances of an entirely new language.

Zo? What happened? Are we well?

Zo gave a rueful smile, felt the lump on the back of her head. I wouldn’t exactly say that.

The orchid shares what details it can about their captor:

Solitary, a bloodthirsty species, and aggressive.

Zo waited, processing the comment. The orchid had a gift for understatement, and she couldn’t help but wonder about the criteria for this assessment.

And a flower collector to boot, she told it.

If the orchid had an opinion on this, it didn’t voice it.

The orchid stayed silent. Staring at it, Zo began to realize how her fully wakened presence had already affected the trophy room’s biosphere. The naturally occurring moss on the ship’s ceiling had started spreading at a noticeably accelerated pace, sprawling to swallow up the exposed bolts and seams in the interior walls. There was some kind of switch plate just above her head with a sign written in another language—the Whiphid’s mother tongue, she assumed—but it was already so moss-covered that she couldn’t make out the letters. Scraps of green rot within the skulls had begun extending their first initial tendrils up as well, reaching outward through eye sockets and trepanned holes. Simply by being here, she’d jump-started the growth of the Mirocaw’s incidental flora.

This is so cool, and I wish we'd see more of this, but sadly, we have to go to Sith Hogwarts, which is traumatizing for everyone, but especially the orchid, who is, as we established, A Delicate Flower.

In her arms, tucked against her, the orchid had started to make the same repetitive clicking sound over and over again, as if it were stuck on a thought, a compulsive stammering noise that she didn’t like at all.

Meanwhile, not!Qui-Gon arrives at the scene of the crime and sets to work:

The silver-haired agricultural-lab attendant stood with his hand extended. Trace paused just long enough to give it a perfunctory squeeze, his eyes already scanning the area, taking in everything at once as they walked across the landing bay. The ship he’d commandeered was a generic midsized star skiff, big enough for a crew of eight, small enough to escape scrutiny, retrofitted with ion engines and a Class One hyperdrive for long-range travel. He traveled alone.

OF COURSE HE DOES.*cue “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day*

So here's the explanation of the (lame) reason why Zo can't be separated from the orchid macguffin:

Emmert nodded. “The Murakami orchid is renowned for its Force abilities. It possesses power, but it requires a keeper, someone with an equally high midi-chlorian count, to keep it fully alive.”

How the fuck did this plant evolve? Did someone breed it to be like this? They had to have bred it for this, there's no way this could happen in nature. Why did they do that? Because it was cool? Because they could? Because it’s useful for something besides nefarious Sith alchemy? If it was bred by the Sith, that would explain a lot, but why would the Jedi being growing it if it were a creation of evil? Is the orchid going to become evil? (Please don’t let the orchid be evil!) WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE??

And how far away can its keeper get from it before it dies (or turns into a zombie, given the “fully alive” remark)? Can it switch keepers? What do midi-chlorians have to do with anything? How does that... even... work...?

Never mind, because not!Qui-Gon is also space!Sherlock:

“What’s that?” Trace pointed at the screen, at a series of pale bluish green discolorations along the [photo of the] Mirocaw’s portside. The marks had an oddly phosphorescent glossiness, almost as if that portion of the ship’s outer plating had been streaked with a layer of iridescent oil.

“Carbon scoring?”

“No.” The Jedi Knight shook his head. “That’s Thulian vapor residue—it’s a galactic anomaly, a mixture of post-industrial airborne pollution and crystal fog. You only find it in about three places outside the Mid Rim.”

Emmert gave him a blank look.

“Have my ship ready,” Trace said. “I’m leaving in five minutes.”

At least he's efficient, I'll give him that.

[vegetacide]

Cloak and Dagger

Veg●notable: Okay, I had a little fun with this and took a few liberties with one of the boys… It worked for I wanted but I am not sure how it will be received... ::ducks behind a Tracy so she doesn’t get hit with anything...::

Also I am kinda being a pantser with this chapter.. I have a general idea of where I want it to go but I didn’t suss it out like I have in other chapters so please excuse if the pacing if off. I kinda let the Boys tell me where they wanted to go and what sort of interactions they wanted to have….and they may have gone a bit off course..

As per the norm.. All errors and such are my own.

Read, review, like, reblog.. Whatever the platform, it is very, very much appreciated and it all acts as my motivational fuel.

Previous Chapters

Intro  | One  |  Two 

Chapter 3: Games 

Enjoy!

o0o

Scott drummed his fingers along the careworn surface of his father’s desk, his gaze lost to the middle distance as he thought over the information that had just been brought to him. Not that there was much, which was the problem in and of itself.

Kayo and Lady Penelope had had very little to tell him. After Fuse’s botched attempt at the old, disused power plant to obtain nuclear material he’d just up and disappeared. Their security expert and London agent had been traipsing around the globe trying to track down leads for weeks now but there was no sign of the Chaos member, his sister or for that matter the Hood… anywhere..at all.

For the Hood on his own, it wasn’t that unusual. The criminal would go quiet for a spell and not resurface for months. Now that he was with the Crew, that was an entirely different story.

Normal some tidbit of information would crop up of a sighting in some far corner of the world, or a rumour of some heist or another would drift about on the dark web. Either Lady P would poke at it to figure out if it was worth further effort or Kayo would get a call from the GDF to check with some contacts but everything had gone silent. There was nothing, no where.

Scott looked up at the muted holo-cast. A variation of the same headline scrolled along under the chrome anchors’ desk and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. This eerie feeling of foreboding had been dogging him since the plant and he just knew this wasn’t going to end well.

Picking up an old school stylus that for some reason his father had kept even with the advent of modern computer interfaces, Scott examined its length. His father had owned it for as long as he could remember. He’d once asked Jeff why he insisted on keeping it and his father had smiled in that way he did and had said that ‘somethings were just worth keeping.’ He hadn’t elaborated in any other way or given any other hint to his reasoning after that. It left Scott scratching his head in confusion.

Even now all these years later he still didn’t understand though as he looked at the smooth finish and felt the weight of it between his fingers, he could understand its appeal. It provided something tangible to hold on to, tactile.

In his case not only physically but it also provided him with a psychologically connection to the man they all missed so much. A man he truly wished was with them right now.

Maybe the great Jeff Tracy would be able to wrap his head around all this, come out with a master plan so at the end of the day the world was a better, safer place. Scott certainly didn’t think he had the chops to do it himself. Self doubt was a bitch especially when there was no supporting hand to guide you.

His father was going to come home, Scott knew that for sure. WIth Brains basically locked away working on the zero-x engine it was only a matter of time. Scott just hoped that when they got their father back…. Why was he even thinking about this? Setting the stylus back down, he rubbed at the back of his head in hopes of dispelling the direction of his thoughts. This was not helping.

Snagging his forgotten cup of coffee, he took a swig and grimaced. Cold and it was the good stuff from Virgil’s hidden stash behind the lima bean in the pantry. Eyeballing the drink with its thin layer of cream film on top, he sighed and tossed the rest back. It was too much effort to haul his ass downstairs for a fresh cup, besides his brother would kick his butt if he were to find out he knew of the existence of the rich, smoky ground beans and had wasted it. Better to just suck it up and deal with the cold brew then risk the engineer’s wrath.

“Thunderbird 5 to base.”

“Hey John,” Scott greeted with the raise of his now empty coffee mug. “What’s up?”

“Just letting you know Grandma is on approach. Will be there in t-minus 5”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

John nodded in return and they sat in silence for a moment. By the controlled look on John’s face Scott could tell that the monitor was working up to say something more. Leaning back in his chair, he cocked a foot over one knee and steepled his fingers as his brother processed whatever it was that was on his mind.

Scott didn’t want to push but time was ticking. “Johnny….?” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname would get the ball rolling.

John’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the moniker but the redhead let it slide. “How’s it going down there?”

Scott dropped his hands, pushed up to his feet and walked the short distance to the sunken seating area. “As well as can be expected.” Taking the steps down he parked on his usually couch with a heavy sigh. Sinking into the cushions with a slouch and tossing an arm up and over the back.

“That sounds...” John paused as he searched for the appropriate word, “to steal a phrase from Alan.. craptastic.”

One shoulder went up in a shrug and Scott dragged in a deep breathe. “Ya, well. Shitty situation but you know how these things go. Time and space and all that.”

“Time and space?” A smirk settled on John’s face. “This coming from you. Eos mark down the time and date. Scott is being reasonable”

“Time and date noted, John.” Came the young voice of the A.I. “I have also taken the liberty of recording this interaction for posterity in the likelihood that you want to revisit the momentous occasion.”

John chuckled as the light ring came into the view field of the camera. The array of little lights flashing in what Scott could only conclude as amusement at his cost. The A.I was learning and learning fast and Scott didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Hardy har.” A dry sound, accompanied by an eye roll. “Am I really that bad?”

The stare and awestruck look he received by way of answer should have been enough.”Aw, come on…”

“If smother hen was in the dictionary, Scott. You would be the picture beside it.” It was said rather frankly and that irked Scott into yet another eyeroll. “Matter of fact, it might actually already be in Urban Dictionary..”

“Okay. Okay..I get it. Enough already.” Scott’s boredom and disdain at the direction of the conversation wasn’t hard to miss. “I can’t help it. I worry about all of you.”

John took pity on his elder brother, the smile leaving his face. “I know you do, Scott. Especially when it’s Virgil.”

Scott sagged further into the couch.

“We all need to fall apart every now and again. The same applies to Virgil.” John spoke, his voice carrying across the distance. “As much as we rely on him to be the family rock, even a rock wears down over time when enough stress is applied.”

“Ya, I know. You’re right.” Scott leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he looked at the floor. “I just wish…” He didn’t finish his train of thought.

“Scott, he’ll be fine. Just give him the room to breath and in a day or two he will be right as rain again. He needs to stew this over a bit.” John shifted his gaze away from the cam, his projected hand skimming over something off screen.

“Well from what Brain’s has told me, Virgil has him doing system checks on all the wash-bays. Maybe an answer will be there for him.”

“You talked to Brain?”

“Yes, just before calling you. He wanted me to look at some computations. Double check his math and he didn’t want to bother Virgil with it” Floating about the space station some 22,000 kilomitres above them, John glaced backup a moment. “Why? Haven’t you talked to him?”

Scott sat up a bit straighter, sheepishly ashamed that the yelling the night before had sent the mousy genus into hiding in the bowels of the island. “Not since we got back..”

“Oh,” John failed to hide the nonplussed expression that flashed across the screen. “Glad I was off world last night than..:”

“Jay, you’re always off world”

John couldn’t say anything to counter that and Scott knew it. The star obsessed Tracy rarely made landfall and Scott tried to think back on how long it had been since the astronaut had been forced to submit to some down time.

“Scott, you’re getting that look in your eyes again.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I need to smother’ look that comes with the forehead wrinkles of the elderly.. Don’t you dare set your sights on me. I am needed up here with full access to all of 5’s systems and you know it.”

Scott put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to have another sibling forcibly shutting him out. “Message received and watched the old person jokes. They are laugh lines not stress.. The hair though, that’s all from you guys.”

John looked off camera again and his expression changed from brotherly bemusement to curious. “Aunt Val is reaching out. I’ll patch her though.”

Scott cursed under his breath and ignored the admonishing glare from space. Seemed he hadn’t sworn as quietly as he thought, good thing Gran….

“Scott Bartholomew Carpenter Tracy!”

Scott flinched at the sudden loud bark of reproach directed his way as his Grandmother marched into the room, fire and brimstone in her wake. “You were not raised in a barn, young man.” Crap, his diminutive elder was not impressed, especially if she broke out the little known and seldom used ‘Bartholomew.’

He was the only brother out of the five to be graced with the additionally middle name, gifted to him as the first born from his great, great Grandfather. A Tribute to a war vet that his father had been blessed with as well and one that made Scott shudder every time he heard it.

“Well technically… “John piped up earning him a warning glare from Scott.

“Gee John, thanks for the warning.. “ Scott grumbled with little enthusiasm and dripping with sarcastic annoyance.

“I did,” John blinked.

Scott contemplated several ways to seek revenge over the tirade of the fierce and feisty Sally Tracy and most of them involved airlocks and a module full of moldy bagels.

John did his level best to hide his smile at the misfortune of the eldest. “I told you she was on approach and you know she has the ears of a bat, Scooter.”

Scott glared at the space nut but all he got in return was a very large grin before the monitor disappeared and the 3D rendition of his Godmother materialized.

“Colonel Casey” Scott acknowledges, his Grandmother patted his knee in greeting and settled down on the couch beside him, the vexed look still sparking in her cerulean gaze.

“Valerie,” His Grandma piped up. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”

“Scott. Sally.” A crisp, formal acknowledgement. Definitely a business call.

The tone made Scott straighten his spine, posture ramrodding as his years of military training kicked in. Pushing to his feet, the Commander of International Rescue took up the forefront of his mind. The dilemma of the current Tracy drama brushed aside as the call to arms; so to speak, was issued by his honorary Aunt’s projected persona.

“What can I do for you, Colonel Casey?”

“Orders come down the pipe, Scott. General Abner informed me this afternoon that World Council has declared Kazakhstan a no fly zone. All personnel, both combative and civilian are on evac orders effective immediately. As of 23:00, anything in or outbound found crossing restrictive airspace will be termed hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“And as our liaison..?” Scott asked, bracing for the answer that he feared.

“I’ve been advised to inform you that the restriction extends to International Rescue as well. Under no circumstance is International; Rescue to enter that airspace. Any action will be seen as an act of aggression against the WC and those perpetrating said act are to be shot down.”

“Noted.”

“Scott, you need to abide by this ruling. This is from way up the food chain. There will be nothing I can do to help you if these orders are disregarded. “ Casey stressed. “You will be on your own.I’ve also been instructed that anyone aiding and abetting is to be brought in and prosecuted under the full force of the law.”

Meaning, the whole family would be under threat and the whole might of the GDF would be pointed in their direction. Even though they claimed no allegiance to any known entity, International Rescue and by turn the Tracy’s would be marked as traitors “I understand Colonel.”

Essentially the country has been walled off and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He just hoped that there would be no call out for iR in the vicinity of the damned country but he knew from experience hopes and wishes were very seldom taken into consideration.

-o-o-

Some 6,500km away, tucked under a remote mountain village on the furthest edge of Kazakhstan a display monitor beeped to life with the flow of garish, green text. Servos hummed, fans ticked on and a smile crept across the harshly angled face with amber eyes.

Piece by piece plans that had taken months to arrange were finally starting to come together. Money had passed hands, people had been bought, information exchanged and like pawns on a chessboard, the players were shifting into their places.

Looking at the board, the queen slipped into place and unbeknownst to all but one, the king now sat vulnerable. The end was in sight.

Let the games begin.

TBC

[idiopath-fic-smile]

Fic: The Curious Case of L’Ami

Fandom: Les Mis/Starship Iris crossover

Pairing: Enjolras/Grantaire

Summary: Some say L’Ami is a legend, a figment of a void-addled imagination, like that former gambling boat turned ghost ship, or the giant astral squids floating in The Deep.

Notes: Commission for Brynn. (Prompt: Enjolras, Grantaire, and any other amis that strike your fancy in the Starship Iris universe.)

Fic: 

Officially, Adrien Enjolras and his fellow conspirators are dead, killed in an accidental explosion during the failed student protests of 2180. No bodies were ever recovered from the site, but there are eyewitnesses, death certificates, security camera footage which places Enjolras and the others at the scene moments before the fatal detonation.

Unofficially, though--Mathieu Combeferre was always top of the class when it came to hacking video feeds, and it’s true that during his brief stint at the school’s drama department, Sebastien Courfeyrac demonstrated an almost disturbing flair for pyrotechnics.

Beyond that, well, people have a knack for seeing what they expect to see.

Enjolras hates being called a pirate, so naturally, Grantaire does it as much he can.

“What we do is not piracy,” Enjolras insists at dinner that evening. They’re down to only protein tablets again, but Bossuet insists on nightly crew meals anyway, citing some half-remembered psychology paper on the importance of group cohesion. “They were out for gold--”

“--and glory,” Bahorel cuts in.

“And other, non-gold forms of wealth,” Prouvaire offers from the corner, where he’s sharpening knives. “Jewels. Silver. Tobacco.”

“Really, this piracy thing is sounding better and better all the time,” Grantaire declares. “And we haven’t even gone into the clothes yet. Those long swoopy coats? Those hats? They don’t even make saboteur hats.”

“Not yet, they don’t,” says Joly, a needle and thread in his hands and a troubling gleam in his eyes.

Some say L’Ami is a legend, a figment of a void-addled imagination, like that former gambling boat turned ghost ship, or the giant astral squids floating in The Deep.

Others claim to have seen it firsthand. These people are, for the most part, lying.

Feuilly and Musichetta worked for many hours in Joly’s lab to create a series of light wave-neutralizing panels which, when applied to the outside of the ship, render it close to invisible in flight. Scanners are a little harder to fool, but it’s not impossible to scatter a signal, and anyway, Combeferre didn’t get his reputation for nothing.

When the Regime’s local radio fails, when a supply line breaks down, when a piece of unjammable IGR tech becomes hopelessly jammed, when satellites plummet from the sky like shooting stars, a low-level lackey will sometimes blame the crew of L’Ami. Sometimes, this person will be correct.

The thing is, sometimes they’re wrong. Sometimes, the resistance comes from much closer to home: orders not carried out, protocol ignored, a devastating weapon left to suffer a mysterious number of production setbacks. When a simple functionary of the Regime acts out of conscience, allows the gears of the machinery to grind close to breaking, even for a moment, L’Ami is there to take the blame. That’s half the reason it exists.

Grantaire calls it The Good Ship Plausible Deniability, but that’s just Grantaire.

Éponine has a job for them. This is not unusual; Éponine is the one with the most contacts on the ground. Scouring the ‘net is one thing, but she’s the one who picks up on the whispers, the thoughts nobody dares commit to keyboards or transcribers.

A prominent politician on New Jupiter has been working with the mafia since before Neuzo.

“The Estonians?” asks Bahorel; “The Sicilians?”

“More small-time than that,” Éponine tells him. “They call themselves the Jondrettes.”

Cosette turns from her pilot’s chair to frown at Éponine. The two share several seconds of complex eye contact, the kind with multiple layers of meaning, and then Cosette reaches up and squeezes Éponine’s shoulder, supportive.

“We go back a ways,” Éponine explains to the others. “But it’s fine. Won’t be an issue.”

“Are you sure,” says Enjolras.

Éponine smiles wolfishly. “I think Bossuet would say it’ll be good for my sense of closure.”

The mission is complicated. Wiretapping mob lines from the air is a no-go; criminals have the best encryption on the market. Planting a bug in-person means infiltrating either the Jondrettes’ headquarters, or the offices of a minor chancellor.

“Chancellor’ll have less security,” Bahorel points out. “Fewer armed guards--”

“But we’ll need a better cover story,” Éponine finishes. “High clearance. You know what that means.”

Enjolras does.

Grantaire shows up to the briefing wearing thick black eyeliner. “It’s my form of protest,” he explains. “I will rock this look until you at least give me a small plank to walk people off.”

Enjolras, who has consumed more piratical factoids than he’d really care to admit, says absently, “They didn’t even do that” before he’s thought better of it.

“Aha!” Grantaire shouts. “So by not allowing me a plank, you admit we’re pirates!”

“In other news,” Courfeyrac interjects brightly, “the briefing!”

To pull off this latest mission, the crew will need at least two sets of convincing ident cards, badges, and scannable contact lenses to create the illusion of a bodyguard and a mid-level aide. (Bahorel and Courfeyrac, respectively. Éponine is out due to the chance she could be recognized by one of Jondrette’s thugs. It remains to be seen if the Chancellor is brazen enough to invite known criminals directly to his office, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.)

“Simple,” says Grantaire. “Child’s play. A grievous waste of my talents. I could be counterfeiting money on a tropical planet, sipping absurdly conceptual cocktails on a hover-beach, and here I am instead--” “And why is that, exactly?” Enjolras fires back. Grantaire just shrugs one easy shoulder, eyes shockingly blue against all that black. It reminds Enjolras of the way Earth stands out in photos taken from space.

“Who’s got the attention span to stay put?” Grantaire replies. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters.” He reaches the door, spins, and adds with a grin, “mateys.”

The irritating thing about Grantaire--and there are many, but the chief one among Enjolras’s concerns--is that it is almost impossible to get a straight answer out of him.

Grantaire of a dozen years ago would never so casually take orders, would certainly never then turn around and perform the tasks required. Maybe he just prefers fucking shit up over trying to rally the people. But then again, the work Grantaire does--falsifying records, forging credentials, crafting careful replicas of retinas--is not just an act of creation but an act of incredible precision.

Everyone aboard L’Ami has made sacrifices. Everyone left behind people, places, the chance for anything resembling a steady life. They are all legally dead, after all. Most did it from a place of deep conviction, the same conviction that once drove them to pledge their lives to the cause back on Corinth.

Grantaire was not one of them then. The only change between those days and the day Grantaire chose to run with them was the total failure of the student uprisings.

Why this, why now? Certainly, Enjolras has other things to think about. They’ll need more rations soon, and both Cosette and Feuilly have been after him about some new engine part that should be able to up their speed by something like fifteen percent. Combeferre is only a year’s worth of work away from being able to implant a virus inside the Regime’s intra-government mail system. Courfeyrac’s disguises get more promising every day. And if nothing else, there’s an endless expanse of stars out the window, endless thoughts to have about the scope of the universe and the promise of a brighter dawn.

Most of the time, this is more than enough to keep his mind occupied.

Most of the time.

Enjolras is waiting by the comms when word comes that the plan’s gone south. Fifteen minutes after Courfeyrac successfully managed to slip into the Chancellor’s office and plant the bug inside of his desk, Bahorel was spotted and recognized by a freelance guard.

“How,” says Cosette, calm tone belying her white knuckles on the dashboard.

“Not sure.” Courfeyrac’s voice comes in a whisper; from the sounds of it, he’s ducked behind a corner. “I know he was on the amateur boxing circuit, back in the day--”

The name on Bahorel’s ident card won’t match up with the name he went by then. It’s a matter of time until the small talk branches off into questions and they are discovered.

Enjolras has to fix this. It was his call to send Courfeyrac and Bahorel, his call that put them in danger. He paces the cockpit.

“I’m going in after them,” he announces.

“No,” says a voice from the doorway. Grantaire is standing there, shoulders tense, still wearing that ridiculous eyeliner. “We don’t have the numbers for a confrontation.” His voice is quiet, devoid of irony or sarcasm. Somehow, that’s the strangest part of the whole scene.

“I’ll keep it covert,” Enjolras says. “I’ll pretend to be Bahorel’s superior--we’ve still got that spare IGR uniform, right?”

“We do, but we’d still need a new ID for you,” Combeferre replies. “It’s the same problem.”

“The guard’s less likely to check the credentials of a superior, you know that,” Enjolras snaps. Every second they debate is a second Courfeyrac and Bahorel lose.

“Let someone else do it,” Grantaire adds, grave. “We’ve got four or five working aliases between us--”

“Nobody with the clearance to extract them,” says Enjolras. He sighs, rakes his fingers through his hair. “How fast can you make a new ID, Grantaire.”

Grantaire shakes his head. “Not fast enough.” “Then I’ll have to go without.”

“Please don’t do this, Captain.” Grantaire swallows, stares unblinking at Enjolras. “We can’t lose you.”

Later, Enjolras thinks. Later he will pause to examine this moment, the way Grantaire’s voice cracks on ‘you,’ the way his own throat aches in sympathy. Later, because there will be time, because this plan will work.

“Cosette, get ready to make a fast exit,” says Enjolras, already peeling off his captain’s vest. “Tell Feuilly to stoke the engines. Bahorel, keep stalling. Courfeyrac, make your way back to the ship as discreetly as you can. And Grantaire? Have a little faith.”

Grantaire’s choking, hysterical laughter follows him out of the cockpit.

The sun is bright and surreal in his eyes after so many days shipside. Enjolras strides forward, trying to make his speed look commanding and not desperate.

“You there!” he shouts at Bahorel and the guard. “You’re not paid to stand around chatting!”

“Sorry, sir!” Bahorel barks.

“Sorry, sir!” the guard echoes.

“Report back to your stations immediately!” says Enjolras.

“Yes, sir!” Bahorel jogs off, and Enjolras’s heart lightens.

The guard blinks back at him.

The best way to stem critical thinking and divert suspicion is to play into strong emotions. Fear works well. Enjolras launches into a lengthy, furious lecture on the importance of professionalism, of duty and obedience and manning your goddamn post.

“Sir,” says the guard slowly, “I was on break…”

An actual official of the IGR would know this. An actual official of the IGR would be able to access the roster.

“Meadows dismissed me at 09:00,” the guard continues, “Senior Officer…?” One hand is on his radio. There are people everywhere, no way to stop him without making a scene. Enjolras prays that Courfeyrac and Bahorel are already back on the ship.

“Sir!” someone is yelling from behind him. “Sir!” Enjolras spins around. Grantaire is running towards them at full speed. He’s wearing Feuilly’s mechanic coveralls with Musichetta’s leather gloves, to hide the knuckle tattoos, and a pair of goggles jammed over his dark curls to cover the eye makeup. “Sir!” Grantaire calls, “beg pardon, but you left this in the transport!”

In his outstretched hand is a pristine new ID card, emblazoned with the words Major General Hugo.

The guard looks a little pale.

“Would you like to continue to question me,” asks Enjolras, deadly calm.

“No, sir!” The guard executes a sloppy salute and turns on his heel.

Grantaire is doubled over, breathing raggedly. He must have sprinted the whole way. Feuilly has a slighter build; the mechanic suit strains at the shoulders and biceps.

“Thank you,” says Enjolras, as dispassionately as he can, mindful of the crush of people on all sides.

“No...tip...necessary,” Grantaire manages between pants. “Just...glad...to be...of service.”

Once they are safely back in space again, the mood on the ship is messy and ebullient. They may be down to protein tabs, but it turns out there’s still wine.

Bahorel is cheerfully regaling everyone with the story, including a spirited impression of Enjolras as a tyrannical senior officer. Enjolras half-expects Grantaire to be in the thick of the festivities, but he is absent from the mess hall. Nor is he in the cockpit or the engine room or the training room.

Enjolras finds him, finally, in the hydroponics lab.

“Thank you,” he says, and Grantaire jumps.

“You already said,” Grantaire replies with a crooked smile. There is a measure of truth in that smile, but something else, too. Enjolras allows himself to remember that argument in the cockpit, and it’s as though that glimpse of the slipping mask has granted him a better sense of it now.

“I mean it,” Enjolras pushes. “You risked your life, and I appreciate it.”

He’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not laughter. “God,” says Grantaire, bitter and amused, “don’t. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Act like this represents magnificent sacrifice on my part. I acted with extreme selfishness.”

Enjolras frowns. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you really?” Grantaire’s voice is climbing. “Come on, Enjolras, I refuse to believe you’re this obtuse. You must know.”

It’s beyond confusing. “Know what?” Enjolras repeats. “If you’re going to talk in riddles, at least make it rhyme.”

“Well, fuck,” says Grantaire, and an edge of that hysterical laughter is back. “Fuck, what rhymes with, ‘I’ve been desperately in love with you since I very first heard you preaching fire and brimstone and freedom on the quad?’ It’s a little, it’s a little tough to make that scan, but Jesus Christ, give me a second--”

There is a long pause as every neuron in Enjolras’s brain swivels, reconfigures, sputters back into life. Several things suddenly make more sense. Several things also make less sense, but he’ll have time to sort that out.

They’re alive. They have time.

“Grantaire,” he says, hears himself say, “will you go out with me?”

There is a much longer pause. “...say again?” mumbles Grantaire.

“Grantaire, will you please take off those stupid goggles and go out with me?”

“Wow, uh.” The goggles land on the floor, and Enjolras watches those blue eyes widen.

Enjolras fits his hand to the side of Grantaire’s face because he can, because they’re both still breathing and the skin of Grantaire’s jaw is warm and rough with stubble. When Enjolras presses their mouths together, Grantaire’s lips are soft, almost hesitant until something inside him seems to snap and then they are kissing with abandon as the hydroponic system softly mists the air around them.

Presently, Grantaire pulls away. “Are you sure, I mean, are you one hundred percent sure this isn’t just gratitude at how I totally saved your ass?”

“I’m sure,” says Enjolras. “Although, I do think you deserve a reward for that.”

“Yeah?” says Grantaire.

Enjolras takes a deep breath, carefully schools his face. “Shiver me timbers,” he says, totally deadpan, before reaching out to reel Grantaire back in.

Grantaire’s grin is brighter than a supernova.

[liannyeong]

If you want to keep me (you gotta love me harder)

Summary: The mending of a relationship or...? // Part 3 of If happy is her (I’m happy for you) // Part 2 // Part 4 (Final)

Word count: 7147

Pairing: Jaebum X OC

Warning(s): fluff with a little angst :)

A/N: Title is from Ariane Grande’s Love Me Harder :) This should have finished the whole AU but... not just yet. I thought it’d be unfair for those who are waiting for the next part so I decided to post up the first half. It’ll be too long if I post the whole part at once though the second half is still not written yet. I hope to finish it in a few days’ time... I just gotta hope for the best. ^^

"Where are we, Jaebum?" Sujin asks when the male turns off the engine. Sujin still has no clue of what their date is supposed to be. Jaebum had driven them to a nearly full parking lot, where there is nothing but trees all around. There's not even a single building around. She wonders what could possibly be hidden in this forest.

"You'll see," Jaebum replies instead, a smile on his lips. He unbuckles his seat belt and nods outside of the car. "Come on."

Sujin shoots him an unconvinced look, but follows anyway. Donned in an oversized cream sweater and a pair of dark blue denim jeans, Sujin wonders if she picked out the wrong outfit for the occasion. Perhaps Jaebum wanted to do a sports activity in this forest. She glances at the male who's at the trunk of the car, getting who-knows-what from there. Jaebum isn't even dressed for a hiking exercise though: light grey shirt, black bomber jacket over it, paired with light-washed ripped jeans and sneakers. He didn't even style his hair, the same exact way when Sujin met him on their 'blind date' the week before. With those layers of clothes, there's no way he's going on a hike. There's no way any of them are hiking.

Jaebum pulls out a duffel bag then slams the trunk shut. He locks the car with the click of a button and beckons Sujin to follow. Dreadfully, Sujin trails behind him, praying hard that it's not what she thinks. Jaebum leads them up a pebbled trail and down, before Sujin finally sees an open field that stretches a few hectares, the perimeter lined with the dark green forests. She spots a pavilion in the center and a mass of people in front of it. Sujin expects Jaebum to lead them forward, but he stops at a spot further away from the crowd, near to the outline where the forest starts instead. He doesn't say anything as he places his duffel bag down and unzips it, pulling out a folded material. Jaebum lays out the mat under the shade of a tree, pinning it down with various weighty objects. Sujin just blinks at the male when he takes off his shoes and settles down comfortably on the mat. Jaebum pats down the space next to him -- an invitation for her to join him.

"A picnic?" Sujin asks as she toes off her flats, and takes the spot next to him, leaving a gap in between. Even though their position has no skin contact between them, Sujin still feels highly conscious of the male beside her. Very easily, they can transgress each other's boundaries if they want to. Sujin wonders if she even wants.

"Something like that," Jaebum says with a shrug. A little grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "You'll see soon enough."

Sujin just hums as a response and crosses her legs. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, so she places them on her lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Jaebum has already gotten comfortable at his spot. His legs are outstretched, his body leaning back with his hands as the anchor point. He looks so carefree, as if there exists no tension between them. It seems as if there was no huge fallout between them. Sujin knows she shouldn't think of such things when they're trying to mend their relationship, but it constantly nags at her. How can Jaebum be so relaxed and confident? How is it that he can pretend as if nothing happened?

The sound of rustling snaps Sujin from her thoughts. "I've got some soda, if you want," Jaebum says as he places the canned drinks at the empty spot between them. "I also brought some bread," he adds, dumping packs of sweet buns onto the mat.

"Thanks," Sujin says as she grabs a can of soda. She tries to busy herself with the food and drinks in front of her, alternating between sipping slowly from the can and nibbling on the bread.

Sujin pointedly avoids looking at Jaebum, eyes trained on the pavilion in the distance. She considers how the mass of people are facing the pavilion, all comfortable on their laid out mat, happily buzzing about. It's like they're all waiting for something to happen and when a crew comes onto the stage to set up the audio equipment, Sujin finally put two and two together: it's an outdoor concert. She doesn't know how to react. For one, Sujin is pleased that he didn't bring her out on a luxurious and fanciful date at a fine restaurant. Despite being surrounded with mosquitoes and flies and insects, there's something therapeutic being with nature. However, at the same time, Sujin wonders if she'll enjoy a concert she doesn't even know about. She wonders if she'll enjoy the type of music that may not be to her liking.

"Sujin-ah," Jaebum says. Sujin flicks her eyes to the male's face. He has shifted his position: legs half-crossed, back hunched forward. He's peering into her face, and Sujin tries not to cringe away. "Do you not like it here?"

Sujin blinks, mildly surprised by his question. Jaebum lets out a sigh as he continues, "You haven't spoke a word since we came here. I'm guessing you don't like it here."

"No, I don't feel that way," she speaks. Sujin scratches the back of her neck. "I don't don't like this place. I'm just worried?"

"Worried?" Jaebum echoes, a frown etched on his face. "About?"

"Um..." Sujin trails off.

"Hey, if you don't like it here, you can just tell me, you know. I won't get mad. We can always go somewhere else."

"No, it's not that!" Sujin denies, hands up in front of her and waving desperately. She doesn't want Jaebum to get the wrong idea. She doesn't hate any of this. She drops her hands. "I'm just worried I wouldn't like the music here," she says lamely.

Jaebum looks at her with a blank look, and it feels like the world stops with that few seconds of silence. But then, her heart nearly stops when a smile breaks onto Jaebum's lips and he laughs. His eyes forming crescents, his teeth exposed, his laughter rings in the air. He arches his back, hands over his stomach, head thrown back.

"You're adorable," Jaebum chuckles when his laughter finally died and he's back in his previous position. Sujin is taken aback by the sudden compliment (if that is considered to be one), her cheeks burning. She lets her head hang low, hoping to hide away her face.

"You're red," Jaebum points out. Sujin doesn't even look up, doesn't want to look at Jaebum in the eyes, afraid she'd turn even a darker shade of red. But Jaebum reaches out for her chin, a finger tipping it up, eyes peering into her face. Sujin makes a mistake of meeting his eyes, flushing even more. She slaps his hand away as a reflex, burying her face into her hands. Now, she wants nothing but to sink into the ground and hide away.

Jaebum doesn't stop though as he comments, "Why are you so red?" Sujin wants to curse at the male for pointing it out again. But at the same time, she wonders if he's teasing her. She feels his warm hands wrapping around her wrists and pulling her hands away from her face. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Are you flustered from being called adorable?"

Oh, he's teasing alright.

"Ah, what do I do when you're so cute right now?" he teases, grinning.

Sujin wonders the same. What will he do? But the warmth of his hands are gone, and he's drawing back. His smile doesn't fade away when Sujin looks up, but his gaze are full of warmth and fondness that she swears her heart just melted.

"I won't do anything to you unless you're okay with it," he says, tone rather serious yet gentle. He smiles once more, and Sujin can't quite read it. It's as if he's disappointed that he doesn't have the same freedom as he used to in the past. It's as if he's restraining himself in so many ways just to make her comfortable with him again.

The sound of the tapping of a microphone booms over the field, interrupting their conversation. Jaebum doesn't spare her a second glance as he shifts himself to face the pavilion. Sujin does the same. She finally notices how the crowd has grown and she's thankful that Jaebum has chosen a spot far from the cluster of people. There's barely any space between two different cliques of people, no sense of privacy. The host starts talking about the concert setlist and the band invited, but none of the information goes into her head. Like a broken record, her mind just can't help but replay their close contact earlier and his words.

A band comes onstage, a group of five young men, each carrying an instrument: three guitars, one cajon, one keyboard. They bow to the crowd after they finished setting up, briefly introducing themselves before playing the first piece of music. Surprisingly, all of them take turns to sing, except for the drummer, and all of them have such beautiful voices. They performed a variety of genres, from upbeat music to slow ballads. Some songs are their original compositions, whereas others are covers of famous songs and singers.

Jaebum hums along to songs that he knows, softly singing to himself. It's a voice Sujin never realized she missed so bad. Jaebum had always sang in the showers, loud enough that she could hear whenever she was in the bedroom. Jaebum isn't a singer, but Sujin thinks he could easily pass off as one whenever he sings with emotions.

It turns out, Sujin doesn't even listen to the voices of the men onstage. Instead, with her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around it to keep there, Sujin has her head tilted to Jaebum's direction, listening to his voice. She watches in awe as the male sings. Her eyes wander from where his bangs nearly touches his brows, to the steep nose bridge, to the dip of his eyes, to the soft round nose, to his chapped lips. She watches as his lips form each syllable, focusing on the sound that comes out of it. She lets her eyes linger there for a few moments, before shifting her gaze back up. She traces the steep jawline of his, to the curve of his ear, then back to his eyes. As he sings, she notices how his eyes shut tight at certain parts. It's as if he's actually feeling the song with all of his heart, all of his soul. As if he means every single word that comes out of his lips.

She must have stared for a long time for it took her a while to actually realize that Jaebum has stopped singing, that the concert is already over, that Jaebum has turned his head to stare back at her. She blinks, letting their eyes linger, never breaking the contact.

"You sing beautifully," Sujin utters, eyes blinking slowly.

"Thank you," Jaebum laughs awkwardly, his skin a little flushed. He seems happy with the compliment though, his lips curled up into a smile that makes him look boyish. "Let's go home."

Sujin nods, helping the male pack up before heading back to his car. The drive back to her apartment is a quiet one. Jaebum doesn't say anything until they finally stopped at the drop-off point of the building.

"I hope you liked today. It isn't anything fun, but I still hope you enjoyed yourself."

Sujin smiles at him, assuring him as she says, "I really did. Thank you."

Jaebum nods. "See you soon?"

"Yeah, sure." Sujin unbuckles her seatbelt and pushes the door open. "Goodnight, Jaebum."

---

It takes a few more dates before Sujin finally relaxes herself and be comfortable around Jaebum. She has allowed herself to smile more, laugh more, and be more talkative with the male. She no longer gives him curt replies nor disinterested looks. Jaebum seems much happier too. Nevertheless, they don't go further than smiles and laughter. They don't hold hands, don't hug, don't kiss, don't touch one another. It's still a boundary that they set between themselves, and as much as Sujin thinks she's ready to break down that wall, she's still hesitant. Jaebum probably wants it too, but neither initiates anything, still thinks the other needs more time.

It's a date at a carnival, which unsurprisingly, is packed with people. Which, unsurprisingly, makes it easy for Sujin and Jaebum to lose each other in the sea of people unless they stick together. Jaebum walks in front of her, a leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, a black cap on. He clears the path for her to trail behind easily, but the mass of people pushing about each other still makes it difficult for her to pass through. Jaebum constantly turns back just to make sure she's right behind him and something about him looking out for her makes her heart race. She briefly wonders what he would do if she disappears halfway. Find her, maybe. It proves to be a bad time to be distracted for Sujin gets shoved aside by the current, losing Jaebum who continues to move forward. She tries to catch up, eyes trained on the back of the male's head, pushing against the current. But in her attempts to move forward, she loses sight of Jaebum. Pulling out her phone to dial the man would be a bad idea, considering the jostling which can slap her phone out of her hand. So Sujin continues to go forward, straining her neck out to spot the male.

Out of nowhere, a hand shot out and wraps itself around her wrist. Sujin nearly jumps in shock, but when she turns around, she lets out a sigh of relief for Jaebum has found her first. "Keep close," he says. He doesn't let go of her wrist as they propel forward together, all the way until the crowd is less dense and they have enough space to breathe easy.

There's nothing much on this side of the carnival, only booths that sell the usual cotton candy, popcorn and drinks and a unpopular rides. There's a Ferris wheel just a little down the path, and Sujin suggests they ride it since the queue is short. Jaebum just follows along, taking the seat opposite of her in the small capsule.

As the wheel turns and their capsule goes up, Sujin marvels at the sight of the lights. The night sky is illuminated by the lights of the carnival. It's a mini Ferris wheel, not too high to see the whole city landscape but Sujin still thinks the view is beautiful. She can see people from all walks of life clustered in the heart of the carnival, enjoying their time together. She feels contented.

She sneaks a glance at Jaebum, but is flustered when she finds that he's already staring back. She hopes the poor light doesn't give her red cheeks away. "W-what? W-why are you staring at me like that?" she stutters, and she internally curses herself.

"Nothing, it's just that... you look really happy." The lights from the rest of the carnival illuminates the side of his face, allowing Sujin to see the fondness on his looks. He looks beautiful in this dim light, as if he's a sculpture made from marble.

"Of course I am!" Sujin says, her lips breaking into a smile. "It's fun here!"

"Here?" Jaebum repeats quietly though Sujin can clearly hear with the stillness of the air. He leans back, so that the darkness engulfs his whole face. She wonders if he's disappointed, if he expected a different reply.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the capsule stops and the door swings open. The usher is already politely smiling as he gestures them to come out. Once out, Sujin wonders if something has shifted between them. There's some tension in the air, some tension in his shoulders, that Sujin has no idea how to address. She knows it has something to do with their minimal conversation during the Ferris wheel ride, but has no clue of what exactly is the problem. Jaebum doesn't say anything either as he gets them two cups of slushies. They sip on their drinks, quietly going further away from any other people. Sujin spots an empty bench and leads them there, settling down side by side. No words are exchanged, only the sound of their slurps.

Fireworks start exploding in the sky, and Sujin is in awe of the colors. It's not often she gets to see the beauty of the pyrotechnics in person, so it's a wonderful moment and memory to engrave in her mind.

Sujin sneaks a glance at Jaebum, who is pointedly watching the skies. His hands propped on the bench, the empty cup on his right. Sujin is thankful that the space between them is empty, so that she can scoot a little closer. She turns her attention back to the skies as she timidly reaches out, inch by inch, until her little finger touches the side of his hand. She bites her lower lip hard, holds her breath as she braves herself further. She's afraid Jaebum would flinch and pull his hand away but is surprised when his hand stays there -- very still -- as if waiting and daring her to go further. Nevertheless, Sujin feels his fingers spread wider -- an invitation so that she could easily worm hers into them. He turns his palm up, so that their fingers can interlock. Just like that, Jaebum engulfs the whole of her hand with his large palm, like a fire spreading through forests. Sujin's body burns up, dizzy at the warmth of his hand.

She can't even marvel at the beauty in the sky anymore, her own heart bursting into flames just like the fireworks. It's been that long since she last felt Jaebum's warmth, she doesn't even know she missed it so much. She feels the male closing the remainder of the gap between them, their side of their thighs touching, their arms bumping.

"Shall we go home?" Jaebum says like a whisper to her ear. Sujin nods, and they head back into the parking lot. Sujin doesn't slip her fingers out of his, keeps it entwined all the way until they have to part to get into the car.

Contrary to their first date weeks back, this time, their ride back home isn't quiet. Jaebum plays a list of songs that she knows so well, singing to each and every song. They laugh whenever they get confused with the lyrics, every time they sing off key, every time they went a beat early. Finally, Jaebum stops the car at the drop-off point of her apartment, head turned to her, watching as she unbuckles her seat belt. The light atmosphere has dampened a little, and Sujin fiddles with her fingers, not making an effort to alight yet.

Jaebum looks at her expectantly, brows raised. Sujin clears her throat, then hesitantly asks, stuttering a little, "D-do you want to come up for awhile?"

Jaebum seems taken aback by her invitation, for his eyes are wider. She's nervous with his reaction and at the same time, flustered. The last time he was in her single apartment, it didn't end on a good note. But now, she hopes it'll be different.

Jaebum smiles, but shakes his head. "It's fine," he says. "You must be tired. You should rest."

"I don't mind staying up a little bit more..." she trails off.

Jaebum shakes his head again. "It's fine, Sujin-ah." Then he hums, thinking for awhile before he says, "Maybe another time?"

Sujin nods. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Sujin-ah." Jaebum smiles, eyes looking at her so fondly.

Sujin prepares herself to open the door, but halfway, she pauses. Then she turns around, ignoring the surprised look on Jaebum's face. She leans forward, over the gearshift, eyes focused on that one spot. She shuts her eyes as she comes closer. Her lips touch his cheek, then she applies some pressure. She hears a soft gasp from his lips. Slowly, she pulls away, a shy smile on her lips, her cheeks a shade of pink.

"Goodnight, Jaebum-ah," she says softly, taking in the surprised look on his face before climbing out of the car. She waits by the side, waving him goodbye as he drives off.

---

"Jaebum-ah, I have something to say," Sujin starts when she comes over to Jaebum's -- their -- apartment. The apartment hasn't changed a bit, still in the same way when Sujin left close to a year ago. Jaebum's shoulders tenses up, eyes on her like a preying eagle. He lets out a soft "Yeah?" and Sujin just had to reach out for his hand. She slips her fingers into his palm, rubbing circles on the back of it with her thumb. "I'm thinking of moving back in here. With you."

Jaebum's face light up, eyes gleaming like the stars in the night sky. He couldn't hide his joy, a wide smile plastered on his lips. "Really?" he asks excitedly.

"Yeah, really," Sujin replies, stepping closer towards the male. She takes his other hand, swinging their arms lazily. "I think it's time."

Jaebum smiles never fade, as he brings her hands up. He leans in and Sujin watches as he kisses the part where her fingers meet her knuckles. She blushes but doesn't pull away. If anything, she loves the way Jaebum is treating her like a princess. It truly is time for them to patch up and live under the same roof again. After all, Jaebum has been treating her right this time. Everything is falling into place.

Jaebum lowers their hands but pulls her even closer that she lightly bumps into his chest. All at once, he lets go of her hands and brings them up to wrap her body into a hug. Sujin swears she feels her pulse spike up, her ears pressed against where his heart is. She can hear the beating of his heart as rapid as hers. One of his hands around her waist, the other patting her head lightly. Sujin feels him tucking her head under his chin. Sujin feels her cheeks burn, and she hides her face into his chest, her hands bunching into the cotton material of his shirt on his back.

They stay like that for what seemed like an eternity, though Sujin would be more than willing to stay like that forever. When they pull away, the fondness in Jaebum's eyes is more profound. He brushes off her cheek then leans forward to kiss her forehead. Sujin lets out a soft gasp, surprised. If she thinks she couldn't turn any redder, she was dead wrong.

Jaebum pulls away a second time, ushering her to get comfortable in the couch as he prepares some snacks in the kitchen. He lets her take a pick on a movie to watch, but Sujin took way too long reading the synopsis of every movie listed on the screen so Jaebum ends up selecting one. They huddle up together on the couch, despite the large space left. Sujin keeps herself close to the male, linking an arm around his, head leaning on his shoulder. She can't seem to concentrate on the movie no matter how much she tries to. Perhaps the movie is a slow one, nothing to keep her at the edge of her seat, or perhaps she's more focused on the fact that Jaebum is right next to her. Or perhaps she feels finally at home, with the man she has loved with all her heart, in the house that they built together.

As if sensing that she's no longer paying attention to the scenes, Jaebum breaks the silence. "I'm thinking of a short getaway at the end of the month. Just like the Jeju trip you planned for us."

Sujin looks up from where she was resting her head. "So suddenly?"

"Well, I did promise you we could do another one," Jaebum says sheepishly, turning his head to look down at the female. "It'll be just the two of us again. What do you think?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Jaebum nods with a smile. "Alright, I'll be the planner this time."

"Okay, I look forward to the trip, Mr Im." Sujin chuckles at the use of honorifics, earning a tickle from Jaebum. She didn't even realize he had slipped his fingers to her waist until the tickling sensation comes suddenly. She shrieks which then blended into laughter as she wiggles her way out. The movie is forgotten as Sujin plays along, struggling to tickle the male. He's way too strong for her, and he doesn't even back down in the tickling battle, easily dominating and pushing her onto the couch. She laughs, oblivious to the way Jaebum's eyes have darken. Only when her eyes meet his, her laughter dies, that she realizes their position. Her hands are pinned next to her ears, Jaebum looming over her.

"J-Jaebum-ah..." she calls out, voice weak and powerless.

The movie plays in the background, the colors of the screen lighting the side of Jaebum's face. Sujin feels breathless from the weight of Jaebum's gaze and his body. She thinks things will escalate from here, but the heat in his gaze suddenly dissipates, as if the fog that blinded his eyes have cleared. He doesn't back away though. Instead, he frees a hand to cup her face. Sujin gasps at the warm sensation, his palm rough against her skin. His gaze softens as he rubs the pad of his thumb on her cheek.

"Are you really sure about moving back in with me?" he asks lowly.

Sujin gulps her spit, and she notices Jaebum's eyes following the motion of her throat. "Why? Do you not want me to?" she says back in a hushed voice.

Jaebum shakes his head slightly. He pushes himself off, sitting up. Sujin just blinks at the loss of the looming figure before sitting up too. Jaebum didn't shift away, seated where her legs are. "It's not that I don't want you to. I just don't want to pressure you."

"You're not. I want to," Sujin says. "I really want to."

It takes Jaebum a few moments, eyes darting about on her face as if searching for something, before he's nodding slowly like he finally understood her words. "Okay... But can you wait until after our trip? Just in case you might feel you're not ready yet. Besides, you've probably got a lot to pack. You will need the extra time."

"Okay. I can settle with that."

---

Jaebum never fails to surprise her. He didn't give her a clue about their short trip -- only smiling at her when she asks and only saying, "It's a secret" as an answer. She's left with a pout on her lips, arms folded across her chest as she looks out of the car, guessing out loud. Jaebum chuckles every time she tries, but doesn't shake his head or nod to it. Not a single damn hint were given.

The drive was a long one even though it's near the capital of South Korea, where they live. Apparently, it's just a few kilometers outside of the capital yet it takes them hours to reach. Sujin was already restless with no idea where they're heading, but it all ends when the road becomes a little bumpy and more winding, making her nauseous. Thankfully, when the car stops, Sujin didn't puke anything at all.

The moment she steps out, the fresh air hits her face, and she breathes easy. There's nothing much to see, only a vast space of land around, acting as a parking lot. Trees are all around the perimeter. It's almost like a forest trail as they navigate around the forest to get to their room. For a campsite concept, the architectural aspects of the buildings are modernized, nothing traditional -- the walls aren't made of wooden logs stacked together to form a cuboid. There are cabins of all sorts of shapes: trapeziums, domes, cylinders. Each cabin is so far apart from another that the silence that falls whenever they're not having any conversation is eerie. It's like they're the only ones in the area, away from any other single human being. There's no way they can hear their neighbors nor can they be heard by anyone. This thought brings a cold shiver down Sujin's spine. She's all alone with Jaebum.

Jaebum leads them to the direction of the trapezium cabins. Sliding glass panels make the door, with opaque curtains that can be drawn for privacy. A wooden bench is situated just outside of the cabin. A PVC canvas material forms the roof of the cabin and a canopy for the wooden bench. When they enter their designated cabin, Sujin marvels at the minimalistic concept: a bed pressed against the leg of the trapezium prism shape of the cabin, clear glass windows on the opposite. Any further in would be the washroom, a small kitchen counter and a wardrobe lined up side by side. Jaebum places his duffel bag against the window, and does the same to her luggage bag. Sujin looks around, exploring the interior of the cabin.

Only when her eyes fall onto the neat bed, did a thought cross her mind. What are their sleeping arrangements? It slipped off her mind as she was so absorbed in admiring the surroundings. Jaebum doesn't seem fazed as he moves around the cabin, organizing his belongings in the washroom and the wardrobe. Even though Sujin has decided to move in with the male, she's still not truly ready to sleep on the same bed with him. The thought of it makes her cheeks burn, her heart race. She wants to ask, but decides against it. It might make the air awkward if she brings it up now. Besides, it's not a concern now, is it? It can be dealt with later when they're sleepy.

Sujin doesn't unpack her stuff entirely, only places her toiletries into the washroom, before heading out of the cabin. She sits at the bench, eyes wandering into the forest.

"Do you want to walk around?" Jaebum's soft voice fills the air. Sujin nearly jumps up in excitement, nodding her head eagerly. Jaebum's gaze softens and he chuckles before nodding his head at the forest a few meters away.

Sujin easily slips her hands into his, the sides of their bodies touching as they enter the woods. They don't speak much as they stroll together. Even though their palms are clammy and sweaty from the walk, neither feels disgusted to pull away. It's early spring, the snow still thawing, flowers very slowly blooming into pretty colors.

There's a spot at the end of the trail, and Sujin sharply inhales, appalled by the scenery. Sitting through the winding road wasn't an effort in vain. Hiking up the mountain-like area wasn't a waste. The area is almost like the summit of a mountain. The high elevation gives a panoramic view of the capital.

"Do you like it?" Jaebum asks.

"Like it? I love it! This place is so pretty!" Sujin squeals hard, unable to contain her excitement. She barely hears Jaebum's soft laughter as she googly-eyes everything around her. She fishes out her phone and starts snapping away multiple shots of the same angle.

She's way too engrossed in taking the shots that she doesn't notice Jaebum being so close behind her, until she feels a hand on her waist and another sliding up to her hand that is holding the phone. Sujin nearly gasps when she feels his warm breath on her ear, heart thumping at the close proximity. Jaebum's finger grazes over hers, flipping the camera. He directs the phone higher to capture their waist and above. Jaebum wraps his arms around her waist, bending a little to rest his chin on her shoulder. Sujin tries her best to control the flush on her cheeks. Their cheeks pressed together, wide grins plastered on their lips, Sujin snaps a photo.

It happens almost in a blink of an eye, but with her eyes on phone screen, she can see it all so clear: Jaebum turns his head and leans in with his eyes closed, pressing his lips to her cheek. She freezes, shell-shocked at the sudden kiss. Jaebum's lips linger there before being pulled away. Sujin tilts her head to look at the male in person, blinking at him. Jaebum only shoots her a warm smile, before placing a hand around her neck, tipping their foreheads together. It's not the most comfortable position for her, with the way her hand is trapped between their bodies. So she drops her hand and turns her body. Their fronts pressed together, their foreheads still in contact, Sujin snakes her arms around Jaebum's waist. She lets out a contented sigh when Jaebum cups her face and kisses her forehead so softly.

Then he pulls away, breaking the embrace just so that he can hold her hand. He doesn't say anything as he leads them back to their cabin.

---

Jaebum seems restless after his trip from the nearest grocery store. They had bought everything they needed for their meals but they had forgotten the charcoal. They couldn't grill the meat without a fire, so Jaebum decided to head to the nearest store. Sujin didn't notice anything until she sees the way Jaebum has been glancing out of the cabin from time to time, as if afraid someone would come knocking. Sujin did ask, but Jaebum only shook his head as a reply so she decides to leave him be. They split the cooking: Jaebum doing the grilling while she makes the stew. Jaebum is already back to his normal mood as they eat at the wooden bench outside. It's already pitch black, only the sound of the cicadas can be heard whenever silence falls between them. Nevertheless, there's nearly no space for silence when they keep chatting away and cracking unfunny jokes. When their stomachs are finally full and the plates are empty, Sujin takes the initiative to clear the table and clean the dishes. She tells the male to rest instead, for he had taken the trouble to drive for long hours.

As Sujin washes the plates, Jaebum comes creeping behind her like in the woods earlier. He wraps both his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her neck. Sujin hums in content, tilting her head aside to let the male nuzzle closer. Jaebum drags her hair to the other side so that he can access more skin. Sujin feels a deep inhale on her neck, as if Jaebum is breathing her in. As if she's the oxygen to his lungs. Jaebum starts peppering soft kisses on the exposed skin, from her neck down to her shoulder then back to her jaw. Sujin quickly finishes her washing, then ruffles Jaebum's hair with her dried hands.  

She tears his hands away from her waist so that she can face the male fully. Jaebum's hands settle on the small of her back, holding her so gently. Sujin hooks her hands around the male's neck, and Jaebum lowers his head to press his forehead against hers. They sway slowly to no music but the rhythm of their heartbeats.

Sujin leans back a little, catching the way Jaebum's eyes wander on her face before it drops to her lips. He flicks his eyes back up, and Sujin realizes how dark and hooded his orbs are. A hand leaves her back and Jaebum's warm palm is on her cheek. Sujin revels in the way the pad of his thumb brushes the skin. His eyes gets even darker, the gaze dropping to her lips once more. It lingers there, and Sujin waits for him to close the gap.

But he doesn't, looking pained.

"Jaebum-ah," Sujin nearly purrs. "What are you waiting for?"

"I--" Jaebum breathes out. Impatient, Sujin tiptoes and leans forward, effectively sealing their lips together. She doesn't know when she closed her eyes for all she sees is black. But all her other senses are amplified. She can smell the smoky scent that stuck to his clothes from the grilling of meat, she can feel the weight of his hand on the small of her back and his rough palm on her cheek. She doesn't even realize she's exerting nearly all of her body weight until she feels Jaebum stumbling back. It's been so long since she last kissed Jaebum, and it just feels so good.

They pull away moments later, breathless. But Jaebum starts chasing her lips again as he twirls them around and pushing her backwards until she gets knocked down onto the bed. Jaebum peppers kisses all over her face, whispering, "I love you." Then he starts kissing down her jaw to her neck, heaving repeatedly, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you--"

Sujin tangles her fingers in Jaebum's hair as he mouths at the area just underneath her ear before kissing her lips once more. As the night goes on, the kisses turn into wants, the touches turn into needs, the emotions inside spill out like an overflowing sink.

---

Sujin wakes to an empty bed, and voices in the distance. It sounds like an argument and Sujin just wonders who would be screaming their lungs out right in front of someone's cabin. She sits up, rubbing her groggy eyes, pulling on some clothes before getting out of bed. She glances around but there is no Jaebum so she slides the door open and finally sees Jaebum. In the distance. With a woman.

The woman's back is pressed against the bark of a tree, Jaebum's hands on either side of the woman's head, her fingers pulling on his collar, their lips touching. The voices from before are completely gone and it dawns on Sujin that it was from the two. She stares at the duo, utterly shocked and loss for words.

"J-Jaebum...?" she calls out timidly, hoping what she sees isn't real. Hoping who she thinks isn't who she thought.

That breaks them apart and only then did Jaebum snap his head at her direction.  Horror is painted all over his face and with the way his eyes dilate, she swears his eyeballs could just pop out of its sockets and roll onto the floor. He hastily retracts his hands and turns on his heel, ignoring the woman underneath him earlier. "S-Sujin! It's not what you thi--"

It reminds her of the day she found out the truth. It reminds her of the day at the cafe near Jaebum's office building. It's way too similar to the past. It feels like she's living on loop, the same event happening again. Sujin barely registers Jaebum's long strides towards her, and the woman's yell after him, "Serves you right!" Sujin's eyes flick to the woman's face, and it's vaguely familiar to the one she saw back then. This woman must be Eunha, Sujin guesses. She's gorgeous, Sujin must admit, for her body is lean and all curves. Though she can't see her face upclose, she still reckons she's got a pretty face too. All at once, Sujin feels inferior and worthless. At the same time, she's confused and lost.

Suddenly Jaebum's right in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her into the cabin.

Her mind is hazy as it replays the scene and the many memories before it. Her mind starts piecing the information together, to arrive at a conclusion. The dates, the trip... It all makes sense. Just as how she recreated the memories back then, Jaebum did the same. Only that she was blinded with the thought that it's to rebuild the relationship that was broken. Jaebum had never wanted to mend their relationship, did he? It was all a plan to pull her down. A plan for him to get even. Jaebum had been looking out of the cabin throughout the day as if someone would come. To think he's actually expecting that Eunha to come... Sujin was too blind to see the truth but she does now. Her eyes finally focus onto Jaebum's face. Disbelief, hurt and anger all warped onto her face at once. "You're just trying to get back at me for leaving you, aren't you?"

Jaebum's mouth gape open to speak but Sujin cuts, "You wanted this to happen, didn't you? It was all part of your plan, wasn't it? You just wanted to hurt me again and again! What did I ever do to you for you to treat me like this?"

"I'd never--" Jaebum tries again, but is mercilessly interjected once more.

"I was that close to trusting you again. I was already accepting you back. But you just had to... You never wanted us to get back together, did you? You were so convincing about it, but all you ever wanted was to get even."

"No! That's not--"

"So how was it?" Sujin taunts. "Was it satisfying to play with my heart? Do you feel happy now? Have you had your fill of fun?"

"Is that what you think of me?" Jaebum raises his voice, hurt. "After all the time we spent together, that's how you think of me?"

"Then what do you want me to think?!" Sujin yells, nearly hysteric. "How could she come here if you didn't tell her where you are?"

"I didn't! I don't know how she did either! I bumped into her at the grocery store but she must have followed me here!" Jaebum retorts.

"Yeah, right," Sujin sneers, turning on her heels and to her luggage. "Of all grocery stores, you had to bump into her here," she mutters under her breath. She chucks all her belongings into her luggage bag, not bothering to arrange them neatly.

"Where are you going, Sujin-ah?" Jaebum's voice is full of desperation.

Sujin slams her luggage shut, snapping her head to face the male. "Away from you."

"Please believe me. I swear, I didn't know anything," Jaebum pleads. He grabs her wrist as she makes her way to the door, pulling her back. "I never had any intentions of hurting you. I love you, Sujin-ah, I wouldn't--"

Sujin wiggles her way free, cold eyes meeting his. "No. You don't love me. You never did," she spits. "I'm done with this."

"Sujin-ah--"

"Don't find me anymore. We're done." Sujin doesn't look back as she leaves.

[postedbygaslight]

You’ll Be the One to Turn - Part 14: Rey

The mirror to the Kylo chapter. This is the first time in this story that Rey’s chapter has followed his. I’m not saying that means something. But I’m not not saying that.

Rey walks the corridors of the Vedic III base awhile before admitting to herself that she has no real purpose in mind. Everything in the base is dusty and weatherbeaten. Not as badly as the battered assortment of equipment hauled onto the Falcon from the Crait mine, but not much better either. The whole operation that constituted the Resistance was touched by a certain chaotic patina, and Rey feels as though she is as scattered as the seemingly random stacks of crates and pallets that line the halls.

Everyone here, the soldiers and the pilots, the engineers and the flight crews— even the droids, it seems— all of them look to her to inspire hope. Part of her wants to be that hope, to draw up to the heights they’ve imagined her to occupy. In some ways, she can sense that she already inspires the men and women who have given their lives over to this cause, and that inspiration, with its warm and insistent pull, is difficult to deny. But in other ways, ways that speak to the part of her that’s still a little girl alone in the desert, the hope she senses they crave from her is something she sorely needs herself, and she is gripped by a whispering fear that she isn’t equal to the task.

Becoming the beacon of hope you always wished to find binds you to a destiny built on others’ expectations. But it also cradles you in a sense of shared purpose, needed and admired and relied upon, even if that purpose is only an illusion.

Straight away after her run-in with Poe, Rey had decided to steer clear of having to talk with anyone in particular. She needed a little time to digest everything that had been said over the last few hours. Her talk with Leia had gone far better than she could have reasonably expected, but Leia was perceptive and clever, and had happened upon insight that Rey hadn’t been ready to hear. You love him. It seemed like the most obvious thing in hindsight. And yet, as she crosses through the doorway from the interior of the base to the darkening flight deck, she is aware of a confused swirl of dread and anticipation that encircles her and sweeps between and around her every step.

If Leia’s revelations hadn’t been enough to knock her off balance, her confrontation with Poe had more than made up for it. His words, accusing and condescending, were in some ways warranted. She hadn’t been doing the things everyone assumed she’d be doing by now. But it wasn’t as if she could tell Poe, or anyone else, the real reason why she’s been stuck in place for months. Even now, she can feel the bright thread in the Force that binds her to Ben, and she resists the urge to grab hold of it, even though she feels as though she’s walking along the lip of a high ledge waiting for the ground to give way.

There wasn’t really an easy way to resolve the issues Rey was facing in regard to her role with the Resistance. Poe Dameron was a man well liked among the rank and file, and he was possessed of a natural inclination toward leadership. But Rey, who never knew him until after Crait, can sense that Poe is not as confident and surefooted as he is so eager to project. His anxious impatience with her during their argument betrayed in him a need for the hope she’s meant to embody to be something more tangible than a promise. And Rey knows well that hope is never more than a promise.

The flight deck is a jumble of dogfighters and transports, freighters and a few bombers that would likely never leave Vedic III. At the far corner, tucked away, but anything but inconspicuous, sits the Falcon, and this is where she immediately feels she needs to be. She crosses the tarmac, the evening mist gathering around her feet, and manages to avoid attention all the way to the ship. She considers for a moment whether this is coincidence, or if her desire not to be seen is somehow manifesting through the Force, and concealing her from the senses of those around her without her really thinking about it. The thought is both frightening and fascinating, and it makes her wonder where the line might be drawn between what the Force intends and what she wants it to do.

She opens the boarding ramp and walks up. She doesn’t close it, knowing that she might be inviting unwanted company, but right now, even though she doesn’t want to talk, she also doesn’t want to feel so closed off and tucked away. The open door is a small concession, and she tells herself it’s so the others can take some solace in her being just a few steps away. But it’s more likely that the clinking din from the flight deck drives away sense memories of the deathlike silence that haunted her nights on Jakku.

Any slight smile that might have touched her lips, arranged there to guard against worried looks or gestures of concern, falls away once she knows she’s out of sight. She’s never felt so strongly a desire to be with another person, while also desperately wishing to be left alone.

So when she senses Finn climbing the ramp, she doesn’t get up to meet him, but she also doesn’t retreat to her room. She stays sitting in the common room, and waits for him to wend his way through the freighter’s corridors.

“Hey,” he says, emerging from around the corner.

“Hey.”

He comes over to the table and sits across from her. His expression is all worry and restraint, and Rey can sense his conflicting purposes. Finn had many defining traits, Rey thinks, but duplicity was not among them.

“Rose told me not to ask how you’re feeling. So, I’m not going to ask how you’re feeling.” He maintains his resolve for perhaps five seconds before his face falls into the familiar look of earnest, innocent concern. “How are you feeling?”

Rey can’t help but laugh, and the smile that breaks across her face is as genuine as any that she’s worn in the past months.

“I’m fine, Finn. But thank you.”

“That was a pretty nasty spill you took out there.”

“It was stupid,” Rey says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I shouldn’t have been out there like that in the heat. I know better.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, and Rey can sense that there are a lot of things he wants to add to that thought, but is thinking better of it. “That’s the same thing I was thinking.”

Finn is thinking that Rey is taking too many chances. He’s thinking that Rey ought to have Rose tune down the practice droids, or reactivate their safety protocols. He’s thinking that Rey ought to take it easy, stop trying to force things, know her limits.

Imagine what you could do.

“Have you been all right? Lately? You seem, I don’t know, distracted.”

Rey pauses a moment, and lets the enormity of everything wash through her. She owes it to Finn, with everything she’s keeping from him, to be honest about this.

“It’s a lot. All of it,” she sighs, her shoulders falling. “It’s a lot.”

She looks up to see Finn wearing a look of hesitance and uncertainty. He truly doesn’t know what to say, and Rey isn’t at all surprised or upset. She wouldn’t know either, in his place.

“I don’t know, Finn. I’m trying to figure all this out. And I know people want me to be something for them, but I don’t know what that thing’s supposed to be.”

“Hey. Don’t worry about all that. Just do what you can do. That’s all we care about.”

“I wish everyone felt that way.”

“Is someone giving you a hard time?”

For the briefest of moments, Rey considers unburdening herself and telling Finn all about her argument with Poe. It might even help. Finn and Poe had always been close, and the change in rank had done nothing to diminish that. It wasn’t beyond the pale to assume Finn could talk to Poe and tell him to lay off, to let Rey do things at her own speed. But Rey almost immediately dismisses the idea. This was something she needed to figure out on her own.

“Oh, Finn, don’t worry. I can handle myself.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” Finn says warmly, without the slightest hint of insincerity. “But, remember. We’re here for you.”

Finn stands up, straightening his jacket.

“I’d better get going,” he says, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “I can never remember when sunrise is coming, so I have to schedule my sleep. And Rose gets cold.”

Rey laughs again, and stands up, drawing him into a tight hug. He closes his arms around her shoulders gently, and she feels the light and warmth of his friendship, and finds solace in it. She pulls away, certain she might begin to cry, but somehow, the tears she expects don’t come. And she realizes that the friendship they share is something durable, and has nothing to do with power or destiny or politics.

You did that. Not the Force. Your strength. Your focus.

“Finn. Thank you. For everything.”

He smiles, pats her shoulder, and heads back down the hall. And as he makes his way down the ramp and away from the Falcon, Rey can sense that Finn is no less worried about his friend than before, and, unexpectedly, this fills Rey with a certain measure of peace. Because even if Finn is worried, at least he understands.

***

Understanding is borne of hope. It is the clarity that arises from taking the risk of wanting to know someone, really know them, and having the courage to let them know you. At first brush, that clarity is like a cool wind, brisk and potent, drawing the object of your attentions into sharp relief. But in the whirls and eddies of the Force, the cool and measured outer layers of clarity only form a thin atmosphere, tightly embracing a light imbued with healing warmth. Light that touches every part of what makes a person whole, easing the acceptance of a deeper sense of communion.

It was the reason she had looked closer at all. The reason why she had considered the masked creature in the forest as a man with fears and doubts. The reason why she’d stayed her hand, and granted life to a man who’d just murdered his own father. It was the reason she’d sought to know the depths of his anger, the reason for his hate, the origins of his pain. And it was the reason she chose to look past the monstrous shadow sitting across from her, to see instead a tormented man as confused and as lonely as she. And then she’d touched him, and he’d touched her, and the world was at once wide with the promise of unexplored wonder, and drawn in tight around the two of them, with nothing at all beyond the sounds of shared breath and beating hearts.

And now she finds herself amidst all the things that by right should be his. His father’s ship. His mother’s cause. His grandfather’s lightsaber. And she can’t help but think to her own blighted childhood amidst the wreckage of an empire, scurrying and scrapping through a graveyard with no headstones, daughter to a legacy of ghosts. How, she wonders, not for the first time, could anyone abandon a child to a life in such a place? How, in the midst of mountains of salvage, did two parents decide upon a price for ownership of their little girl? And a bitter chill spreads through her as she wonders how many portions she was worth. Or maybe Plutt deigned to give them credits. Or maybe they accepted barter for drink or stims or another drug of choice.

Rey closes the Falcon’s boarding ramp, and engages the security measures again. She’s through receiving company for the night. She walks back through the ship and arrives, it seems inevitably, at her workbench. She opens the drawer in the storage bay next to the bench and again retrieves the two halves of the kyber crystal. She holds them up to the light, regarding the gentle, pale blue glow radiating from and through the crystal’s facets. She can sense there’s something she’s supposed to do. To repair the crystal somehow. But it seems like madness to even begin to consider how it might be accomplished.

She tentatively rejoins the two halves, turning each piece slowly until she feels that the halves are aligned as they were when the crystal split. The song she heard before is amplified and more pronounced. The crystal, she can feel, yearns to be made whole again. Rey can feel the need of each half of the crystal to be joined with its mate spread through her, and the desperate urgency that attends that need is startling. And a thought takes root in her mind that maybe what she wants and what she’s supposed to do might not be so far removed from each other as she once thought. That thought branches and blooms into a stronger feeling of want, with frantic purpose breathed into it by the specter of loneliness that has been her life’s constant companion.

She glances away from the crystal to the old Jedi books lined side by side in the drawer. The books had called to her on Ahch-To with such a calm gentility, easy and slight and welcoming. But in the time since they’d passed into her possession, they’d revealed nothing but a handful of vague illustrations and pages upon pages inscrutable archaic script. Again, with the books, there was the promise of something she felt she was supposed to do, and, like with the crystal, no hint of aid was forthcoming from the Force.

And here in the dim light of her workstation the struggle and frustrations of what she’s been left to inherit come to bear. She is the symbol of a hope she can hardly comprehend. She is the steward of a legacy lacking context or purpose. She is one half of a broken whole, with no sense or notion of how that break can be healed. But the need, the overwhelming need to find the answer to the puzzle now animates her. It drives her to try to join what can be joined, and to start doing things because she can, not because someone showed her how.

It’s not without a sense of irony that Rey recalls Poe’s rebuke. Poe wants the Jedi Order. But he can’t have it. He can’t have it because it doesn’t exist, and Rey isn’t sure what is meant to rise in its place.

She returns her attention to the broken crystal, its halves still held together by her fingertips. She closes her eyes and lets the light flow through her, sinking into the rushing current of energies that spin and dip around the crystal halves. She feels an instinct, something old and unnamable, calling her to the crystal’s center. But there is no center. It’s been cleaved apart. She begins to picture an image of herself in her mind standing amidst the shorn bindings that once held the two halves together.

She reaches out with her feelings, following the trickles and rivulets of energy out from the crystal’s foundations to each of the countless points of light that dwell within it. And she can feel the song within her as it strains to reach unison. Breathe. Just breathe. The soul of the stone lifts and carries her through its hazy blue dimensions, and she tries to reach to the myriad imperfections that are scattered along the cloven edge. But the damage is too great, and Rey knows that she can’t repair it. She now understands that the resonance longs for the union of two voices, and her light is only one half of an unrealized harmony. The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead.

The effect of the realization is gradual. Her thoughts drift away from the crystal’s ice-blue depths, and she finds herself alone in the muted palette of the real. Leia’s insight had riven a comforting fiction that had sheltered her. I was young once, Rey. And very much in love. I know what it looks like. And she hadn’t been able to deny it. Because once she’d heard it said aloud, the truth of it had burned its way into the foundations of her spirit, and she knew immediately that a barrier had given way that would never be raised again.

But while Rey can’t deny the essential truth of Leia’s words, another truth, pervasive and insistent, remains. Rey can see now that she loves Ben Solo. But she also knows that that love is a result of a vision of the future. And knowing that the future she saw in that vision is only one of many possible gives her pause. As he is now, Ben is still in the cold grip of the darkness, and Rey can feel the chill of its embrace as she sits at the workbench, still holding the crystal halves.

The pain she now senses coursing through the bond is alarming, and she drops the crystal halves onto the bench as she doubles over. She tries to respond to it, reaching out for that bright thread, but the waves of suffering blast through her and she is beset by a rush of images. Her parents, telling her to wait and never coming back. Her own voice, weaving a fantasy of a family who would return and save her. Ben, staring up at her as she closes the Falcon door. And the torrent of dismissive voices from the desert:

Girl. Scavenger. No one. Nothing.

But not to me.

The pain ceases, and Rey is released from its hold on her. In the last instant before the anguish she sensed through the bond suddenly snapped, she felt a blaze of light from the other end. And in that light she felt a warmth so pure and strong that it broke the icy descent threatening to swallow her.

In the hours that pass, the light she felt takes a more solid shape, and she rejects the idea that using that light because it’s what she wants to do is wrong. She decides that her failure to mend the crystal is no failure at all. And she decides that what she wants, what she needs, and what she is supposed to do shouldn’t be separate. She closes her eyes, reaches out for that bright thread, and pulls.

[ilyasvieltrevelyanshepard]

Mako adventures!

Another happy weekend writing for the MEWC :P I enjoy too much this little drabbles XDDDDDD

This time I didn’t go for a prompt, just asked for a pairing and @conqueringthespace said fShenko XD so heeeeere we are, some smutty/stupid adventures with Jane and Kaidan ;)

Hope you like it! As always, it didn’t have a reread or a hard review for typos, so be nice with me hahahaha

Smut under the cut :P

Chasca. The planet looked like a green paradise but is far beyond that. Since they reached the surface, they have fought with pirates, mercs and a bunch of husks. But after hours of moving around the planet, the full team cramped inside the mako, they can say ‘well done’ and return to the Normandy. Tali and Kaidan have been working with the colonist, installing some sensors around the settlement, and upgrading the comm towers. When Shepard calls the Normandy, all the group was there, except Kaidan. Turning to face Tali, the Commander rest her shotgun on a shoulder. “Where’s Alenko, Tali?”

The younger quarian shrugs, signalling over her shoulder to the mountains behind them, “He insisted on staying with the comm buoy until it begins to function.”

Growling exasperatedly, Shepard sheathes the weapon on her back, “And asking me is overrated? Damn, you engineers can destroy a soldier’s patience. Go to the Normandy, I’ll pick up him with the Mako, and we will rendezvous on the next settlement, is closer, and the doctor has to pay a visit there anyway.”

Ashley walks beside her to the Mako, “Don’t be mad at him, Skipper. The colonist has made puppy eyes to him, and our good-hearted biotic can’t resist it.”

“I’m not mad, Ash. I will have let him do it if he has asked. I don’t like my team doing things like going solo while on planetside without a single warning to the commanding officer.” Reaching the Mako, Shepard opens the door, jumping inside before turning to face Ashley, “See you in a couple of hours. Keep them alive until I come back, will you?”

“Aye aye, Skipper.” Shepard was so lost in her own thoughts to hear the chuckle shared by Tali and Ashley when she closed the door.

Shepard is glad to be alone for the first time in the Mako since she joined the Normandy. She has always enjoyed the freedom of driving crazily with this monster of a vehicle. Taking the straighter line to the point where Kaidan was waiting, she climbed and jumped across the mountains. The six-wheel monster truck climbed the almost vertical walls without any problem, making her giggle when the car reaches the top of a mountain, only to laugh hysterically when she makes the Mako fall to the abyss, using the thrusters to stop the falling. Less than half an hour later, her fun ends when she reaches the top of the mountain where Kaidan is sitting, omnitool open and the pistol on a hand. When the sound of the Mako landing suddenly on the area startles him, he jumps from the rock where he has been sitting, weapon on hand. Shepard has to smile to herself, the look of surprise on Kaidan’s face when the Mako appeared from an almost vertical side of the mountain is hilarious. Activating the speakers of the car, Shepard chuckles, “Are we jumpy, LT?”

Storing his pistol on his hip, he crosses his arms, trying to hide his blushing after an angry snort, “Very funny, Commander.”

“You deserve it, for coming up there without asking me. Now move your sorry ass inside, we have a long way until we reach the next settlement where the Normandy is waiting.”

With a last look at the comm buoys, Kaidan walks to the Mako, opening the door and stepping inside. While locking the hatch, he looks around, surprised to see just the Commander on the pilot seat. “Did you drive alone here?”

Looking over her shoulder, she blows away a lock of hair that has fallen from her ponytail over her face, “Said the pot to the kettle. Come here, Alenko, and fix your security belt. I’m not in the mood to take the roads.”

Sitting beside her, he closes the belt quickly, fixing it with a hard thud, “And when did the mighty Commander take the easy roads? I believe we can still smell the result of your first driving demonstration with Wrex on the back.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny, Alenko.” Stepping on the gas, the Mako jumps over the cliff on the other side of the plain, making the passenger swear under his nose before grabbing the armrest with white knuckling force, feet boring themselves in the ground. “Oh gosh, this is gonna be fun!” Shepard manoeuvres the Mako over the walls of the mountain, skidding here and there, using the thrusters to jump over cracks or little valleys, laughing openly every time Kaidan let go a swearing.

“In the name of all the Gods out there Commander! Slow down!”

She keeps laughing, having more fun than she has had on her way there. The LT presence always warms her, and seeing him so unsettled is something new, and very amusing for her. “Why? I’m having fun, Alenko!” Just then, the Mako reaches a little valley between mountains, stopping abruptly when all the controls inside the vehicle turn off. “What the fuck!?” Shepard looks to Kaidan, finding him looking at her with a raised brow, both hands resting on the dashboard. “Not my fault!”

Kaidan’s eyes roll back, a little-lopsided grin fighting its way on his face, “Sure, Commander. But just for the record, that’s the reason we can’t have nice things.”

Blowing the hair from her face with a heated growl, she turns to face him, arms crossed, “I hate you. Now move that engineer ass back there and fix it.”

He chuckles, opening the closes of his security belt, “Feeling bossy, huh? Can’t say I didn’t like it.” The words are out his mouth before he can control them. It seems the adrenaline is running free in his bloodstream, making him talk his mind without filters. He leaves the pilot’s area before the commander can see the soft blush creeping to his face, being sure that even in his darker skin, she will see it. Reaching the back of the Mako, he opens a skylight on the roof of the vehicle, bathing the interior with the soft light of the sun. Opening the central unit console, he connects his omni to it, beginning to run all the diagnose programs he has preloaded on it. The Commander has joined him on the back while he works, leaning on one of the benches, legs stretched in front of her. The programs ended their diagnosis with a beep, and when Kaidan takes a look at it, he huffs, “Shit. We will be here for a while, Commander. The system has blocked itself, and I have to reboot it. It takes around an hour for the system to reload all the processes.”

“Do it. I’ll contact the Normandy and let them know that we will be late.” Knowing that Joker will be an asshole if she calls him, she sends a message to him and Ashley, letting them know that the Mako is stuck in a valley while they reboot the systems. Closing the omnitool, she fixes his gaze on Kaidan’s back, enjoying the movement of his shoulders and hips while he works on the console. Damn, she has grown addicted to that view, thanks to the hours she spent working just outside her quarters.

Kaidan spends around five minutes working on it until a soft beep from the central console signals his success. “Done. I believe we have at least 45 minutes until the system is fully online, and I will need to make a new test before we turn in on, just in case.” She nods stretching her back lazily. “And I have more bad news--”

“Don’t tell me that expending some time alone with me is considered bad news. I know I’m not a charmer like Liara, but I can keep you good company.”

He blushes again, scratching his neck with a hand, “Is not-- Damn, Shepard. I was about to say that the recycling system is one of the last to reboot, and soon the temperature will be too high to keep wearing our armours.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turns her face to the pilot seat, “Sure. Is not enough expending time with me, you have to make it while on your under armour.” With a huff, she stands from the bench walking back to the pilot’s seat, opening the hatches of her chest plate. “Don’t worry, I will stay here, reading, all the back for you, LT.”

An extra pair of hands joined her on the work of freeing her body from the layers of armour. “Don’t be an idiot, Shepard. You know is not what I mean.” Having her back helps a lot to his shyness, “Is not like I have been very subtle about my not so professional interest on you, Commander. Now let me help you to take off all this armour before the heat is unbearable.”

They work in silence for the next minutes, freeing her body from the armour before doing the same for him. Soon, they are facing one another in just their under armour, which did almost nothing to hide their bodies from the other’s gaze. Taking a look from tip to toe, Shepard smiles wickedly when she sees the telltale bulging on his pants. Taking a deep breath, she decides to pursue it, ignoring the little voice in her head saying that it was an awful idea. Stepping into his personal space, she puts both hands on his chest, pushing him back until he reaches the wall. Before he can say a word, she shakes her head, moving the hands lower, until they end on his waist. She can feel the muscles tensing under her touch, “You know, I’ve been doing some researching… I’m a Spectre now, do you know what it means?”

“Besides the obvious?”

Shepard chuckles, tilting her head to one side, “Haha, yeah, besides the obvious. I’m a Spectre. Therefore, I didn’t follow the Alliance regulations anymore. Not me, not my ship, not my crew. We are a Council’s tool, and their laws are the ones we have to follow.” She can feel a little tremor moving up and down his body. “Do you understand what I mean, now?”

Before she can make another stupid retort, he closes the distance, sealing their lips in a passionate kiss. Her hands find the way to his nape and hair, fingers playing with the long locks of black hair, while his hands reach for her back, delving below the under armour to touch her skin directly. Breaking the kiss, he leans their foreheads together, closing his eyes for a second, “And how far do you want to go with that not penalised activities?”

With a wicked smile, she flushes with his body, pressing every curve of her body against his, letting one of her hands slide down until she reaches his chest. “As far as you want to go. Do you want to just kiss? Perfect. Do you want to touch? Perfect too. A handjob, a blowjob? Whatever you want. Damn, you can fuck me senseless against this very wall, Kaidan.”

The hands on her back move lower until he is cupping her ass, raising her from the ground and stepping away from the wall. Shepard wraps her legs around his waist instinctively, gasping softly when his hardness touches her heated core. With a quick movement, he pins her on the wall, pressing himself against her. “That will depend, Jane.” Is the first time he calls her by her name, and it makes the butterflies in her stomach fly free. “It will be a single time fling or do you plan to repeat?”

Shepard lets her hands roam over his head and neck, reaching the amp port and caressing it with knowing movements, making him shudder, “If I have my way, I will share my bed with you later, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.” Pushing away from her to look into his eyes, her frown a serious one when she talks. “What’s the purpose of saving the day if I don’t have who I want to share my life beside me?”

Pushing her again against the wall, he kisses her, almost eating her mouth like a starving man, bitting, lapping, nipping… When Shepard moans, he drinks his pleasures like a good whiskey, letting the feeling wash over him and add to his own. Kaidan breaks the kiss only when he needs to catch his breath, the sound of his breathing sounding high and loud on her hear where he hides his face. “Then there will be time later for the rest. Now I want to fuck you against that wall until you can’t think straight.” Her breathless ‘yes, please’ just add fuel to his fire, making his hips move on their own will to push more against her heat. “But that didn’t mean we can’t take our time.” Moving a hand around her waist, he goes up, caressing the underside of her breast, enjoying the little gasp that escapes her control. Using the thumb, he draws small circles over her nipple, enjoying the feeling of it under the clothes. She arches her back, moaning his name. His answer is pinching her nipple and twists it between his finger, making her gasp and wither under his touch. He keeps working on her breasts, moving from one to the other, biting her neck and shoulders, pressing his hardened bulge against her.

But soon, she had enough, pushing him apart, “Kaidan, if you didn’t tear away my clothes and fuck me senseless in the next minute, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Her voice, even sounding breathless and with a husky tone, carries enough seriousness to be threatening, not that Kaidan has any intention to disobey her… “Aye aye, ma'am.” Pushing away her legs from his waist, he lowers the underwear down as soon as her two feet are on the ground. The panties lay soon forgotten on her ankles, and she manoeuvres her leg to take it off, leaving them hanging from a single foot. While she worked on that, he pulls up her top, freeing her breasts for him. With a contented hum, he lowers his mouth to them, kissing, nipping, lapping, bitting, touching every single inch of skin available. Her back arches, sweat beginning to appear on her skin, but she can’t say if it is because of the heat already spiking inside the Mako or the man in front of her. The urge to touch, to feel, is almost overwhelming. With shaky hands, she roams over his chest, following the lines of his muscles, fingertips caressing his nipples before keeping moving lower and lower. Reaching the hem of his under armour, she slips her hands under it, one of them moving to grab his ass while the other finds its way to his cock, soft fingers wrapping around it and making him moan, breaking his concentration. “Damn, Jane.”

“Stop the teasing, Lieutenant, that's an order.”

He chuckles, breathless because she keeps moving her hand up and down his hardness, “Using your rank in that situation? Tsk tsk, Commander. We will need to fight to decide who commands on the bed, huh?”

Using her free hand, she pushes the underwear down, freeing him from it and keeping the steady rhythm of her hand. “Maybe, but right now, and seeing that I have the upper hand…” She giggles to her own joke, closing her hand around the tip of his cock and doing a little twist with her wrist, eliciting a deep moan from him, “I command you to fulfil your previous threat, Kaidan.”

Kaidan’s hands are on her ass in the next second, raising her again from the floor and making her lose her grip on him with a surprised whelp. The feeling of their sex against one another, without any clothing between them, makes them shudder. Moving his hips back, he searches the perfect position, lowering her slowly, feeling how the tip of his cock breaches her core. She lost any ability to talk or think. Her body seems to be on fire, every nerve of it ready to explode under his touch. After so many months of pent-up, of what-ifs, of wet dreams and lonely nights, they are doing it. Her head hits the wall behind her, while he keeps lowering her on him, impaling her in his hard member until their pelvis touch. His breath sounds ragged, and his voice is even raspier when he talks, “Fuck, Jane. You feel so good.”

Shepard tries to find the words to say, but she can’t think, she can only feel, and instead of words, a low moan leaves her. Using her arms, she raises her body as much as she can, kissing him deeply before letting gravity take her back to her original position, making them moan in unison. After that, he grabs her hips, fixing her upper body against the wall using his chest, and begins to move his hips in earnest. That feeling, the feeling of fullness, of connection, is something they have craved but didn’t know before. He fills her in the most perfect of the ways, reaching every spot that makes her scream. And she seems perfect for him, they fit like puzzle pieces. Her core feels so warm and soft and silky… The curves of her body against his hardness, a beautiful contrast, one he enjoyed greatly. And the noises, the fucking noises are driving them crazy. The wet sounds of their lovemaking, the thuds of their hips when he pushes inside, the moans and little sounds they are doing… Kaidan feels his pleasure peaking sooner than he wants, but feeling her, hearing her, is undoing him. “Come for me, Jane. Let me feel you.” Her only answer is a deep moan when she scratches his back, her inner walls pulsing around him when she comes. And that breaks his control, at last, pushing inside her deeper than before, one, two, three times, until his own orgasm hits him. He grunts her name when cumming, keeping himself buried deep inside her, cock pulsing while her walls milk him.

They remain in the same position for several minutes, catching their breath and letting their hearts recover a more steady rhythm. At last, Kaidan’s leg begins to tremble from the effort of keeping her against the wall, and with a resigned sigh, he touches her leg. She has sensed the tremble and lowers her legs, one at a time, with some help from him. Once she is on her own feet, she wraps her arms around his neck, pushing him down to kiss him. That kiss is sweet and languid, tongues following the lines of their lips, dancing softly midair. A beep from the console beside them breaks the kiss, and Kaidan leans his forehead to hers, smiling softly. “Seems the Mako is rebooted.”

Returning the smile, she cups his face before giving his lips a soft peak, “Perfect. The sooner we are back, the sooner I can lock you in my room for the rest of the day.”

With a chuckle, Kaidan tickles her ribs, making her jump, laughing with him. “Minx. But I like the way you think. Let’s get dressed then. I need to check the systems, and I prefer to do it with some clothes on me.”

Pushing him away, she recovers her clothes from the ground, putting them on with a grin on her face, “You can work right as you are, is not like I didn’t imagine you doing it on that damned console you hover full time next my quarters.”

Dressing, Kaidan gives her head a kiss before opening the omnitool and running the programs he wants on the Mako’s systems. “Just for your information…” He looks over his shoulder, seeing her stack the armours on one of the benches, “That console works perfectly.”

She smiles cheesily, putting on the pieces of her lower armour, “I know. I asked Tali to check it out. I planned to broke it up again just to make you return to it, but it seems you didn’t need any help for that.”

Her confession makes them laugh. The situation, instead of feeling awful, like a fling between squadmates tend to feel, feels perfectly correct. They are at ease, just stupidly happy, with matching grins on their faces. When at last cold air begins to flow around them, Kaidan starts to put on his own armour, helping her to close the chest plate and she returning the favour. When they sit in the front seats, the Mako is perfectly ready to go.

Reaching the rendezvous point, the team is already gathered around the Normandy, talking with the colonists. As soon as they jump down the Mako, Ashley joins them, pushing them away from the vehicle, and giving Wrex the space he seemed to need to approach the open door. The big Krogan burst in laughs as soon as he closes the distance, “Damn, soldier, your stupid plan worked.”

Shepard turns to face Wrex, who is laughing his trademarked ‘tehehehehehe’ while touching his nose. The gesture is what makes her brain react, understanding making her blush intensely. Kaidan is at a lost until Ashley grabs their shoulders, making them come closer, “About time, Skipper. We are getting tired of seeing you two orbit around one another, and Tali and I decided to give you a little help.”

The Commander reacts quickly enough, hitting the other woman ribs, blush still in place. “I’m still deciding if you deserve a kick in the ass or a beer next time we reach the Citadel. Let me think about it while we go to Virmire.”

Kaidan is still blushing, but his smile is as bright as hers when they reach the mess, and the rest of the team just shooed away. It seems they can still find some happiness amidst the chasing...

[thecosywriter]

The Afterglow (Yondu x OC) C2

Soldat was the next destination for the Ravenger team. X'antia and six of the other crew members had been dispatched to the wasteland to carry out a deal in the no man lands. This was neutral territory – ideal for the sale of weaponry and the suchlike. X'antia always carried out the weapons deals, Yondu would secure the deals as Captain and then X'antia as head engineer and a small team of the mercenaries would make the trade-off. On most occasions, the deals would go through smoothly – however when they did not…it was easy to assume that the unfortunate second party did not live to see their side of the bargain fulfilled.

Soldat was a barren desert wasteland comprised mostly of steep sandy hills and the more than regular sand storm which left the faces of the crew sore and raw from the friction. A number of the group that had been blessed with common sense had their bodies covered with layers of clothing and rags, covering their faces and any skin which could be on show and open to the elements. Others were not so smart, never the less the team always collected their money regardless of the situation.

On most occasions, the deals would go through smoothly – however when they did not…it was easy to assume that the unfortunate second party did not live to see their side of the bargain fulfilled.

Collect the money at all costs.

That was the aim of the game. X'antia knew this as much as the rest of the team. She had been making these trades for over a decade – as a child she was more nervous about the transactions; happy to be kept in her room on the ship making the weapons. The yellow haired alien was not a fan of the violence at first – she got used to it quickly.

During one less than pleasant transaction, a punter left the young alien with a nice scar to remember him by. A deep scar edged into the otherwise soft skin of the Valkurian; the then teenager had once made a joke of how she would lose all her punters thanks to her new scar ruining her nice skin.

It was too hot on this planet, the team groaned in unison as they each made their way up the sandy peak pushing and pulling the three large wooden boxes back to the ship. Ideally they thought they would leave the weapons with the trader and made their way back up to the ship with little to no effort. However, plans did not necessarily go as previously thought.

The punter asking to buy X'antia off of the crew did not bode well with the Valkurian and her team, amongst the entire Ravenger crew X'antia did have some allies – a few but they were still there in situations like this. The Ravenger team had locked horns with the trader and his team leading a nice brawl which left the Ravengers with a nice amount of money and a collection of weapons to haul back to the ship.

"Almost there boys!" X'antia panted heavily as she struggled to pull one of the boxes back up the sandy peak. "Just a few more meters to go…" She puffed looking up at their small ship which sat proudly at the top of the peak. All they needed to do was get to the top of the hill and load the weapons up and return to the mother ship. Not that much trouble.

"You do realize Cap'tn is gunna kill us?" Grunted of the company who carried one of the large boxes on his shoulders, the aliens large hulking form allowing him to walk up the hill almost nonchalantly next to his companions.

"Yeah you wasn't supposed to be killin' the trader X'antia – that weren't orders." Groaned another member of the company; X'antia chuckled as she watched the green alien use his two spare arms to propel his box up the hill at a steady pace.

"Oh, we got the money that's all Capt'n cares about – he will be fine!" She chuckled between grunts as she continued to pull making her face go a darker purple than her usual milk lavender.

"You can explain it to 'im then." The bigger alien chuckled as he watched his teammate struggle until she was purple in the face.

"Fine, you bunch of pussies!" X'antia snapped as she pulled her box onto the top of the hill, falling down onto the sandy ground with an exasperated gasp as she looked up at the sky.

"We will just leave you to pack up Tia." One of the aliens chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the loading bay pulling off the layers that concealed his chiselled physique.

"I hate you all." X'antia breathed heavily as she closed her eyes and stretched her tired muscles earning a howl of laughter from her team as they took hold her the boxes and began to load them onto the ship.

"I really need to make lighter weapons…" She commented dryly to herself as she sat up slowly and pushed herself off the floor and went to help her team load the cargo. "Or you could try not killin' the buyers?" An alien commented with a chuckle.

"Yeah, maybe that too."

X'antia POV

Living on board the Ravenger main ship had its perks; it was a huge vessel with multiple rooms and areas which were always fun to explore. The benefit of being the only female crew member meant that I was able to turn my laboratory into a make do bedroom.

The other crew members had large mixed sleeping quarters; really it was only Yondu and a few of the higher ranking members of the crew that had their own rooms. The others made do with hammocks and bunk beds in the bigger rooms – I for one was glad that I never needed to mix in those quarters. I could deal with manly smells as good as anyone but having over sixty Ravengers sleeping in one room….that was all too much for my senses.

My 'room' was my safe space – on a ship full of rowdy men a lady needs one. I had managed to get the Captain to agree to let me convert some of my engineering lab into a bedroom. I had managed to install a pull down bed on the wall and had some thick fabric curtains which separated off my sleeping area from the working area. Not that the curtain was drawn at any point – I was always tinkering around with my toys in bed. Much to the annoyance of some of the other engineers, they couldn't understand how I could sit in bed and focus on work at the same time but it was comfortable and productive for me none the less.

As I sat on my bed tinkering away at one of my new weapons I felt my ears give a twitch, listening closer I could make out the sound of footsteps, light ones belonging to the little Terran boy walking down the hall to my laboratory.

"Hey little Terran. What's up?" I mused out loud as the footsteps stopped.

I looked up from my work to see the thirteen year old Peter Quill sulking in the doorway. His face was red and blotchy, I could tell he had been crying – he was never one to admit to crying, not aboard the ship but I had known the child since he was picked up five years ago. He had been crying, my guess was that the other crew members had been messing with him again. I sighed, looking over at the kid, I knew bullying built character and it was known that Ravengers needed thick skin but I still felt for the poor boy.

"They did it again…" Quill sniffed angrily as he gently pulled out a smashed up music player from his pocket. "Your music box?" I sighed as I stood up from my bed and made my way over to the kid who held out his cassette player for me to take.

"Damn it." I groaned as I examined the smashed up piece of machinery. Terran technology was basic at the best of times – I had offered to remake a better music player for the child but he would hear none of it. He had a strange attachment to the music player; his late mother having given it to him was my understanding of the situation. I never knew my parents so I had no such connections to another person but I could sympathize with the child who had moved over to sit in my chair by my work table.

"You can fix it can't you Tia?" The Terran boy asked with a deep breath as I looked the device over. I had repaired the cassette player a number of times before, I thought I had made it clear to the vandals that if they fucked with the music box giving me anymore hassle I would hurt them…badly.

Placing the cassette player on the worktop I nodded smiling over to Peter as I pulled out a few tools and spare parts that I would need and lined them up on the table.

"Thank you Tia…" Peter sighed, relieved that I was there to help him keep the last few traces of his mother alive.

I shooed the preteen off of my chair and began work on the small device; undoing the small broken pieces and placing them down on the side before I examined the extent of the damage.

"What does this do?"

The Terran asked as he looked around my workshop, I cast my eyes over at the teenager who had picked up one of the weapons I had been working on.

"Put it down kid." I chuckled. "That gun generates a blue flame which can scorch to the bone in ten seconds." I could feel the smile spreading across my face as the little Terran slowly placed the gun back down where it came from and backed up.

"What about this one?" He asked as he rushed over to one of the other boxes I had stored near my bed. "That is an energy dagger. Be careful with that one you could lose an arm or a leg with that!"

I laughed to myself as the boy turned to me with an open mouth. "This is one of my favourite little weapons." I said as I made my way over to Peter and took the weapon from his hand.

I examined the weapon, all it was to the naked eye was the black hilt of the dagger and I pressed a small button on its side and a glowing translucent white flame shot out from the hilt of the dagger.

"Woah! It's a lightsaber!" The teenager exclaimed in delight, I had no idea what a 'lightsaber' was referring to, tiling my head to the side I tried to image what possible reference this child was making about my weapons. I hoped it was not some kind of Terran insult…

"A what?" I asked as I cut off the power to the dagger returning it to the box making sure it was out of reach of the teenager.

"You know? Star-Wars! The Jedi – the lightsabers?" I blinked at the child in confused, I knew there were many wars in the Galaxy. My home planet had been invaded during one of the old wars. I did not see however, the relevance or link to my creations…

"Can you make me something? I am the only one on this ship without a weapon…" The teenager sighed as he sat on the end of my bed. I sighed and made my way over to my work chair and continued working on the cassette.

"Hasn't the Captain taught you to shoot yet?" I asked as I tinkered away at the device. I thought that it was common for the new recruits to be drilled in weaponry when they were taken aboard the ship.

"I have been shown a little about the weapons; all I am really good for is –"

"Getting into small spaces?" I finished with a chuckle, noting the excuse which was used nearly every other day. The only reason the Captain never delivered the kid to his father was because he fit into small areas to turn on and off switches and Terran children were notoriously quiet and hard to track even with my enhanced hearing.

"Yeah." He sighed sadly as he looked at some of my blueprint sheets lined out on my walls. I felt bad for the kid, I had to admit – I was lonely when I was brought onto this ship but it was nicer than the life I had before…I knew nothing of the life of the teenage boy. I suspected by the state the child was in when he was picked up that his life was better on Terra.

"I will make something up for you but something that will suit your size." I sighed at my own softness; I knew I would get a wrist slap from Captain about this. I should really run the idea with him first….but there is no fun in that.

"Something cool?" Peter asked jumping up from my bed and rushing over next to me making me chuckle at this enthusiasms. I couldn't fault the Terran for that.

"Yes, something very cool. Now run along, I need to get some work done; I should have this fixed by tomorrow." I chuckled as I shooed the boy off out of my workshop.

3POV

The canteen area was busy was usual, the Ravengers who were stationed aboard all sat in their groups eating their meals, with less than hospitable manners. It was something the Valkurian had become accustomed to over the last decade, it disgusted her at first but now it did not make her look twice. Between the belching, farting and general rowdiness the company wasn't bad per say – just cultured in a different way.

X'antia sat at her usual spot next to her fellow engineering buddies, as the conversation and banter flowed across the table the neon haired alien caught site of one particular crewmate – one she knew all too well was to blame for the extra workload tossed at her today.

"Did you see the tits on that Kree girl?!" The scaled aquatic alien bellowed, his voice echoing through the main canteen making the yellow haired alien grit her teeth as she slowly stood up and moved over to the loud alien.

"I would have been a happy man if I could have buried my head in –"

An eruption of gasps filled the hall as X'antia walk up behind the alien and took a firm grasp on his three testicles through his trousers making the larger alien emote a noise that could only be described as a plea for help.

"Alright Scales, listen here!" X'antia snapped as she tightened her grip on the large aliens privates making him whimper. "You want to teach the kid how to harden up – I get it –but I have fixed that damn music box of his three times since he came on board. " She shouted as she tugged downwards causing the rest of the room to gasp in empathy – a couple of crewmembers cupped their own privates in empathy for their fellow crewmate.

"I have shit I need to do. I have weapons I need to sell. I can't be fixin' that box all the time. Ya' here!?" X'antia shouted as she shoved the alien back into the table releasing his testicles in the process.

"I thought that was the reason you were 'ere woman?" The scaled man spat back at X'antia as he regained his composure, standing up towering over the smaller alien. His large grey hulking form intimidating to the other members of the crew; Scales was a bully – it was known on the ship – he was only good for the sheer force the shark-like alien brought to the party.

"No wait, I remember you are here as the captain's live in whore." He chuckled darkly as he grabbed hold of the younger aliens shoulder and shoved her into one of the tables with a loud crash as she toppled backwards over the table onto her feet.

"You take that back!" The young Terran shouted from the food cue, slamming his tray of food down onto the side he ran over to the fight and tried to grab hold of the shark creatures arm but was swatted away into the far wall.

"Fuck off you little imp!" Scales shouted as Peter stood up from the floor wiping his bloodied cheek, looking over he watched as the alien grabbed a hold of X'antia and slapped her across the face much to the horror of some of the crew and the joy of the others.

Turning on his heel Peter Quill ran out of the canteen and through the main rooms of the ship up to the Captain's office. He knew better than to burst in unannounced but this was an emergency with a gulp the teenager pushed into the office with a crash.

"Captain!" Quill exclaimed out of breath, grasping onto the nearest table to catch himself. Yondu stood in his office facing a collection of holographic screen which displayed the shadowed faces of two men.

"Get out of here boy!" Yondu shouted at the teenager before turning back to the screen to continue the meetings. "We gon' bring ya the stuff by the end of the week." The Captain said gruffly, trying to ignore the panting teenager behind him.

"Captain!" Quill shouted again trying to get the Captain's attention much to the latter's irritation. He was not a fan of being interrupted during a deal he was slaving over.

"Get outta 'ere I am busy boy!" Yondu exclaimed as he threw a book at the teenager who managed to dodge the projectile with a gasp.

"You got my money?" Yondu snapped at the screen as he turned away from the boy, the shadowed figure nodded slowly before his distorted voice came over the monitor. "Deliver the cargo and you shall have your money Ravenger." With that the screens cut off and the meeting was over.

Yondu let out a grunt as he turned around to Quill with a face like thunder. The kid new better than to disrupt a meeting with a punter. "Boy, this better be worth ma' time! Interrupting me during a deal, you know better than tha'!" He exclaimed as he leaned onto his desk crossing his arms.

"There is a fight!" Yondu raised a brow, there were always fights on the ship – they were Ravengers, they were not known for the sunny dispositions not their manners or etiquette.

"There is always a fight boy. We're Ravengers!" Yondu exclaimed tired of the commotion the teenager was causing.

"But Tia is fighting Scales!" Quill exclaimed, expecting some reaction from the Captain but none came. The blue alien sat down in his chair and picked up one of his small figurines from his control console and looked it over.

"That ain't my concern boy. Girl shouldn't be causing fights with bigger folks." Yondu said without looking up from his figurine, he waited a moment for a reaction from the Terran but none came the room was quickly vacated and the door slammed on the Captain who let out a groan and cracked his neck, spinning his chair around and brining up footage of the canteen on one of his screens.

Yondu watched the fight over his monitor and couldn't help but route for the female alien. He had taken a liking to the girl, not that he would ever admit it to himself or his crew. The former sex slave had managed to carve her way into the depths of the Ravenger's mind. Yondu took no interest in her when she was a child but as she grew it was harder and harder for the Captain to not pay attention to her feminine form.

He let her get away with more than he should, he knew that – but he also knew that the young alien would never see him as anything more than the old Ravenger that bought her for a price from her former master. He wasn't the type to settle for one dish anyway – he enjoyed dipping his fingers into all of the dishes the galaxy had to offer. No, he could never settle for just one dish – he let out a groan as he shook his thoughts from his head and watched the screen in front of him letting out a howl of laughter as he caught sight of the position the two aliens were in.

"You fucking bitch!" Scales exclaimed as he lay face down on the floor with X'antia on his back, legs wrapped around his head chocking him, whilst her whip tied his arms and legs in place. A group of Ravengers had circled the two cheering for their respective team.

"Apologize to me before I turn you into an entrée." X'antia hissed as she tightened the grip on the shark's neck.

"Valkurian whore!" Spat Scales as he tried to wriggle free but to no use, the bonds grew tighter and the Valkurian's legs wrapped tighter around the aliens airways making him choke.

"Apologize, Scales." X'antia said as she tightened the grip making other Ravengers wince a little.

"I ain't apologizing too no slave whore!" Scales gasped as much as he could, making the yellow haired alien chuckle.

"3…2…."

"Alright X'antia he is sorry just him go." One of the other Ravengers exclaimed as they watched their friend choke slowly beneath the female. "Are you going to break it again?" X'antia snapped as she tightened her grip pressing down on the gills of the alien.

"No…" Scales gasped as he tried to gain some air into his lungs to no avail. "I can't hear you…" X'antia sang as she looked over to her friends with a smile. "No, I won't!" Scales exclaimed.

"Promise?" X'antia chuckled knowing she had gone too far she let up some pressure on the sharks gills letting him breathe. "I promise." He growled as he took in as much air as he could. X'antia quickly jumped off of the alien and landed next to him brushing herself down.

"Good now fuck off!"

Yondu couldn't help but laugh as he watched the large hulking alien leave the room – clearly shamed by the public display. Yondu knew that Scales was one hell of a sack of muscle, that was the main reason he kept him in the crew, he was pure brute force and intimidation which was good during certain dealings.

However, Yondu had also watched X'antia over the last decade, she was street smart when she came to the crew as a teenager – as she grew she trained alongside the others and she learned her own style of combat. Yondu had seen it in action – she was smaller than the other crew members, she was more agile and faster – this would often beat over sheer force. Her agility and frame combined with her energy whip made her quite a little firecracker.

Looking back at the screen Yondu raised a brow with a smile, young Quill was making his way down the corridor to the canteen with one of X'antia's guns.

"X'antia I am here to help you!" Quill exclaimed as he ran into the canteen pointing the gun at the group of Ravengers making them step back a little. X'antia let out a roar of laughter as did a number of other Ravengers all clocking onto the big problem which the young Terran had not noticed.

"You're laughing at me? I came to save you and you're laughing at me…." Quill exclaimed in despair.

"That works better when you have the ammo clip in." X'antia laughed as she made her way over to the teen and took the gun off of him and placed it over her shoulder with a smile bending down to kiss the teenage boy on the head in thanks. Quill let out a mock disgust noise as he wiped his head and then sat down to finish his meal.

"Thanks Little Terran."

[barbosaasouza]

Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Review: Sailing Into Superiority

The first Pillars elevated Obsidian, a developer with understood pedigree, to an even higher-echelon with a classic-style RPG experience that established an exciting world. The game hooked players with gameplay and writing that stayed true to the clear tabletop RPG and Infinity engine RPG influences and Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire is an attempt to expand upon these influences.

Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire executes on every level and brings those influences even closer to home with the naval combat mechanic. It polishes an already great foundation and, as I mentioned in my hands-on impression, establishes a quality series with an incredible sequel. [SPOILER ALERT] There may be light spoilers in the text or images in this review.

Writing, Sound Design, & Graphics

The first Pillars has incredible writing, but was a chore at times trying to get through it all. There were voiced elements scattered about, but Deadfire improves in that department with fully voiced dialog top to bottom. Having that volume of content is a feat and the performances are top-notch as well.

There weren’t many times that I wanted to skip a conversation because of an annoying voice or one that broke the immersion, so cheers to that. Often, I wanted more. For instance, some of the major narration is voiced in Deadfire. It’s so well done, that it’s disappointing that not every bit of narration is voiced by this voice actor.. There were also a couple of strange, isolated moments where voice dialog was absent, but I feel it was an error with queuing up versus not having any at all.

As far as music, somehow the composer for Pillars of Eternity 2 found a way to make things even better than before. There’s more diversity in the combat music, which got repetitive in the first game.

There’s no drastic change in graphics when it comes to Pillars 2 environments over the original game, but the design is a lot more vibrant. This is partly due to the focus on water in the sequel but largely due to the presence of more moving parts on the screen. The environments are accented by more diverse animations for NPCs, who more realistically go about their days in Deadfire. The areas feel more “alive” because of this and the new dynamic weather adds to this sense of immersion.

Where there is a significant leap in visuals, though, is the magic and weapon effects. The smoke from the fire and impact of a blunderbuss is impressive and a constant barrage of these impressive effects only resulted in a few hiccups. The most annoying issues involve transforming characters or enemies, and hopefully, this will be addressed quickly by the devs.

Combat & Exploration

Combat is much more manageable and flexible in Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire for a couple reasons. First, party size has been reduced from six to five. This let me focus my party member’s roles more without concerns for overlap and made an already hectic battlefield more manageable. The improved AI customization helped with this as well, giving individual characters plenty contextual moves to make if I got distracted focusing on another conflict. It’s a deep tool for the hardcore and intrigued, but more than serviceable enough for those not interesting in tinkering in that fashion.

Dungeon exploration already featured some stealth elements and traps in the original, but that is improved with new tools to distract enemies of items in the battlefield you can use to even the odds. I’ve used a sound to get enemies to huddle near a barrel of gunpowder, for instance, and then blew them all to bits. The game isn’t as flexible in this sense as Divinity: Original Sin or its sequel, but the options I had made the dungeon crawl more exciting.

With the game spread across a gigantic body of water with many charted and uncharted islands, it’s safe to say the sequel is a great deal bigger than its predecessor. With this larger playground comes additional depth of content. There a plenty of off-path places to explore, like dangerous ruined temples on uncharted islands and scattered caves. There’s an understood path to follow in the form of a giant statue’s wake as he strolls across the land, but I was able to take my ship to whatever place I wished at the start of the game. If you play on a difficulty that scales based on your party, you can explore to your heart's content. If it doesn’t scale, you must tread carefully, or you’ll end up in very dangerous territory.

One inconsistency on the difficulty scaling lies with the ship combat. While fighting on the ground, I always felt like I had a chance and the enemies were scaled to my party level. On the sea, I regularly ran into ships that vastly overpowered me. If not for the surrender option, this imbalance would have been more devastating to my playthrough.

Naval Combat

Ship combat is a major addition to the sequel and, despite the fact that’s it’s relegated to a parchment paper-like text adventure like the game’s skill-check events, it’s very engaging. The strategic layer of getting into the correct range to attack and defend against enemy ships is improved by quality sound design. While I only see static art to represent the battle itself, the sound effects bring those images to life in my mind. With this series being heavily inspired by tabletop RPGs, this mode’s design makes it feel like the middle ground between that and a video game.

Unfortunately, the ship combat’s immersion is broken when you decide to ram and/or board. If boarding is the first move, there are no problems. If you engage in ship-to-ship combat a bit before boarding, the damage inflicted up until then isn’t reflected. The hull and sail damage wasn’t a concern for me, but I can do direct damage to crew with my canons and I hoped to see that reflected when I boarded.

The original Pillars of Eternity is a tough act to follow, but Obsidian has knocked it out of the park once again. In addition to a layer of polish that permeates across the entire experience, the new naval aspect, larger world, advanced custom combat AI, and fully voiced dialog make this a must-have sequel. There are hitches here and there in the performance, like a regular stutter every time my Druid shifted into her spirit form, but those hiccups don’t come close to breaking the experience and are certainly things that can be fixed in future patches.

If you're ready to leap into the world of Eora again, be sure to bookmark out Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire guide and walkthrough and check back for regular updates.

This review is based on a PC digital code provided by the publisher. Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire is available now on Steam and GOG.

Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire Review: Sailing Into Superiority published first on https://superworldrom.tumblr.com/

[itsiotrecords-blog]

http://ift.tt/2sU8hbV

When Robert Oppenheimer witnessed the world’s first nuclear explosion, he uttered the now infamous words, “Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” The weapon he had helped to devise would be deployed against Japan in 1945, playing a major part in bringing World War II to a close but at a terrible cost. As war gave way to an uneasy peace, the rest of the world’s powers scrambled to develop atomic weapons of their own. The nuclear arms race had begun.

#1 The Connection between Godzilla, the Bikini Bathing Suit, and Nuclear Bombs The Bikini Islands in the Pacific Ocean were favoured by the United States to try out their latest nuclear toys, and between 1946 and 1958, 23 nuclear devices were tested there. Most explosive of all was a hydrogen bomb detonated in 1954, which came very close to achieving 1,000 times as much explosive force as the bomb which had been dropped on Hiroshima. This turned out to be a problem, as it was twice as powerful as had been predicted. The bomb vaporised part of the island, left a mile-wide crater in the lagoon floor, and the radiation contaminated 23 crewmembers of a Japanese fishing vessel which had been fishing outside of the expected danger area. The resulting scandal inspired the film Godzilla, featuring a gigantic violent sea monster awoken by a nuclear explosion. As well as providing inspiration for giant atomic monsters, the nuclear tests at Bikini Atoll also left their mark on the world of fashion. When Louis Reard came to look for a name for the two-piece bathing suit he had designed he decided to call it the bikini simply because people would recognise and remember the name.

#2 Project A119 The launch of Sputnik in 1957 had American military chiefs worried. The Soviet satellite didn’t do a great deal, it just orbited the Earth every 98 minutes while emitting a beep audible to anyone with the equipment to pick it up. However, it was a symbol that the Soviets were technologically advanced and winning the space race. The U.S. hatched an ambitious plan intended to demonstrate their own military might. They would detonate a nuclear bomb on the moon. The secret project went by two names, the somewhat euphemistic “A Study of Lunar Research Flights,” and the more mysterious “Project A119.” Many of the documents around the project are still classified so we can’t be sure exactly why the project was abandoned, we can only be grateful that it was.

#3 Testing a Hydrogen Bomb in Space In 1962, having given up on trying to blow up the moon, American scientists wanted to see what would happen if a nuclear bomb was exploded in space. In an operation codenamed Operation Starfish Prime, a powerful hydrogen bomb was launched in the nose of a Thor rocket to detonate some 250 miles above the Pacific Ocean. The test wasn’t without its controversy and brought forth protests across the globe. However, The Honolulu Advertiser was rather more upbeat with its cheerful headline “Nuclear Blast Tonight May be Dazzling; Good View Likely.” The device detonated in space at 11pm Honolulu time, on July 9th. Once again the explosion turned out to be more powerful than had been expected. The night sky was lit up by the blast and glowed in blue, red and green. An electromagnetic pulse knocked out electrical services up to 1500 kilometres away, disrupted telephone service, set off burglar alarms, and damaged satellites. Later in the same year, the Soviet Union detonated their own nuclear device in space. Further high-altitude detonations were temporarily banned after America and the Soviet Union both signed the Limited Nuclear Test Ban Treaty in 1963.

#4 The Biggest Bomb of all The most powerful nuclear device ever constructed was detonated in the Arctic by the Soviet Union on October 30th, 1961. The bomb, which was known as “The Tsar Bomb,” weighed in at a whopping 27 tonnes and required a specially modified Soviet heavy bomber to carry it. Not only that, but the bomb had to be carried to the ground by a parachute, to allow the aircraft to escape the very considerable blast zone. It wasn’t the most practical of weapons, but it allowed the Soviets to send a message about how good they’d gotten to be at making really big explosions. When the bomb detonated, it was with the force of 50 million tonnes of high explosive. That’s something in the region of 3800 times more powerful than the bomb used against Hiroshima. So powerful was the blast, that windows were broken in Finland, some 900 kilometres away, and the shockwave travelled around the Earth three times. Astonishingly, the bomb had the potential to deliver a blast twice as powerful but it had to be scaled back or the aircraft which dropped it would have been consumed by the explosion. Blowing up their own pilots was something that even the Soviet Union balked at.

#5 Not all Nuclear Bombs are designed to go off with a Big Bang All nuclear weapons are scary but the neutron bomb is possibly the most terrifying of them all. Unlike most bombs, it’s not designed to cause a huge explosion. In fact, it was specifically designed to create as small of a blast as possible. Instead of a fiery explosion, the neutron bomb is intended to spew out vast amounts of radiation killing anybody unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity whilst leaving buildings and infrastructure intact. The neutron bomb was developed by the United States in the 1970s, but more recently the Chinese government announced they also have the technology to build the weapon. As far as we know, it has never been used in combat, however, Saif Eddin, a former commander in Sadaam Hussain’s Iraqi army, claims the United States deployed the weapon against the elite Republican Guard in Baghdad.

#6 Civilian uses for Nuclear Bombs We tend to think of nuclear bombs as a weapon of war. However, during the Cold War, both the US and the Soviet Union looked at ways they could put part of their nuclear arsenal to civilian use. The US project, founded in 1961, was known as Operation Plowshare and one of its keenest advocates was Dr Edward Teller, also known as the father of the hydrogen bomb. Teller had noticed that nuclear bombs were really rather good at making enormous holes. With that in mind he came up with a whole host of proposals which we should be glad never made it off the drawing board. For instance, Teller thought the Panama Canal to be rather too small, and that the US could really do with another route connecting the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean. Exploding a few hundred strategically placed nuclear bombs would cut out a second canal in no time at all. Other suggestions, for what Teller proposed to term geographical engineering, were to blast away land to create harbours and underground explosions to create caverns in which to store drinking water. Although the damaging effects of radiation were well known by this time, they seem to have been conveniently ignored.

#7 American Missiles were prevented from Launching by a Laughably Poor Security Code In 1962 the American government took the wise decision that it might be a nice idea to add an extra layer of security to prevent an accidental nuclear apocalypse. Every missile was supposed to be fitted with a Permissive Action Link (PAL), which prevented the missile from being fired without the correct 8 digit code. The system was designed to be almost impregnable, with one weapons designer describing it as being so complex to bypass it would be like “performing a tonsillectomy whilst entering the patient from the wrong end.” With the system in place, the only thing left was to choose a code which nobody could possibly guess, so the finest strategic minds in the country settled on 00000000. Just in case anybody did somehow manage to forget, the code was handed out on a checklist to the launch crews.

#8 One Man Prevented a Nuclear War – and Gained a Vacuum Cleaner Not many people know the name Stanislov Petrov, yet on 26th September, 1983, he held the fate of the world in his hands. A lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Union’s Strategic Rocket Forces, Petrov wasn’t even supposed to be at work that night, but he was filling in for a colleague who had called in sick. Cold War tensions were running high. President Ronald Reagan had recently described the Soviet Union as an “evil empire,” NATO was conducting military manoeuvres in Europe, and three weeks earlier the USSR had shot down a South Korean airliner  which they claimed had invaded their airspace on a spying mission. Petrov would have known all of this when the information on his screen told him that five US intercontinental ballistic missiles, each more than 100 times as powerful as the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, were headed towards the Soviet Union. Petrov picked up the phone to the Kremlin knowing that his advice would determine whether the Soviet Union launched a counterstrike. He told them it was a mistake. The system, known as Oko, had only come on stream the previous year and Petrov trusted his gut rather than the machines. Fortunately for the world, his guts were right. In 2004, Petrov was gifted a World Citizen Award and a cheque for $1,000. He gave most of the money to his grandchildren. With the rest he bought himself something he had always wanted – a vacuum cleaner.

#9 The Bombs of Today are Way More Powerful than those used in World War II The bombs which were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki were horrifying weapons which brought terrible destruction to the people of Japan. However, they were little more than ambitious fireworks compared to the devices which are available to the nuclear powers of the world today. The yield of a nuclear device is measured in kilotons or megatons. Little Boy, the bomb which was dropped on Hiroshima, was a 16 kiloton weapon, which means it exploded with the force of 16 thousand tonnes of high explosives. Nowadays weapons like that are considered to be tactical nuclear weapons designed for use against armies on the battlefield. Strategic nuclear weapons, which are the type which will start hitting us in the face if a full-scale nuclear war ever breaks out, are measured in millions of tonnes of high explosive. In other words, they have an explosive yield of a thousand or more times greater than the bombs used against Japan in World War II.

#10 Nuclear War may be Inevitable So far we have been lucky. Despite several close calls and some careless blunders, only two of the thousands of nuclear weapons which have been constructed have ever been used in anger. However, we shouldn’t kid ourselves that the end of the Cold War has made the threat of nuclear war an irrelevance. In many ways, things are more dangerous than ever. There are two nuclear powers in India and Pakistan who refuse to play nicely with each other, a newly armed and unpredictable North Korean regime, and a belligerent Russia keen to reassert its power. According to some analysts, a nuclear war be inevitable. Even if the risk is only 0.5% per year that would mean a 5% chance of a nuclear war every decade. Given enough time even a small possibility becomes a certainty. The only way to prevent it would be worldwide disarmament, something which is very hard to foresee happening any time soon.

Source: TopTenz