#they also both have triangular things for head/helmets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

themurphyzone · 4 years ago

Text

PatB Oneshot: A Whole New Life for You and Me

For the air mice nyoom’s server Secret Santa for @deez-art! Decided to gift them a fic for the wonderful Brainladdin AU cause it’s so pure and I live for found family. I decided to go with the happy ending for the movie, cause Genie’s reaction upon being freed melts me every time.

@nuttersincorporated came up with the fun idea of Wakko calling Brainladdin ‘Dad’ and Brainladdin denying it every time. I thought it was cute XD

Summary: The evil Snowballjafar has been defeated, but there's still some loose ends that need to be wrapped up. And really, there are way too many emotions going on here for Brainladdin's comfort.

AO3 Link (No FFN post cause AO3 has easier x-over system).

No power, however grandiose and terrifying, could go unchecked by the laws of the universe. Snowballjafar had forgotten there were unseen forces far greater than himself, even with phenomenal cosmic power at his fingertips.

The price to pay? Itty bitty living space inside a cramped magical lamp.

Brainladdin stared down at the black lamp that now contained his former friend turned enemy. While part of him would always remember Snowballjafar as a fellow young orphan on the streets, he also knew that this fate was karma for all of the hamster’s cruelty.

Jaspinky wouldn’t be forced into a union he didn’t want. Yakko wouldn’t be forced to hurt the people he’d come to regard as his younger siblings. Wakko and Dot wouldn’t be forced to live in an ACMEbah under Snowballjafar’s iron command.

ACMEbah was restored. Everyone was safe.

Brainladdin gave the lamp to Yakko, now back to his normal self, or as normal as could be for a wisecracking genie with a penchant for cartoonish humor.

“Allow me,” Yakko said, winking at Wakko and Dot as he zipped towards the palace balcony that overlooked the city. The kids eagerly scrambled over to the balcony to watch the proceedings.

In a flash of light, Yakko now wore a backwards blue cap, Wakko sported some strange armor that covered his chest and face, and Dot had a pink helmet with her trademark yellow flower painted on the side. Wakko and Dot grinned up at Yakko with adoring expressions, hanging off the balcony a little too eagerly for Brainladdin’s peace of mind.

“Wakko! Get off that railing at once!” Brainladdin shouted.

“Yes, Pops,” Wakko said in the universal ‘exasperated teen’ tone, which Brain suspected he’d picked up from Yakko. But Wakko planted his two feet on safe ground anyway, settling for standing on his tiptoes instead.

“I’m not—oh forget it,” Brainladdin sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he’d rather just take the defeat now instead of prolonging it.

Jaspinky giggled, his jewelry swaying gently with every movement. His blue eyes sparkled once again, a much welcomed change from the abject terror he had experienced while drowning in the sand-filled hourglass. And really, he looked much better in blue and gold than seductive red.

It was an objective fact.

Yakko held the lamp in his left arm, then wound it so fast that it resembled a blue whirlwind. “This is it, folks! The real teeth-clenching, nailbiting, game-winning swing of whatever century we’re in!”

Another magical burst, and Brainladdin found himself holding a tiny triangular flag emblazoned with Dot’s flower. Jaspinky screamed in glee, waving a giant pointing foam finger that now covered his right hand. Brainladdin rolled his eyes, but held the flag as high as he could in a silent show of support.

Dot readied her large mallet as Wakko crouched behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his hand. Yakko zipped to the other side of the balcony, then hurled the lamp towards Dot with all his might.

THWACK!

Dot’s mallet connected with the lamp and sent it soaring high into the blue sky and far beyond the walls of ACMEbah, straight into the heart of the vast desert.

“THAT’S FOR JASPINKY, MY BROTHERS, AND BRAINLADDIN CAUSE I FEEL LIKE BEING GENEROUS, YOU STUPID HAMSTER!” Dot screamed as she dashed around the balcony at high speeds, high-fiving Jaspinky’s foam finger as she passed him.

“And it’s outta here, thanks to my new sister sib! What a swing!” Yakko ruffled Dot’s hair as she threw herself at Wakko, knocking him down from his crouched position. The two laughed and embraced, laughing in joy and relief that their ordeal was really over. The duo began an odd victory dance that involved a lot of stomping both of them and rude hand gestures to the horizon on Dot’s part. “He’s looking at uhhhhhhhh…about a ten thousand year sentence in the Cave of Wonders. Without parole or bail, unless some poor shmuck decides to release him in a cashgrab sequel. But that’s a problem for another time.”

Brainladdin allowed himself a tiny smile. And Jaspinky smiled that bright, silly smile that always seemed to make Brainladdin’s chest flutter swiftly and strange, but not in a wholly unpleasant way either.

To think this entire business had started out as a way to ascend to the throne of ACMEbah. Leave poverty behind him. Get Wakko some actual food and not worry about amputated limbs courtesy of angry shopkeepers.

He hadn’t counted on falling head over heels for Jaspinky’s gentle spirit. Who wanted to marry for love and not for power or fame or wealth. Nor had he counted on striking up a genuine friendship with a powerful magical being, who had wishes of his own yet was bound to the desires of his master.

Wakko lived by the rules of the street rat like Brainladdin, but he’d found a kinship with others willing to show him the affection Brainladdin couldn’t offer him.

Dot could finally be a child, a rather clever and self-sufficient one, and now she had brothers who would watch her back from this point on.

And Brainladdin found himself back to square one. There were other methods to take over ACMEbah, but he couldn’t continue perpetrating this lie.

Jaspinky deserved someone better than him. Wakko should be taken care of by people who would provide for every physical need and show him the love he deserved. He didn’t get along with Dot, but she was protective of Jaspinky, and it was by far her most admirable trait.

Most importantly, this quest would’ve been doomed to fail from the beginning if it hadn’t been for Yakko, who supported the endeavor in his snarky, playful way, entertained with his magic, and didn’t seem to begrudge Brainladdin for not keeping his promise when he’d been blinded by power.

Really, Yakko never should’ve been locked away from the world, only to come out when someone wanted to use him.

“Pondering again, Brainladdin?” Jaspinky asked. He took off the foam finger and set it down gently, then carefully pried the flag out of Brainladdin’s hands. His fingers were warm and gentle, much like how they’d held hands on that whimsical carpet ride just a few starlit nights ago.

“Yes,” Brainladdin said softly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then took Jaspinky’s hands in his and tried not to think about how this would be the last time he might ever see him. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about being a prince.”

Jaspinky teared up, his impossibly blue eyes reflecting the sky above. “It’s okay. I know why you did,” he whispered, like the lie was easy to forgive, just like that.

A street rat couldn’t hope to change a centuries-old law. Street rats had no power, no connections, no respect. And the Sultan-CEO wouldn’t approve of any match but the ones she selected for Jaspinky, regardless of his wishes.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Brainladdin squeezed Jaspinky’s hands, just to prolong releasing his hands for a little longer.

“It’s not fair,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I love you.”

Brainladdin had seen those words float around in every step, every touch, every look from Jaspinky. But to hear it spoken out loud…

Well, it seemed he would be yearning for much more than power once he returned to the street.

A few teardrops splashed down from above. Yakko sniffed into a handkerchief, and Wakko and Dot stopped dancing, the reality of the situation sinking in, judging from their crestfallen expressions.

“Sorry. Never been this invested in a love story before,” Yakko said, poofing the handkerchief away as he drifted down next to Brainladdin. “But ya still got one wish left. Might as well use it. Just say the word and it’s riches, elephants, an entourage, and the whole prince shebang.”

Even after I went back on my promise to set you free? Brainladdin wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. You still want to offer me a chance to be with Jaspinky?

“Eh, what’s an eternity of servitude to love?” Yakko stretched casually, as if he could read Brainladdin’s thoughts. He bumped noses with Jaspinky, who smiled despite his tears. “You only come across someone like Jaspinky…well, never actually. Then again, trying to score a date can be pretty hard when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Brainladdin cupped Jaspinky’s cheek in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t feel his warm, luxurious fur ever again.

“Jaspinky…while I-I reciprocate your affections, I can’t fabricate an entire persona to make you…you know.” Brainladdin looked down, unable to meet Jaspinky’s tearful gaze.

“Um…” Jaspinky just sounded confused.

“He stinks at admitting he loves you even though it’s completely obvious cause he actually wants you to be happy unlike all those other rotten, no-good, stuck-up jerkwad princes!” Dot shouted.

He could’ve done without the insult, but he nodded his thanks to Dot for the translation to Jaspinky terms.

“I understand, Brainladdin,” Jaspinky murmured. He kissed the back of Brainladdin’s hand, soft lips pressing against the calloused skin. Brainladdin allowed a moment for the kiss to settle, then pulled away to take care of one last piece of business.

“Yakko, I wish for your freedom,” Brainladdin declared.

This was his chance to set things right. So that Yakko would have his freedom, never be forced to serve a cruel master again, and fully become the loving, questionably responsible brother he was meant to be.

“Right away! Vipers, monkeys, gold, coming right-” Yakko said, dusting off his gloves and cracking his knuckles. He raised his arms, then paused in surprise, the final wish not quite registering yet. “-wait, what?”

Brainladdin held the lamp up to Yakko. The forever-teenager’s powers would be his own, never subject to anyone’s whims again.

“Yakko, you’re free.”

Blue smoke poured out of the lamp as it rose out of Brainladdin’s hands, swirling around Yakko’s body as he looked on, completely speechless for probably the first time in millennia. His eyebrows drew up in shock, his arms making odd, meaningless motions as if he didn’t know what to do with his own body. Bolts of cosmic, ancient magic weaved around Yakko in indescribable colors, sparking clouds of massive energy that had never been witnessed before or ever again.

Jaspinky rested his jaw on top of Brainladdin’s head, not caring if he squished his fez. Wakko’s tongue lolled out happily, and Dot bounced up and down in sheer amazement before catching herself and settling for a joyful grin. Together they watched the golden shackles around Yakko’s wrists break and vanish into a cloud of magical sparkles.

Yakko stared at his own bare wrists, rubbing them and feeling the fur beneath his bonds, probably for the first time in his long life. He turned them in every possible direction, his mouth making movements that were heavily reminiscent of a fish out of water.

“I’m free?” Yakko asked in disbelief. He gingerly picked up his lamp by the handle, tapping it a few times in case it had any power left. But the lamp had lost its golden sheen, its exterior now a dull brown. Yakko’s chest heaved up and down rapidly. “I’m free.”

His voice was tiny, not at all full of confidence and bravado as Brainladdin had admittedly grown fond of throughout this whole ordeal.

Then he cleared his throat, thrusting the depowered lamp into Brainladdin’s arms and startling Jaspinky enough that his arms slipped off Brainladdin’s head. Jaspinky laughed it off, and Brainladdin nudged him with his foot.

“Quick! Wish for something outrageous! Wish for denial!” Yakko begged as he covered his eyes, turning away from Brainladdin. “That’s it! Denial!”

Brainladdin shrugged, but obliged anyway. “I wish for denial?”

“Psych! Like you really need me for something you’ve already got!” Yakko shouted in Brainladdin’s face, giggling uncontrollably.

Brainladdin sighed and pushed Yakko’s face away from his, but Yakko’s glee was absolutely infectious, and even he couldn’t help but smile as Yakko bounced off pillars and roofs and the ground below, reveling in his newfound freedom. Whatever Yakko planned to do, Brainladdin had no doubts that the genie would use his liberation from the lamp well.

“I’mfreeI’mfreeI’mfree—I’M FREE!” Yakko chanted the mantra over and over. He lifted Wakko and Dot onto his shoulders and nuzzled their noses, and they returned the gesture with huge smiles. Wakko leaned a little too far over for comfort as the trio celebrated in midair, but it seemed that Yakko’s magic allowed him to stay on without worrying about the laws of physics.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world! You know how boring lamp interiors are? It’s good that you don’t, cause you’ll be bored if I answered that!” Yakko exclaimed as he conjured a long, blue slide that allowed Wakko and Dot to safely return to the balcony in style. Then he broke out an enormous suitcase, packing clothes, toys, and other items with a ridiculous amount of arms.

So Yakko planned to leave too. But Brainladdin tried to hang onto the joy of Yakko’s freedom for a little longer, trying not to linger on how his life always consisted of saying goodbye to anyone he met that he’d grown to…tolerate.

“Well, off to see the sights! Tahiti, China, the Galapagos, Pennsylvania, Switzer-“

Yakko paused and looked down, a bag of apples in one hand and a potted cactus in another. His mouth opened in surprise. He was watching Brainladdin.

Then Brainladdin’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, and his fingers came away damp. No one else had commented yet, though Jaspinky’s hand was on the small of his back, but Brainladdin said nothing. Best to ingrain the memory of Jaspinky’s soft touch in his mind while he had the chance.

Yakko wiped away a few tears of his own, his form shrinking until he was just a head taller than Wakko.

“Poit. I’ll let you have a moment,” Jaspinky whispered. Brainladdin only registered his words just as the gentle pressure vanished from his back. Dot knelt, taking Jaspinky in her cupped hands. She was silent, only giving Yakko an odd look before retreating into the palace for her own private conversation with the princess, leaving Wakko and Brainladdin alone with Yakko.

A case of déjà vu swept through Brainladdin. He and Wakko alone in the Cave of Wonders. Wakko bouncing along to a bombastic musical number, where he could have a fun childhood experience that ACMEbah refused to grant. Yakko’s excitement over simply talking to living beings.

At first, Yakko was just a means to an end. He was powerful, and it wasn’t difficult to work within the boundaries of his genie limitations. Maybe he could’ve took things more seriously, maybe he could’ve stopped jabbering for just a few seconds so Brainladdin could get a word or two in. Although Yakko had been trapped within a role, he still made everyone smile, he was protective, and he was kind.

“Hey.” Yakko tapped Brainladdin’s forehead. “You really oughta stop that brooding habit of yours.”

“I don’t brood. I ponder,” Brainladdin shot back, ridding himself of the watery veil in his eyes. Yakko provided him with a handkerchief, and Brainladdin blew his nose. The item poofed away. “Thanks, Yakko. For everything, and not just for convenient items you can create without obeying the laws of physics and other scientific fields.”

“Are you really gonna see the world?” Wakko asked, his eyes shining with wonder.

Wakko had expressed a desire to see the world many times before, but only so he could earn enough money to help Brainladdin put bread on the table. One of Brainladdin’s regrets about this elaborate plan falling through, really. Nobody, especially a child, should ever have to worry about rationing one loaf of bread and an apple to last a week.

Here was a prime opportunity for Wakko to experience the world without financial woes dragging him down from truly enjoying it, since Yakko could just create money and food as needed and serve as a somewhat responsible guardian for him.

Brainladdin didn’t ask though, but only because he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Wakko would never follow his own dream if he was constantly worried for Brainladdin, and it didn’t feel quite right to request something of Yakko so soon after his new freedom.

Yakko nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “Well, more than what I’m seeing right now, anyway. And really, it’s no problem-o. At least you guys aren’t boring. Can’t say the same about all the other masters I’ve had.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Wakko admitted. He held up his arms, and Yakko scooped him up in an enormous hug. Wakko flopped like a sack of potatoes, nuzzling into Yakko’s fur.

“Heh, you too, kid,” Yakko murmured. “Boy, have you been filling up on the palace’s sweetcakes or something since we started this whole thing?”

It wasn’t healthy sustenance by any means, but if Wakko was truly putting on weight, then Brainladdin saw no reason to complain.

Yakko shifted his brother so that he was secure in one arm, then set his other hand on the ground next to Brainladdin, who stepped into the offered palm. Yakko set Brainladdin on his shoulder, a gentle brush of magic preventing any accidental falls.

“Yakko…” Brainladdin could barely look him in the eye. “Though your antics could be somewhat over the top, you go about them with a certain degree of charm. And I suppose…I’ll miss you as well.”

“Awww, only somewhat over the top? Looks like I gotta up my game.” Yakko cracked a grin. Then he pushed his nose against Brainladdin’s, and while it was an odd feeling to be nuzzled on the nose, he didn’t push Yakko away either.

Wakko made an angry noise in the back of his throat.

Brainladdin shrugged. His dignity had been torn to shreds anyway. “I can learn to tolerate one more.”

And Wakko immediately closed the distance, his knee digging into Yakko’s smoky tail and somehow making him go ‘oomph’ even though there shouldn’t have been anything with substance there. Wakko’s nuzzle was somewhat rougher than Yakko’s, but it wasn’t anything Brainladdin couldn’t handle.

And this was long overdue, Brainladdin thought as he patted Wakko’s cheek. Had he ever done this while Wakko was awake and conscious to feel it? He wasn’t sure, but as Jaspinky taught him…it wasn’t too late to start.

“Who cares what anyone says? You guys are always gonna be royalty to me,” Yakko declared.

Wakko closed his eyes and almost melted right there, and Yakko had to set him down carefully since the kid’s body composition seemed to be made out of shifting sand with all the physical contact. Brainladdin carefully climbed down Yakko’s arm and tried not to tear up again at his words.

Just as Brainladdin’s feet touched the ground, there was a furious scream from the door on the far side of the room.

“The Sultan-CEO is just…AHHHHHHH!” Dot shouted as she stomped across the tiled floor and slumped against the balcony railing, her head smacking against the metal bars. Her brothers threw their arms around her instantly, and her ire diminished, though she was still wracked with tension.

Jaspinky trailed behind her, his shoulders and tail drooping, the golden band around his tail making sad tap-tap-tap noises.

Shoot. He was still crying.

“I’m sorry, Brainladdin.” Jaspinky twisted his tail between his hands. “Sultan-CEO-Mom’s still awfully mad. Some dictator from the kingdom of Dunlikus was supposed to meet with her but got caught in a whirlywind from Snowballjafar’s evil magic. She wouldn’t listen to us. But…Dot tried to convince her about you. She really did.”

“I believe you, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin quietly said as he patted Jaspinky’s back. Jaspinky sniffed once, twice, then intertwined his tail with Brainladdin’s. While Brainladdin’s tail was crooked and stiff from the amount of times he’d been roughly grabbed while stealing, Jaspinky’s was smooth and unblemished. “Did she say anything to Dot in particular?”

It was rather interesting to watch Jaspinky’s tail flow with every unrestrained emotion. Yet it also served as a reminder of their very different social statuses.

Jaspinky nodded sadly. “She said Dot doesn’t have any good ideas cause she’s just a kid who doesn’t know how the real world works. But then…neither of us have really seen the world outside the palace. The magic carpet ride was my first time, and it really was a magical wonderful memory I’ll treasure forever. But Dot-well, how do we know how the world works if we’re stuck here?”

For all his oddities, Jaspinky could ask the most profound questions.

“You won’t.”

But Jaspinky couldn’t live in the city either. Brainladdin didn’t want Jaspinky’s kindred spirit snuffed out by the cynicism and roughness of the streets.

Jaspinky winced, hurt shining in his blue eyes. Realizing his reply came out blunter than he intended, Brainladdin rubbed a circle into Jaspinky’s hand in a silent apology. Jaspinky lifted Brainladdin’s fez and planted a kiss on top of his head, then made a show of adjusting the fez.

Brainladdin took Jaspinky by the hand and led him to the siblings. He wondered how exactly he’d come to have more physical contact in the past day than what he’d given and received in years. Truth be told, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating change. But it would also be tinged with bittersweet.

After Jaspinky, he doubted he’d be able to ever touch anyone like this ever again.

“It’s okay-“ Yakko tried, hands held out to placate Dot.

“No, it’s not!”

Wakko was silent, but he was the first to spot Brainladdin and Jaspinky joining them. He gently turned Dot so that she was no longer glaring daggers into the buildings of ACMEbah. The fur around her eyes was damp with tears.

Jaspinky climbed up the skirt of Dot’s pink and white dress and perched on her shoulder, humming comfort into her ear. Dot stroked his head with her finger, and his foot kicked rapidly. She gave a tiny laugh.

Which was excellent, because Brainladdin was rather weary of all the crying. “Jaspinky explained what happened with the Sultan-CEO,” he said. “Though it didn’t have the results you wanted, we’d like to commend your effort regardless.”

“What Brainladdin said!” Jaspinky chirped. “Remember that mean ol’ Chance O’ Ler from Turkey? He was so scared of Sultan-CEO-Mom that his pants changed colors! But you didn’t even flinch in front of her!”

“Hey, how come nobody invited me to witness all this?” Yakko pouted, holding up a dramatic Greek mask with an exaggerated frown. “I would’ve drawn pictures of that moment, you know! I’m getting really good with my sketches!”

He snapped his fingers, and five large scrolls materialized, each containing a drawing of everyone in their group. Brainladdin thought it was a surprisingly accurate representation of himself…

…except his hands resembled a lump with misshapen sausages for fingers attached.

It was the most glaring flaw in all the other scrolls too.

“Are those chain-link sausages?” Wakko asked, pointing to his own sketch. Brainladdin was just glad he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“I like them!” Jaspinky said, wiggling his own fingers.

“It was mostly proportionate. But the hands leave a lot to be desired,” Brainladdin added.

Dot only covered her mouth and ducked her head.

Yakko shrugged, the scrolls disappearing. “Private tutors and art references are hard to come by when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Then Dot burst into laughter, Jaspinky chortling alongside her as her shoulders rapidly bounced up and down. She lightly struck the railing with her fist multiple times. There were tears again, but they came from joy rather than sadness.

“Those—ha! I can’t—Yakko, you really captured my good side…but oh my gosh-“ Dot could barely speak between breaths, a huge smile breaking out on her face.

Yakko winked at her. “Figured that would snap you outta it.”

Dot just hugged him back, and Yakko let out another ‘oomph’ as tiny yet strong arms encircled him. “Geez, what do you mice feed these kids?” he wheezed.

Jaspinky stood up, dusting his clothes off and trying a small test jump. “Zort! Brainladdin, catch me!”

A mass of fur, clothing, and narf crashed into Brainladdin, knocking him to the ground with no chance to prepare. He spat out a tassel from Jaspinky’s sleeve. The princess was way too cheerful about his impromptu belly flop.

Then Jaspinky sprang back up, helping Brainladdin to his feet as well. “Dot, I’m really happy to be your friend,” Jaspinky said. “But if Yakko doesn’t mind, I think it would be amazingly fun and wonderful if you could see the world for yourself.”

“Course I don’t mind!” Yakko exclaimed as he threw Dot into the air and caught her. “I’ll have to redo my travel itinerary, but it’ll be more fun that way! If I put Tahiti before Pennsylvania, we can go snorkeling with dolphins on a nice sunny Friday, no hold on a sec, China should be first cause it’s been way too long since I’ve had dumplings, and Greece can-“

“YAKKO, HOLD ON A SEC!” Dot shouted just as Yakko prepared to throw her again. She dangled somewhat precariously next to Yakko’s legs, but she didn’t seem to mind her position all that much.

It surprised Brainladdin that Yakko was willing to accept a new responsibility so readily, and he caught the wistful look on Wakko’s face when Yakko happily declared he’d love company on his trip, but he knew Wakko wouldn’t accept. From Dot’s forlorn expression as she glanced at Jaspinky, she wouldn’t take her chance either.

ACMEbah had a way of robbing everyone of a happy childhood. It appeared sadly common to every social class.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, not even princesses,” Dot growled. “And I’m not leaving you to the tender mercies of the Sultan-CEO or anyone who just wants a pretty face with money, Jaspinky.”

But Jaspinky shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about me though. Cause I’ll live in the city with Brainladdin and Wakko. So I won’t be alone!”

What? That is possibly the least reassuring thing you could’ve said right now, idiot!

Dot’s expression turned stormy. She was thinking along the same lines too.

“Did-did I say something wrong?” Jaspinky’s ears drooped. “I can do some good in the city. I-I never knew things were so bad. And I wanna help.”

“Put that fluff between your ears to use and think, Jaspinky!” Brainladdin snapped. Jaspinky’s mouth quivered. Brainladdin took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before clasping Jaspinky’s hands between his own. “I…I’m sorry. For my outburst. But remind yourself of our first meeting in the marketplace. You meant well when you took the apple off the fruit stand and gave it to Wakko, but you barely understood the concepts of money and payment, and you completely froze when the shopkeeper barbarically tried to chop off your hand.”

“You saved me though,” Jaspinky said.

“Yes, but if the shopkeeper had been faster with his sword? If I was too far to help you? And your lack of a disguise was another issue. You waltzed into the marketplace with all your finery and no protection. Someone would notice eventually. The best case scenario? Your clothes and jewelry would’ve been stolen, but that’s all. And if someone chose to kidnap you for ransom or worse, the palace and royal guards would’ve been in an uproar. If that hypothetical situation came to pass, guess which group would be suspected first.”

“N-no,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean-“

“I know why you did though. You weren’t malicious, just naïve. There’s nothing to apologize for or forgive.” Brainladdin pulled Jaspinky’s head down until their cheeks touched. Jaspinky’s fur was a different sort of warm, not blistering hot like the desert sun, but more of a soft ray of light.

The princess had walked among the commoners for the same reason Brainladdin had disguised himself as a prince. Because he’d felt trapped by a societal role and just wanted to be free.

“Brainladdin?” Jaspinky’s voice was oddly distant.

“If you leave the safety of the palace—if they realize you’ve taken the lifestyle of a common street rat—they’ll hate you. Nobody will see you. But you’ll be blamed. For things you didn’t do…or just for trying to survive. And you’ll lose your good heart, Jaspinky. I can’t even protect Wakko from the consequences. But he’s already figured out some of it. So please…don’t…l-leave…”

Don’t leave the palace…don’t leave me…

Wakko’s hand rested against Brainladdin’s back. The child was always too generous for his own good. It was a quality that Brainladdin couldn’t bring himself to force Wakko to lose, as much as it was a detriment to his survival.

Brainladdin’s vision blurred, and he felt water leak out of his eyes against his will. He was going to die of dehydration at this rate. Jaspinky nuzzled his cheek, humming a meaningless tune into his ear.

The magic carpet ride had been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of his life. Soft fabric beneath them, close quarters necessitating physical contact, a navy starlit sky above. Being weightless, being free from the worry of scavenging for scraps or taking over ACMEbah, being able to see the wonder in Jaspinky’s eyes as he touched a cloud for the first time…

They weren’t Brainladdin the street rat and Princess Jaspinky in the sky. No, there were no statuses to worry about, no pressures to conform to.

Jaspinky petting a wild horse as it galloped across the land. The stars twinkling in Jaspinky’s eyes. His excitement when he experienced something he’d never seen or done before.

Yet it would be nothing more than a wistful memory.

“They’re still trapped, you know. There’s gotta be something we can do,” a quiet voice said.

Wakko.

“Jaspinky. Brainladdin. You guys really love each other, don’t you?” Dot asked.

Brainladdin wiped his tears on his vest, not caring that it was one of the few pieces of clothing he owned. He looked up at Dot, who was seated on Yakko’s shoulders.

She’d been nothing more than an irritating obstacle when he tried to woo Jaspinky. But if it weren’t for her presence, Jaspinky likely would’ve been married to someone he didn’t love.

He really couldn’t fault her for hating the made-up Prince Brainli.

“He’s my world,” Brainladdin whispered, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He gave Jaspinky a tiny nuzzle, and Jaspinky’s tail intertwined with his own once again.

“And mine too,” Jaspinky agreed.

Dot watched them for just a moment longer. Then her back straightened, her head tilting proudly. Her foot tapped against Yakko’s chest.

“As someone who’s secretly observed the Sultan-CEO’s political meetings and learned the do’s and don’ts of palace business, I’m the most qualified one here for the position of temporary Sultan-CEO,” she declared. “Yakko. A scroll and quill, if you please.”

Yakko grinned, and the requested items appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you,” Dot said with a firm nod.

Brainladdin glanced at Jaspinky and Wakko, but they seemed just as confused as he was. He wasn’t sure if one could just declare themselves Sultan-CEO. That wasn’t really how it worked.

“I, acting Sultan-CEO Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third, also known as Dot, hereby decree that the Royal Marriage Law of 1175 is null and void, and from this day forth, the princess of ACMEbah shall marry whoever they deem worthy.”

The quill jotted Dot’s decree word for word on the scroll, every letter emblazoned with a golden shine.

“Now for the seal of approval!” Dot shouted.

Another flash of magic transformed Wakko into a black and white seal, the scroll was brought down to his nose level, and he gave the paper a large, slobbery lick. Then he clapped, his flippers beating together as Yakko tossed several fish fillets into his mouth.

Then the scroll disappeared, and Wakko transformed back, white bits of fish still coating his mouth.

“This new decree is non-negotiable and binding,” Yakko said. “And I’ve also taken the liberty of framing, enlarging, and sticking it in a palace hallway our dear power-hungry Sultan-CEO frequents. She won’t be able to remove it no matter how hard she tries.”

As if on cue, there was a distant horrified scream that practically blew one of the domed roofs of the palace off.

What just happened? She can really do that?

Jaspinky squealed in glee, right next to Brainladdin’s ear. He barely had time to rub the sensitive hairs before Jaspinky lifted him into the air and spun him around so fast that he saw more stars than the sun in broad daylight. And they were absolutely beautiful.

“I choose you, Brainladdin!” Jaspinky exclaimed. His laughter was like a melody, Brainladdin losing himself in the music, and he was probably grinning like a fool too but he no longer cared about that because he could be with Jaspinky, and there was an entire world for them and them alone!

Brainladdin clung to Jaspinky’s shoulders, steadying himself as Jaspinky set him down again. He brushed Pinky’s jewelry out of the way, and Jaspinky pressed his forehead against his own.

“Call me Brain,” Brainladdin murmured, and he held Jaspinky close.

They were no longer trapped. They were free. They could be together.

His heart quickened, and it was an exhilarating feeling indeed.

“Alright, everyone into the group hug!” Yakko shouted, and a giant hand scooped them up. Brainladdin was instantly sandwiched between Jaspinky and Wakko, Dot squeezing herself into the crook of Yakko’s arm on Jaspinky’s opposite side. It was getting hard to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the force of Yakko’s hug or a side effect of the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Now that we’re all done baring our souls.”

“Thank you, Dot!” Jaspinky exclaimed, hugging the girl’s cheek. “Thankyousomuch! And now that I’ve got Brainladdin staying with me, you should go with Yakko! No ifs or buts, young lady!”

Dot smirked. “You just wanna get rid of me so you can do stuff with Brainladdin.” There was something sneaky in her voice that Brainladdin heavily disliked. “But I’ll gladly take this vacation.”

“I could never get rid of you, Dot! You’re my best handmaiden!” Jaspinky protested.

“Simmer, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin said, and the princess relaxed. “She’s only teasing. That being said, I highly detest her tone.”

He gave Dot a pointed glare, and she casually placed her elbow against Yakko’s arm. “You’re not a complete jerk, but if I were as bigheaded as you, I’d avoid most of the rooms on the southern side. I still haven’t disabled the booby trapped perfume bottles that spray catfish guts yet. You’ll be mostly safe on the east side though.”

“And you’re not a complete brat. Just an annoyingly clever one,” he muttered.

Dot looked all too pleased with herself.

At least he’d finally confirmed who rigged that perfume bottle on his second night as Prince Brainli in the palace.

“Perfect!” Yakko exclaimed, and confetti showered down on everyone. “So any particular places in mind? A change of scenery would do you some good!”

“Burbank. Machu Picchu. Rome,” Dot said. “I’ll come up with more later. You got any ideas, Wakko?”

Wakko shook his head, only staring at the ground far below them.

“Wakko? Wakster? Wakaroo?” Yakko frowned, gently shaking Wakko, who only went limp. “C’mon, we know you’ve got places you wanna visit. Mostly for the exotic food, right?”

“Sorry. I’d love to go, but-“ Wakko’s face fell.

This wasn’t like before, where Brainladdin refused to let Wakko venture outside ACMEbah. Now neither of them would be alone in this world.

“Look at me, Wakko.” Brainladdin held onto one of Wakko’s fingers with both hands, and the boy obeyed. “As the soon-to-be ruler of ACMEbah, I will be living in the palace with Jaspinky. There’s no more need for concern. And you have a somewhat responsible brother and an irritatingly capable sister who will always have your back. Your new objective is to explore the world for yourself, and if you try to send money back or work yourself to the bone, I shall have to ground you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wakko snatched him up for an enormous hug. Brainladdin gasped for air, fairly certain one lung was punctured and his left kidney had been knocked out of place from the tight squeeze.

“Oxygen!” he wheezed. Wakko relented and returned him to Jaspinky, who was more of a white and blue blur than a mouse right now.

“Faboo, Dad!” Wakko exclaimed, much to Yakko and Dot’s joy.

“Yes, faboo indeed,” Brainladdin muttered, a dizzy spell from the lack of oxygen overtaking him. He slumped against Jaspinky. “I expect a letter every night, Wakko.”

If Wakko replied, his voice was lost in Yakko and Dot’s chatter over their travel plans. Brainladdin and Jaspinky were deposited on the balcony, Brainladdin finally recovering his vision so he could see the siblings off.

“Bye-bye! Bring back souvenirs! Troz!” Jaspinky shouted, his jewelry jingling as he waved goodbye to the siblings.

“Farewell for now,” Brainladdin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Best to act like he was ruling ACMEbah after all. He tried not to squeeze too tightly, if only to stop the slight ache in his chest from all this emotional nonsense.

“You heard them! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Yakko shouted, and he shot into the sky like a firework with Wakko and Dot in his arms. The two screamed in delight, their laughter echoing off the buildings of ACMEbah. “Let’s give the lovebirds some space!”

“We’re history!” Dot yelled.

“We’re mythology!” Wakko added.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT WE ARE! WE’RE FREE!”

In a shower of magic, they shot across the sky and were gone, off to tour the world to celebrate their new lives.

Jaspinky waved to the sky for a moment longer, then turned to Brainladdin, that stupid, silly, wonderful smile on his face. “I’ve got sweetcakes and tea in the kitchen. Do you want any?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jaspinky.”

They headed to the kitchen, walking hand-in-hand, never to be separated again.

o-o-o-o-o

Colorful fireworks burst around them, lighting up the night sky in flares of red and green and blue. The stars shone from above, the earth and all its worries far beneath them. A breeze tugged them along, the magic carpet pulling this way and that with no clear destination in mind. But they didn’t need one.

Whichever way the winds blow, as they say.

“Look, Brainladdin! Another letter!” Jaspinky pointed to a paper drifting towards them, protected by a cloud of Yakko’s magic. He leaned over the side in his excitement to grab it out of the air. Brainladdin kept hold of Jaspinky’s tail just in case, though the magic carpet was sentient enough to lift that side up to prevent accidental falls. The letter floated into Pinky’s hand, and he scrambled back to Brainladdin, showing off the letter proudly. “It’s a J! Wakko’s very good with oregano. I wish he’d teach me!”

He really should’ve been more clear with his expectations for Wakko.

“That’s a Y, Jaspinky. And oregano is a spice. This is the paper craft known as origami.” Brainladdin tucked the Y inside the folds of his royal robe for safekeeping. It would go nicely with the W and D that were already on his nightstand.

“Oh. Well then, it’s a very nice Y!”

“Yes, it’s constructed well.”

Another firework flared, and Jaspinky oohed and awwed at the wondrous sight, his eyes ever an innocent, pretty blue. He’d picked a new outfit for tonight: a purple crop top with matching pants and headband, a see through, puffy material that framed his bare shoulders wonderfully, and golden earrings.

The fireworks paled in comparison.

Jaspinky gasped in awe. “Look, Brainladdin! A shooting star! What’d you wish for?”

Brainladdin glanced at the canopy above, where a meteor shower zipped through the upper atmosphere. “You first.”

“Narf! Alright. I wished for a world where we can all be happy! Your turn!”

Sentimental, yet thoughtful. Of course.

“I wish…for our lives to be fulfilling.”

Jaspinky smiled. “Looks like our wishes came true then.”

“An astute observation,” Brainladdin said.

Jaspinky kissed him, and warmth flooded through Brainladdin’s body. They soared into the starry horizon, the full moon shining from afar. A new world awaited them.

AN: This…uh…this is way longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoyed this story. This is my first time writing the Warner siblings, so I combined some of the posts Deez-art made about this AU for my characterization of them. I apologize if they were out of character, but I did have fun with them. Especially Dot. For some reason her dialogue is just fun to write.

Also, Brain angsts too easily. That’s why this story is almost 7000 words.

Some of the dialogue comes directly from the 1992 Aladdin movie.

I HAVE LISTENED TO A WHOLE NEW WORLD HOW MANY TIMES FOR THIS STORY. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS EITHER. I NEED NEW LOVE SONGS.

As for why this story is published on AO3 instead of FFN, it’s just easier to tag this sort of thing there.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #brainladdin au #patb fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

masterjedilenawrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Helmeted Hunter: Chapter 25

Boba Fett x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Mention of injuries

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 25: The Exchange

The Slave I shot out of hyperspace, emerging just in front of a massive, triangular ship. Coming out of hyperspeed was always jarring, but this time it especially made your stomach leap into your throat. The might of the Empire could not be easily overlooked with such a vessel; it was no wonder they had been able to take over your planet.

"Ready?"

Boba had his armor and helmet back on, his voice coming through filtered and distant. He reached out and squeezed your hand, a reassuring gesture, but you could tell he was also steeling himself for the task at hand. Retreating back into his armor, becoming once more the aloof bounty hunter the rest of the galaxy knew him as. You wished you had some armor of your own to hide behind. Though you were ready and eager, you were also, quite frankly, scared.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you exhaled.

He let his hand linger on your yours with an intimacy that had only grown more comfortable between you in recent days. You would certainly miss it, but the hope of being with him once more, free and secure, would help keep you going.

"I'll meet you down below," he said, reluctantly letting go to steer the ship. The Empire was growing ever closer, looming in front of you, threatening to swallow you up. You didn't want to dwell, so you made your way out of the cockpit.

Breathe in, breathe out. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on that simple task for the next few minutes. Soon you felt the Slave I's inner gravity shifting as it laid itself down to land. When that familiar landing jolt came, you opened your eyes, staring at the ramp door with an odd mixture of dread and hope. Just outside were answers, but would they be satisfying? You had once been terrified of reaching this part, where Boba would hand you over to claim your bounty. You were still scared now the moment had come, just for different reasons.

Before your mind could spiral helplessly away, Boba clambered down beside you and began putting the old shackles on your wrists. They hurt now more than ever. Not only was there an inner soreness that would take many more weeks to heal, but you'd also had to cut back into one of the scars to implant a tracker. Boba had a personal rule against tracking devices, claiming such signals could be tracked both ways and he was too clever to ever compromise his own location. But an exception had been made for you; the risk of you disappearing was too great.

You only briefly took note of how easily you two had slipped back into old roles, he in his bounty hunting gear and you in your prisoner chains. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you'd last been like this. But then he tapped your chin gently, reminding you how far you'd truly come from being those people.

"Remember the plan," he said softly. "And good luck."

"See you soon," you whispered.

The ramp began to lower, letting in bright, florescent light. You were in a hangar much larger than the one on Crimson Dawn's ship. A row of stormtroopers were lined up on either side, and in the middle waiting was the Imperial Commander you'd once encountered, Orson Krennic.

Boba grabbed your upper arm roughly and pulled you after him down the ramp. You could see in your periphery he had his gun out, laying casually against his chest but pointed in your direction. You tried to keep your head down as he led you along, but it was difficult not to let your gaze wander around the vast room in curiosity.

"Boba Fett," said Krennic as you approached. He sounded even more condescending than he had before. "I dare say, I was surprised to receive your transmission this morning. Did your mysterious other deal fall through?"

Boba stopped a few feet short of the Commander, still firmly holding onto you. "Too much trouble," was all he said.

Krennic chuckled. "So it would seem. Yes, I've heard all about your entanglements with Crimson Dawn. Fighting like children over this bounty. Though I had hoped you'd be the one to eventually bring her in. I never did like Vos, the arrogant prick."

There was silence and Krennic seemed annoyed that Boba didn't want to comment and keep the conversation going. He stepped forward, but Boba jerked you closer toward him, the barrel of his gun digging into your shoulder.

"Payment first," he stated.

Krennic tut-ed and motioned to a droid standing off the side. It plodded over, carrying a case, which it opened to show Boba.

"One million, divided between Imperial credits and peggats, per your request."

Boba nodded at the droid, satisfied with the currency. He pushed you forward slightly, making room to grab the case. "She's all yours."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Fett," Krennic drawled.

A pair of stormtroopers came up on either side of you as Boba went back to the Slave I. In a few moments, the ship was flying out of the hangar, back out amongst the stars. You turned in time to watch it disappear into hyperspace.

And just like that, he was gone.

This was the part of the plan that had taken the longest to sort out; you two had stayed up late several nights arguing back and forth how to best handle it. The Empire couldn't have any suspicion that Boba would still be invested in you after the handoff, and yet, he hated the idea of having to return later to break you out, or track you if they chose to take you elsewhere. Each moment you were with them brought the threat of harm, and who knew if he could reach you in time?

One of the stormtroopers started removing your shackles, much to your surprise. Krennic looked over at you with a sort of smug grin that made you sense he knew exactly what you wanted to know but was having too much fun to tell you.

"Trouble, trouble," he said, coming closer. "That's all I've heard about you, young lady. I was beginning to think it wasn't worth it for us, either. But patience always wins out in the end. Doesn't it?"

He took your hands in his, examining the scars and scabs along your wrists. He squinted up at your face, assessing what other signs of mistreatment might be there. You'd had time to heal, sure, but you still hadn't properly showered, and there had been many sleepless nights while you fretted over plans with Boba. You knew it was enough to fool him into thinking you'd been a prisoner all along.

"Take her for inspection," he finally said, gesturing at the soldiers next to you. "Bring her to my office when you're done."

The inspection wasn't as invasive as you'd feared. In fact, it was more refreshing than anything. You were made to disrobe by a protocol droid before being sent through a quick rinse of soap and water. New clothes were given to you, a stiff blue jumpsuit with an Imperial logo stitched on the front, and the droid even wrapped some bandaging around the one wrist you'd re-aggravated for the tracker. There was another tracker, inside the former case of your music player that you'd put in your back pocket. The device was predictably discovered by the droid, who then passed it along to the stormtrooper that came to collect you.

Krennic welcomed you into his office, which looked more like a conference room, with a long table extending down the middle, windowless walls with florescent lighting emitting from along its border, and a small bar area in one corner where Krennic was presently pouring a drink. The stormtrooper handed him your music player before exiting, leaving you to stand awkwardly by yourself.

"Sit." It was more of an invitation than command. Krennic set his drink down and pulled out a chair, and that's when you noticed the plates of food in front of his seat and the one he was offering you.

You slowly lowered yourself in the chair, staring at him, not sure what to make of all this. You'd rehearsed over and over in your head all the things you wanted to say in this moment, but now you were at a loss. Was this a show, meant to give you a false sense of security? Or did the Empire want you for other reasons, not to be a prisoner, but something else?

You cleared your throat and forced out some questions. "So... what exactly do you want with me? Why the high bounty?"

Krennic chuckled as he looked at you over the rim of his glass. "Oh, you'll see soon enough."

See? What could he possibly have to show you?

#star wars #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #romance #fluff #mystery #team up #lots of planets #bounty hunting #making plans #the empire #orson krennic

16 notes · View notes

capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

Text

Someone Left to Save (9)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: I’m trying to come up with ways on how to write and publish like I normally would. Good thing I have a few spare tech I can use!

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions | Additional tags (also TW): Destructive habits, Depressed! Cal

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

The forgers at the Imperial armory fashioned your mask with a hybrid of square and triangular accents. Meanwhile, you donned the ash-gray ensemble that goes underneath your armor plates. In the set, you’re granted a pair of pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves to go with the calves of your pants, and a breastplate with a red stripe along at the hem. They all fitted like a glove.

The piece de resistance is all that’s left.

You watched the Imperial armor technician weld and solder the helmet until it morphed into their ideal, desired shape. Sparks flew, shimmered to light the room, and then die out almost instantly. Bit by bit, you’re starting to see his artistic vision realized.

“I do not discriminate. Newcomer or otherwise, I put a lot of attention to detail in all of my crafts,” the technician thought out loud, perhaps sensing your curiosity and worry that it might not look as good as the others.

“I’m sure you do, considering how many we are right now,”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether there’s dozens of you. I can make one unlike the other—always.”

He harrumphed a scoffing laugh as a response, taking pride in his declaration before continuing.

The armor technician has finished the shaping phase, next he lets it sit for a minutes before cooling it with vapor. You watched the whole process with great intent and curiosity, at the same time, it’s as though you’re watching your new face being created right in front of your very eyes.

He gingerly took the helmet in both of his hands, cradling it with an esteemed carefulness—treating it with royalty and high regard, for crafting an Inquisitor’s mask was a heavy yet rewarding task to complete. This particular forger was an expert crafter, he hand-designed and sculpted most if not all Inquisitors’ helmets and masks. Feeling the weight of yours in his hands, he carefully stepped away from his smelter and toward you; like a monarch’s crown, he presented it to you and inched it closer for you to take it.

“Twelfth Sister,” addressed the armorer.

The gloss of the duraplast once cooled distorted your reflection on its convex surface. A part of you doesn’t recognize this face, the other acknowledges it but doesn’t accept the reality—at least not yet.

From the armorer’s hand to yours, the helmet rests in its rightful owner’s grasp. You hoist it to the top of your head and then lowered it once you’ve aligned it. One moment, your eyes were shrouded by black, and then the next thing you know you’re seeing red—literally—through the visor of your helmet, though you see things as clearly as you’d normally do.

“It’s a perfect fit,” you said blankly, although the comment delighted the armorer very much.

He bowed and returned to the front of his smelter, he’d afford small glimpses of you getting used to the helmet. From your end, there were functions that you’re new to—such as infrared scanning—and there were buttons disguised as accents on the side of the mask that respond to these features.

“Interesting,” you mouthed to yourself, not caring whether the armorer heard it or not.

You tried breathing through the mask, fortunately for you, this won’t hinder the strenuousness of your fighting style—let alone movements in general—as well as catching your breath. For a moment, it’s as though the same world was unraveled before you with brand new eyes—ones that stopped fighting the hatred and used it as strength, rage that blinds yet helps you see with great clarity, the intoxication to power was a permanent leech on your skin and you relished it.

Now completely outfitted in your Inquisitor’s garbs, you make your exit out of the armorer’s chamber and head out to join your “brothers and sisters” in conference. Being the newest, therefore the lowest in rank, the crew and Stormtroopers have mixed feelings about you—though you could care less.

They looked at you with curious yet skeptical eyes as you strode past them. You arrived in the conference hall, heads turned to the door at the sound of the sharp, metallic buzz and then revealed you standing on the other side.

“Ah, the newbie, right on time!” the male Twi’lek Inquisitor chirped, his pointed porcelain white teeth standing out of his glistening, obsidian-black skin.

You stepped in, took that one gap in the line and seemed to have closed the circle surrounding the holotable. You didn’t miss much of the briefing, though they picked up where they left, you intently studied all the holographs that are flashed on the table: battle tactics, ship routes, and person profiles. You listened to the Second Brother explain everything down to the last detail; you saw what kind of person he is when the two of you aren’t swinging your sabers at each other’s neck, trying to kill one another.

The next part of his presentation included a whole collection of head shots. He explains that they are the current, surviving Jedi across the galaxy. The images of unnamed faces encircled the holotable and slowly rotated for each and every one to see. Below their portraits are short, bulleted write-ups of the latest reports about them: be it last known locations, current agendas, potential accomplices, and recent activities.

After the one you’re looking at, the next one made you quiver in your armor—you can spot that splash of red hair, a naïve freckled face, that boyish charm and a scrapper’s roguishness from a parsec away.

Cal’s head shot rotated and froze right in front of you; blank, jade eyes blending in with the fluorescent blue of the holograph as it stared through your helmet’s visor.

The most crucial part of your past life stares back at you.

The male Twi’lek, namely the Fourth Brother, noticed you in the corner of his eye, sensed your uneasiness and discovered your intrepidity replaced with a sudden, dramatic loss of self-confidence. The Second Brother continued his exposition.

“According to our latest intel, these are the Jedi currently in hiding. Some of them are so bold enough to join factions, such as the traitor—the former admiral Jax Beneb who made with a faction in Ulfin,”

“This one, Cal Kestis, joined them not too long ago. He travels with the Mantis crew comprised of its pilot, a Lateron named Greez Dritus, the right-hand and former Jedi Cere Junda, and… er… a witch. We don’t know the latter’s background, we can only confirm she’s Dathomirian.”

“She’s called a Nightsister,” you corrected the Second Brother.

“He and his crew got themselves involved with the uprising in Ulfin,” the Fifth Brother continued.

“Until the Imperial fortification was bombed—no thanks to Twelfth Sister right here.” The Seventh Sister finished with a voice of chagrin and sarcasm.

There were soft gasps and quiet murmurs amongst the other Inquisitors who apparently had no prior knowledge.

“In my defense, I wasn’t one of you that time,” you dryly chuckled before adding. “Took a few good voltages before you broke me, eh Seventh Sister?”

Feeling outclassed, Seventh Sister rolled her eyes and avoided eye contact from you. The sight of her furrowed eyebrows and the crease on the side of her nose warranted a satisfied, mischievous smirk. You bobbed your head at an angle while the next head shot proceeded, and then Cal’s image rotated to the female red-skinned humanoid with cropped brown hair on your left—this one is known as the Eighth Sister.

Second Brother continued with his plan, catching everyone’s attention by clearing his throat and getting back to the objective at hand. The point was to fan out to selected planets and systems where the Jedi stragglers ought to be and hunt them down—which is their original prerogative ever since the Inquisitorius was formed. Before anyone else could call it, you pressed a button which prompted the ring of head shots to spin wildly until the picture of Cal glows right in front of you.

“I’ll find him, along with Cere Junda,”

“Pheh! Hey, who says you get to have first dibs?!” the Eighth Sister screeched.

“Do you know them like I do?” you raised your voice against her and you were met with a stifled silence due to the lack of a good answer. “You’d be more productive in recovering junk parts salvaged by Jawas than finding the Mantis crew and the Jedi boy!”

The same silence hung around the holotable. You seem to have a knack in making anyone who spoke against you to hold their tongues. It seems everyone was waiting for you to elaborate on your rationale.

“I know the pilot’s flying tactics as well as Cere Junda’s technical tinkering that go hand-in-hand. The Nightsister is not to be underestimated lest you won’t be meeting her good side; and her powers exceed urban legend—she can cloak a ship like a normal cloaking device would, she can raise the dead, she can bury you alive six feet under without even touching a hair on you. That’s how potent her magick is. The boy, on the other hand, I know the most—his fighting, his emotions. Point is: I’m the best chance in finding them.”

You glanced left and right, searching for an objecting reaction from the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother, and then looked straight into Second Brother’s eyes.

“And you can’t deny that, Second Brother. So do the two right beside you.”

The rest of the Inquisitors turn to the Second Brother for his reply, he gave in and he cannot deny that cold, hard fact—that you were once in connivance with these people. And so, you’re granted with your chosen targets; the others followed suit in selecting which Jedi to go after.

—–

Cal wakes up in a cold sweat again. It has become a frequent occurrence, an unwanted habit that he’s trying so hard to kill.

The weeks turned into months, he’s honestly lost count that he had to ask someone else.

They’ve moved on from Jax Beneb’s rebel faction and went off-world. At first, it was difficult convincing the boy that they had to go and leave the planet, as there’s nothing coming back to him as much as he hoped, and whatever he’s waiting for is just dead air. He had developed a destructive habit of drowning himself in trances—he’s practically returned to where he was before: where he loses control in meditation, doing so has distorted his subconscious vision; he eats only once a day—sometimes not at all—and locks himself up in his room. BD-1 is his only companion through and through, but not even the tiny droid can get a word out of the Jedi boy.

The bracelet, your bracelet, is now worn around his wrist; but in the first time he’s secured it on his arm, the leather cord felt like it was burning and searing through his skin, but when others would take a look at it there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The metal pendant, with the scorch marks obscuring the finish, felt like a red-hot branding iron on his arm, his hand twitched and jerked, yet he couldn’t bring himself to swat away or rip the trinket off.

He hated the pain, but it was the only comfort he knew of remembering you by.

A self-imposed penance.

He blames himself for not coming sooner to get you out.

“[Y/N] would hate to see you like this, Cal,” Merrin started to scold.

There was nothing the Nightsister got out of the Jedi.

When he looked at her straight in the eye, she flinched; and then she got a closer look of the sorry state he’s in—there were dark circles around his eyes, the swelling and the redness of the lining of his eyes suggested restless nights whiled away with crying, untreated cuts and bruises spotted his knuckles and the damning evidence is the small yet noticeable streaks of blood on the gray walls.

“Merrin, I can’t crawl out of the grave that I’ve dug for myself,” Cal shuddered, his voice muffled as his mouth was blocked by his knees folded and drawn to his chest. “I know she’s still here. And I’m talking like the sentimental kind, no, I really know. You have to believe me. You all must think I’m crazy.”

“You don’t see or hear any of us saying so,”

“I know, I just… I don’t know if I’m imagining overthinking it but I just feel like you guys are only humoring me,”

“I don’t do that kind of thing, Cal, it’s not in my nature,” Merrin shook her head. “But I miss [Y/N] too. More than you’d like to know.”

Cal sighed and didn’t speak further. Merrin dismissed herself out of his bedroom and reminded him that Cere had left a plate of dinner for him before closing the door. When he was left alone again, he hung his head low and ran his fingers through his loose, unkempt hair.

He had been alone for most of his life, but this was a different kind of loneliness—one that he isn’t entirely used to. The emptiness, the silence, and the depression bore an alien, coldly terrifying air that hung heavily around his bedroom. The engine hum drowned out his sobbing as he tucks himself away in bed, deliberately forgetting his meal outside.

Cere feels all of that grim emotion pooling inside that room, she wonders how much of those feelings will she pick up if she opens that door—could she take it? Will she be overwhelmed? These were the questions she asked herself.

“Give him some more time. I don’t think he needs us right now, Cere,” Greez glumly said, stopping her in her tracks in any attempt of consoling Cal.

Cal could not sleep—another problem he’s dealing with. He lies with his back flat on the bed, tears trickle down his temples and pools on his pillow just below his ears, he feels like he’s nestled in his deathbed. He can close his eyes, but he cannot catch a wink of sleep. Sometimes, he mistakes dreaming for meditation—of the other way around.

As the meeting pronounced adjourned, they scrambled out of the conference hall while you’re left alone. Arms crossed with one another, you stared at the set of head shots you projected on the table—Cal and Cere. Even though you know them so well, you wondered what kind of information the spies have written about them in their reports.

Your eyes trailed to the write-ups for each profile.

CAL KESTIS

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cere Junda, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

CERE JUNDA

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cal Kestis, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

You sighed as you finished reading through the facts of their profiles. You turn away from the holotable and stand in front of the mirror that oversees the operations happening outside the Fortress in Mons Golotha. It’s originally a spice mine owned by a crime syndicate who capitalized in the illegal spice trade, but since the occupation and establishment of the Fortress Inquisitorius, the propriety was handed over to the Empire.

Through the window you watch the moving specks that are the people slaving away to harvest the raw, unprocessed spice, loading them into crates and then into freighters. But the turmoil of these pitiful workers weren’t your focus, you’re channeling it to finding Cal’s connection in the Force and through the Force. The storm in your mind has calmed for a time, allowing you to think and meditate clearly; even in the darkness, you see a light at the end of the path. You pursue it, as you run towards it like an excited, curious child you utter his name.

Cal…

His eyes shot up, he was on the verge of falling asleep already until he heard his name in the distance. He sat up, surveyed the bedroom and found nothing. He shrugged it off as nothing and decided to lie back down… but the voice called again.

Cal...

Now this time, he recognizes the voice. He bolted up.

“[Y/N]?!” he gasped.

Where are you?

“Where are you?”

You didn’t answer, one question led to another.

I need to find you. Tell me where you are.

“I… I’m in—”

“So, Twelfth Sister! How’s the hunt coming along?”

The boisterous Fourth Brother interrupted you and deprived you of the most vital part of your plan. He barges right into your personal space; before he could utter another word, you grabbed him in a chokehold using the Force and slammed him against the window wall. The impact was so hard that a crack appeared right behind his head almost like an icy halo.

The grit of your teeth hissed out the words, “What. Do you. Want?”

He gurgled his words but turned out into frothy noises, you saw him tap for submission on the glass and his ankles buckling.

“What is it that you have to say that is so important that you had to interrupt me and my meditation!?”

“I…. Guhhkk! Wanted to ask if… aagghhk! You plan to go alone!”

You released the Twi’lek, he fell to his knees coughing and clutching his neck.

“I work alone. Go.”

You turn away and wait for the Fourth Brother to leave your sight. Despite calling each other brother and sister, there was no filial connection amongst one another; simply put, it was only tolerance and putting up with each other’s bull. You, on the other hand, hate everyone. Some of them may have not played a part on your turning, but you can’t help but remain hostile towards them—the Eighth Sister deduced that it’s a normal feeling when you’re the fledgling of the Inquisitorius.

You leave the room and make for the hangar to your TIE Fighter.

Meanwhile, Cal was met again with silence and the ecstasy he felt in hearing your voice—even just in his head—died with his melting smile. He sighed and slipped under his sheets again, his heart ached as he coaxed himself to sleep.

Another long night awaits.

38 notes · View notes

strongerwiththepack · 4 years ago

Text

Sensory Sunday: Touch

Whoops I’m a bit late but here’s my ‘touch’ fic for @gumnut-logic's new challenge. The boys weren’t cooperating with me today but I think it turned out alright in the end!

Hyperthermia vs. Hypothermia

“Do you two coordinate your disasters just to irate me?” Virgil asked in exasperation as he warmed up another heating pad between his hands.

Scott just shrugged but Gordon grinned at him. “Just keeping you on your t-toes bro.”

The joke was kind of lost in the sound of chattering teeth so Virgil just rolled his eyes and placed the final heating pad onto Gordon’s chest. His little brother hissed slightly at the startling change in temperature. Virgil eyed him wearily, he was still pale and his lips had a slight blue tinge to them but at least he was shivering again which meant he was warming up.

He crossed the infirmary to examine how his other patient was doing. Scott, in complete contrast, had a cooling blanket draped over him with ice packs around his neck and armpits. Virgil removed the cold compress from his brother’s forehead and held his hand over it, cringing at the heat still coming off him.

Somehow Scott had come back from his rescue with severe heatstroke and then he’d had to go and pick up Gordon because he’d managed to get hypothermia. It was almost laughable. In fact he had laughed, and now he was regretting all his life choices as he yoyoed between heating and cooling treatments.

“You’re dehydrated, you need to keep drinking Scott.” He reiterated, eyeing the still full glass of water he’d left by his brother’s bed. “Don’t make me put an IV in.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Scott grumbled, grabbing the glass, a little too aggressively, and drinking a few sips.

Scott’s skin was sunburnt and irritated and Virgil could see it starting to peel at his hairline and cheeks. He’d already put cream on them so there wasn’t much more he could do.

“Don’t blame me, you were the one who decided not to wear your UV shielded helmet.” Virgil shot back with a hint of annoyance in his tone because this could all have been avoided if his older brother wasn’t such an idiot.

Scott just glared at him and Virgil rolled his eyes. He knew his brother was regretting that decision now that he was confined to the infirmary and off duty for 48 hours. He’d argued about the amount of time but Virgil was not budging on that one. He knew the dangers of heatstroke and he wasn’t risking his brother going out before he was ready.

“Hey V-Virgil, seeing as I kept my helmet on, do I w-win this one?” Gordon called.

“Seeing as you were at the bottom of the ocean, I’m glad you made that decision.” Virgil replied with a smile shaking his head.

Scott piqued up then, apparently putting the dots together. “How did you end up with Hypothermia anyway Gordon? Your suit should have protected you from those temperatures.”

Trust Scott to jump on the big brother train first opportunity he got. Gordon just grinned sheepishly.

“Well I said I kept my helmet on, I never said anything about the rest of my suit.”

“What!? Gordon, report.”

Virgil sighed. “Scott you’re supposed to be resting. You’re both supposed to be resting.”

Scott narrowed his eyes at Gordon.

“Fine.” He said getting comfy on the bed. “Let’s call it a bedtime story then, on you go Gordon.”

Virgil frowned but didn’t stop Gordon as he dove into the story with all his usual dramatics. He was pretty curious as well, he’d only heard a condensed version from John earlier.

***

“I’ve just got one more to get John” Gordon told his space monitor brother as he prepared to swim across from Thunderbird 4 to the downed submersible once again.

John popped up looking slightly distracted. “Okay Gordon. Listen, Scott’s got himself in a bit of trouble, think you’ll be okay to navigate solo?”

“FAB John.”

Gordon felt some concern rising for his oldest brother, but John would’ve told him if it was serious. He turned his focus back to the rescue. 3 crewmen aboard a research submersible in the Arctic Ocean that had been hit by a Bowhead whale.

Gordon was familiar with the mammal, Bowhead whales have a massive triangular skull to help them break through the ice in these waters so its unsurprising that it was able to do so much damage to the tiny sub. The entire vehicle was flooded, luckily the crew all had dry suits and breathing apparatus. The problem was getting them from their vehicle to Thunderbird 4 through the strong currents in the water. Due to the unpredictable waters he wasn’t able to dock safely to the vehicle.

So, now he was free swimming across with the researchers but he had to take them one at a time in case the currents were too strong for them to make the swim. It was a fairly standard rescue. He should be done soon. John had directed him to the divers in the first place but he knew where to go now.

Gordon swam through the outer hatch once more, battling his way across to the submersible. These definitely weren’t recreational waters, the current was strong. He really had to pump through the water hard to get through. It was a cross current so he was swimming pretty much diagonally to where he wanted to go, pushing against the current while also propelling himself forward. It was slow work but his hand finally found a rung on the research vessel.

Pulling himself through the opening he’d made previously he swam through the flooded hallways to where he left the last researcher.

“Final call for dry land.” He called out as he turned the corner. Luckily the woman was right where he’d left her and she smiled gratefully.

“What would we do without you International Rescue.” She said in a relieved tone, her Icelandic accent coming though strongly.

“All in a day’s work ma’am” Gordon replied with a smile as he attached a line between them. It was always nice meeting kind people on the job. It was pretty rare when everyone you met was going through what was likely one of the worst experiences of their life so he usually shrugged off any unsavoury characters.

They were almost at the door when the compulsory disaster every rescue seemed to contain occurred. The whole station started to flip on its side and they were thrown into the wall. Gordon felt a searing pain in his side as a piece of bent metal cut into his suit. It was a shallow cut but that wasn’t what Gordon needed to worry about. He hissed as a flood of sub-zero temperature water flooded into his suit. It felt like daggers against his bare skin.

Okay. That puts a time limit on things.

He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to stop his heart racing from the shock of the cold water and turned to the researcher.

“Are you alright?” he gasped out.

“I’m fine.” She seemed a little dazed before noticing the tear in his suit and widening her eyes. “Your suit?”

“I’ll be fine.” He shrugged off. “Let just get you out of here.”

She looked at him with uncertainty but complied, nonetheless. Oxygen wasn’t an issue, he doubted it would leak into his helmet to that extent before they got back to Thunderbird 4. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew the risks in these temperatures but the best thing to do would be to just finish the rescue as quickly as possible.

He started swimming with the researcher swimming behind him. None of the research team would have made it through the currents alone, the connecting cable pulled taunt every time and he ended up propelling himself and his passenger through the water. It was what he expected though, the required level of swimming ability you needed to obtain an underwater vehicle license was pretty low.

The swim was definitely harder this time though, the cold seeping into his suit seemed to be burning his skin and his limbs were feeling sluggish. It didn’t help that the rip was near his chest, it would be reducing his core body temperature a lot faster. He was surprised John wasn’t already screaming at him.

His muscles were burning by the time he was able to latch on to his bird and he took a second to catch his breath before opening the outer hatch. He let the researcher in before him and gave a sigh as the water drained out of the compartment. Usually he’d be completely dry under the suit at this point but the soaked fabric clung to him and he shivered violently.

He secured the last researcher with her colleagues, leaving them with a reassuring smile, that probably wasn’t vey reassuring considering how bad his teeth were chittering, before heading to the cockpit and letting out a sigh. He was freezing.

“Thunderbird 4, your suit readings are showing a sharp decline in body temperature. What’s your status?”

John had popped up on the comm, his brow furrowed. Gordon was feeling pretty rubbish but he didn’t want to distract his brother if Scott still needed help.

“I’m okay Thunderbird 5, go help Scott.” He assured.

“Scott’s fine Gordon, he’s back on Tracy Island now. What’s your status?”

Gordon sighed in relief, realising he’d been holding on to some stress about his brothers situation subconsciously.

“My suit was compromised while in the water John.” He reported. “I may be in the beginning stages of hypothermia.” He replied sheepishly.

What he didn’t expect was an amused smirk from John and the questioning tone. “Hypothermia?”

Gordon was confused now, he was in the Arctic Ocean with a ripped dry suit, of course he was hypothermic. He must have let some of that confusion show on his face because John just shook his head and muttered. “It doesn’t matter, just know Virgil is not going to be happy.”

“Can you make it to the drop-off point?” John asked him, changing the subject.

Gordon was still confused at his brothers questioning but replied. “Yeah, I’m only 20 minutes off the port, but I may need a pick-up from there.”

“FAB Gordon, I’ll notify Virgil. Let me know if it gets any worse.”

“Thanks John.”

***

“And then Virgil came to rescue me and brought the warmth with him.” Gordon ended, snuggling down into his pile of blankets and heat pads.

“John called me exactly 30 seconds after I had got Scott settled and treated for heatstroke telling me that you had hypothermia and needed a picked up.” Virgil interjected shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“You know you love us.” Gordon grinned and Virgil was glad the colour seemed to be coming back to his cheeks. He repositioned the heat packs that had fallen out of place during his brother’s theatrical hand gestures.

Scott groaned. “Urghh, just looking at those heat pads is making want to throw up again.”

“Again? I think it’s story time for you now big brother.” Gordon piqued up.

Now it was Scott’s turn to look sheepish. “Wellll I was in Mongolia helping with earthquake evacuations and bear in mind here that this rescue took over 10 hours”

***

“Okay John, I’m moving on to Sector G now.”

“What? Scott you just finished searching Sector G.”

“Oh. Sector…” Scott had to do a quick run through of the alphabet to figure out what came next. “…H then. Sector H.”

John noticed the pause.

“There is no Sector H Scott. You’re done.”

“Uh…Great. I’ll head back to One then” Scott said looking around about him. He was glad to be done, he’d had a pretty bad headache for a couple of hours now but it had started to subside.

John frowned at him but replied anyway. “FAB Scott.”

Scott slowly made his way back to his bird. He was desperately looking forward to a nice long, cool shower when he got home. It had been a long day and he technically hadn’t needed to stay past the last aftershock but the local aid services just didn’t have the equipment they did. It was a much faster evacuation with him helping. He had been out in the sun all day though and he could feel the heat on his face.

Gordon was so going to laugh at him for getting burnt and he could already hear Virgil’s lecture on wearing sun cream.

“Scott, where are you going?” John questioned as he popped up on his watch.

Scott looked around himself. He had no idea where he was going. Huh.

“Uh, I might be a little lost Thunderbird 5.”

John frowned at him again. One of those frowns that said you’re acting weird.

“I’ll send through coordinates.”

“Thanks John.”

His brother signed off again. Scott knew Gordon was on another rescue so he didn’t bother his space-bound brother again, even though it took him way longer to calculate a path from the coordinates than it should have.

Finally setting eyes on his bird was a relief. The insulated metal encasing that promised a cool environment inside. Except when he did step inside, and the cool air hit him, all that greeted him was a strong feeling of nausea. He barely had time to grab a bin bag before he was emptying the contents of his stomach into it. He sank down onto his knees and heaved over the bag as the feeling failed to pass.

“-ott what’s wrong?” He finally registered.

Bringing his arm up he was met with a worried looking John which managed to shake him out of the nauseous daze he’d ended up in.

“John. M’fine.” He mumbled. It didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

He pushed himself off the floor but was met with worrying double vision before it tunnelled and he ended up on his knees again, slumping sideways into the wall of his bird, trying to blink the spots out of his eyes.

“You’re not fine, Scott. Stay down.” John ordered. “When did this start?”

Scott sighed, moving to sit with his back against the wall, resigned to his fate as John quizzed him. He was usually pretty good at pretending to be fine but not being able to stand up was a bit of a giveaway.

“I don’t know John. When I got to my bird, I just felt really ill.”

John’s lips pursed but his attention got pulled to something on his left.

“Hang on Scott, it’s Gordon.” He made to blink away but turned back warning. “Don’t move.”

Scott started to stand up as soon as his brother was gone. In his defence, he did take it very slow this time. He leaned heavily against the wall as he stood, breathing deeply to try and dispel the nausea. His skin was tight and irritated, he rested his cheek against the cool metal of his bird and sighed at the relief it provided. His skin was on fire. That probably gave him an indication of what was making him feel sick. Virgil was going to murder him.

He stumbled up to the cockpit and sat down heavily in the pilots chair. John popped up on the dash.

“Scott. What did I say?”

Scott just smiled innocently. “Sorry bro.”

John growled in annoyance. “It’s not funny Scott. You could have passed out and hit your head. And you are not flying home.”

“John I’m fine.” Scott tried to reassure. “It was just a dizzy spell.”

“Scott, I am remote flying One home and Virgil is going to be waiting for you at the other end to take you to the infirmary because we are pretty sure you have heatstroke.”

Yeah he was pretty sure on that as well so he just groaned and leaned his head back against the chair. He tried closing his eyes but the world spun around him every time he did so he focused on a spot on the roof and fought to keep the contents of his stomach as John flew him home.

***

“Ha! You’re way more of a screw up than me.” Gordon boasted as soon as Scott was finished. “I’m here because of an unavoidable accident whereas you’re here cause you’re just an idiot.”

Scott scoffed at the statement but Virgil just raised his eyes in amusement. At Scott’s look of betrayal he stated. “What? He’s not wrong.”

“Virgil I was busy!”

“Not too busy to take care of yourself. All you’ve accomplished is John having to monitor your sun exposure and water intake from now on.”

“John doesn’t have time for that.”

“Exactly! So, stop making it a necessity.”

Scott huffed in frustration but Virgil just glared at him. He could see Gordon out of the corner of his eye itching to break the awkward silence but he gave his brother a slight shake of his head. He was not letting Scott get away with this one. He could understand one mistake but this was not the first time this had happened. Scott needed a reminder that they were not invincible, especially to the forces of nature.

He was pretty sure that in Scott’s mind the only dangers were the stuff that could actually hit you. That’s why Virgil had to be the one that watched out for the more subtle heath concerns of their job but he was tired of Scott not listening to him.

“Okay.” Scott finally conceded. “I’m sorry, I was being stupid.”

“Good.” Virgil nodded, accepting the statement. He was pretty sure that was all he was going to get out of his stubborn eldest brother.

Scott flopped his arms over his eyes and Virgil winced, knowing Scott probably had a horrible headache at the moment.

“The ice in those packs has probably melted by now. I’ll swap them out.” Virgil reasoned heading to the door so he could replenish their supply of ice from the kitchen.

“Good idea, I feel like a furnace.” Scott replied, arms still covering his face and mumbling his words slightly.

“That’s it.” Gordon suddenly declared. “I’m coming over to cuddle.”

Scott deadpanned him. “We are not cuddling Gordon.”

Gordon was already climbing out of his own bed though, keeping one of his blankets clutched tightly around him as he shivered. “Too late. Gimme some of that heat”

Virgil just laughed as he swiftly made his exit. It honestly wasn’t the worst idea in the world. He could still hearing his brothers bickering as he walked down the hall though.

“Just so you know, I kick in my sleep.”

“Gordon get off my bed!”

#sensorysunday #sensorysunday2020 #thunderbirds are go #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #dont know how cohesive this story is as a whole but I try #bring on the next one

42 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 4 years ago

Text

chapter fifteen: art pop and pop art

By a quarter to eleven, Joey had left Sam's apartment and disappeared into the inky darkness, and Frank still hadn't returned to his room downstairs. The building was silent, and yet the sound of Stormtroopers of Death still rang throughout her ears. In retrospect, their lyrics made her blush to think about. Loud, crude, rude, and over the top, and yet glorious.

Add to this, she was going to get that money, for sure.

Her ankle and her knee continued to ache from her fall, but at least Joey was kind enough to help her spread it across the couch cushions. The last thing he did prior to leaving was place an ice pack on her ankle.

In the mean time, she flipped back to the drawing of the man from her dreams for a good long look at him. There were a few things she knew she could have done a little better, such as the white stripe atop his head. And yet, what was done was done right there in her hands. She gazed into those dark eyes and she wondered if she could see him more in her dreams.

Despite it being late, Sam had no desire to go to bed just yet. What she said to Joey had already gone away from her mouth. The deadline was coming up. She needed to fill out the rest of those pages. She thought of the show from earlier, and the mirrored images right before her.

There needed to be more than what she had already done in the prior pages. There needed to be more as the time was counting down to the due date. With a grimace in pain, she lifted herself from the couch and she ducked back into the bedroom to check the exact day on a little piece of paper on her desk. She thought about that due date, much closer than she originally believed if she wanted to start that fall term, as she returned to the front room for the journal. She let out a low whistle from the pain in her leg, but without wasting another second, she returned the pack onto her injury.

She wondered if she could turn it in early so it could be a weight lifted off of her shoulders. One less thing to worry about. All night long. All night and not a single moment of sleep from the pressure, and also from the pain.

Both combined to drive her.

She set the journal across her lap and she brought the tip of the pencil to the paper. Her view had been mirrored, and she had no reference to help out, but she managed to sketch out Dan with his bass guitar slung over his shoulder from memory: much like Frank, Charlie, and Joey, he had wavy long dark hair down past his shoulders, which he kept obscured over his face. He looked to be playing left handed there on the page, but she needed to draw it out. She needed to use Stormtroopers of Death, her saviors, the men with no restraint on their sense of humor or their own groovy distorted music, as her muses for the night.

Once she had signed the full graphite drawing of Dan, she drew out a sketch for Scott, followed by one of Billy, complete with a microphone in hand. Charlie was drawn from the side so she could work on a bit of perspective for the drum kit: she started work on the cymbals when the first rays of the sun shone through the window on the other side of the room.

“Oh my god,” she muttered as she lifted the page and revealed one more page rested upon the hard cover of the journal. Even though she had pushed out all the rest of the building, she swore she never heard anyone walking through that front door after Joey had left. Frank still hadn't returned home overnight. She shifted her leg every so often to keep things comfortable all night long: but that time, she moved her foot closer to the back of the couch and every inch tingled.

Sam grimaced in pain as she moved her leg closer to her body in hopes to wake up her foot, albeit without causing any more pain to her ankle.

She thought of the boys down in Brooklyn. Joey liked her, and Joey also told her that it could be possible that Frank could develop something with her. It was taking on some sort of triangular form right before her eyes, and yet it might have been a part of her imagination. No one really said anything, and for all she knew it was just based on hearsay all courtesy of Aurora.

She needed one more drawing.

Something. Anything.

There was a myriad of things she hadn't drawn as of yet. Two people in the same picture, let alone two people close together. She kept her leg bent and lay her knee on the cushion, and she rested the journal atop her knee. She drew out their heads first, side by side. Their arms wrapped around each other's bodies. Their thighs pressed against each other. She drew out the upper lip on the left one, followed by the bottom lip. The upper lip on the right one, followed by the bottom lip. Both of them interlocked with each other.

She held back for a better look at the rough drawing, and she realized neither of them had no hair.

No one was telling her anything. All of it based on assumption. Maybe she could pry an answer out of someone somehow if she forced it. Aurora had her work cut out for her and there was no way she could rightfully ask either Joey or Frank without being blunt.

She closed her tired eyes and sighed through her nose. She thought about Joey's black curls as she put down dark spirals on the figure on the right: within time, she put down some soft waves on the figure on the left. She soon followed it all up with a bit of shading around her breasts to ensure they resembled to breasts. She thought about Joey's chest and if it resembled to anything she was shading in at the moment.

It was just something to make her giggle, to play around with Aurora should she ever see it for herself. But then again, it was just a journal to be handed into a small group of people who were to decide her fate for her and her position in art school. Not for Aurora's eyes, or the eyes of anyone else.

And with that, she signed the bottom of the drawing and leaned back into the couch. She let out a low whistle as she knew she would have to make a trip downtown anyway to check on Frank and Charlie.

Sam limped into the kitchen, and she put on a quick pot of coffee. All the while, Emile's voice floated up from downstairs, right through the heater vent in the far corner of the room. He sounded angry about something; his voice was then followed up by that of a woman. Bickering with one of the tenants about something.

She sipped her coffee and within time, she hobbled down the block to the subway station for that long trip back to down to Brooklyn. She hoped to hitch a ride with Aurora again up to the school as she held onto her journal on her lap and kept her purse close to her body. Even though the ice on her ankle helped a great deal, there was no way she could stand up the whole ride down there. Indeed, sitting there had its discomfort: she couldn't stretch out her legs and every time she did, someone always ran into her feet.

Lucky for her, she reached the heart of Brooklyn before she could ache any more and yet she had no idea where L'Amour was right off base. She peered up at the clear blue sky overhead, at the skyscrapers that lined the crowded streets before her. She squinted against the bright sun and she took her sunglasses out of her purse with one hand.

The woman donned in all black set against a bright colored street.

She thought about what she and Joey had gone through the night before with all the signs along the road. Just follow the signs. They know more than those on the road. Sam took a glimpse across the street and she recognized those pale bricks and those bright lights on the side, now darkened with the daylight. Something donned in total darkness set against a bright colored street.

Despite the pain in her leg, she crossed the street with the journal still pressed to the side of her body. She recognized that helmet of orange near the edge of the building.

“Marla!” she called out, to which Marla turned around for a look over at her. She squinted her eyes and brought a hand over her brow to protect from the bright mid morning sun.

“Hey!” she greeted Sam, who hurried up towards her, still with the journal pressed to her body. Marla dropped her gaze to her stiff arm and frowned at the sight. “What you got there?”

“My sketchbook,” Sam replied, somewhat out of breath. “You know, the thing I have to turn into the school at some point so I can start up.”

“Oh, yeah! I was just going to ask you about that, but you went home with Joey.” She peered behind Sam, still with a frown plastered on her face. “Where is Joey?”

“He went home after he dropped me off.” It was the truth: Joey did return home after he helped her into the apartment.

“By the way, how's your leg doing? Lars told me you took a big fall next to the stage and it was hurting like hell last night.”

“It's—It's better than it was,” she confessed as she shuffled her foot over the surface of the sidewalk. “Still hurts, and I'm limping, too. At least I can walk around, though—last night, I couldn't hardly take two steps without feeling like I was about to fall over again.”

Charlie emerged from behind the edge of the building with his hair disheveled and a pair of sunglasses over his face.

“Who you talking to, babe—oh, hey, Sam!” He showed her a sickly little smile.

“Were you guys here all night?” she asked him as he stretched his arms up over his head.

“Yeah, everyone was like, 'stay the night!' and Marla and I were like, 'okay?' so we slept in the back room. We were just about to get some breakfast.”

“Well, I hate to do this to you guys, but—I have to turn this in.” Sam held up the journal and Charlie gasped.

“Oh, shit! Already?” He was stunned.

“Well, the sooner, the better.”

“Oh, right, right, right. Well, yeah—let's fetch Frankie and mosey on up to the school—” He leaned back a bit and turned his head. “Hey, Frankie! Let's get sump'n to eat!”

“I had a feeling Frankie was here still,” Sam confessed as she shifted her weight: her ankle started to ache again.

“Yeah, Frankie passed out last night,” said Marla with a chuckle. Frank emerged from behind Charlie with his hair glistening under the sun.

“Did you shower just now?” Sam asked him with a laugh.

“I ran my head under one of the kitchen sinks in there,” he cracked, “yeah, I showered in there. We're all a little bit hungover still from last night. Including me.”

Marla put her arm around Sam to help her out to the car, even though she promised her she could walk just fine on her own.

“We're going to make a little stop up by the school, too,” Charlie told Frank once they were in the car. “Sam I am's gotta show the people there her journal.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Frank's voice filled out the front of the car. He then turned around and showed her a big beaming smile. “You're gonna places, I just know it!”

They started on the drive up to Manhattan and all the while Frank couldn't help but drum on the ceiling right over his head and on the dashboard.

“Man, and you thought I was obnoxious with that,” Charlie scoffed as they took the main artery up to Manhattan.

“Oh, come on, my best friend is gonna get into art school!” Frank exclaimed. “I gotta celebrate, Char.”

Sam gazed out the window, at all the buildings that surrounded the block. The whole thing felt like a dream, like none of it was actually happening. The sun was big and bright against the pure blue sky, which was more blue than she ever imagined. The lights were brighter than ever before and the warm spring air that flowed through the car windows never smelled sweeter, despite it being the heart of the City.

Within time, they reached the small shady parking lot outside of the school. Charlie pulled up to the curb before the glass front doors and Sam almost swan dove out of the back seat, still with the journal in hand. Charlie burst out laughing and then he turned to Frank and Marla.

“You guys wanna take a walk?” he offered them as Sam gathered herself and adjusted her purse strap. Bad idea to do that: her leg ached even more as a result of it. She stood upright and Frank and Charlie came up to her.

“Good luck, girly cue,” Frank said in a big bold voice, and he threw his arms around her.

“We'll be waiting for you out here,” Charlie added, as he stood back and rested his hands on the cold metallic railing within the concrete steps. She then turned to the glass doors with her purse over her shoulder and the sketchbook tucked her arm, and she headed inside.

She was greeted by that familiar clean smell from the carpet, the smell of college, as well as a young man in a sensible white shirt and with a head of fine platinum blond hair.

“I'm here to turn in my art to get into art school,” she proclaimed.

“Oh, really?” he asked her with a friendly smile on his face, and she handed the journal to him as if she was depending her life on him. “Did you fill out all the paper work yet?”

“I did, yes.”

“And your name?”

“Samantha Shelley,” she stated, “for the fall term.”

“I hope we can have you by then, Miss Shelley,” he told her with a thin lipped smile. “We will send you a letter in the next week—give or take.” He took her hand: his fingers curled around her hand like spidery snakes and his palm had a bit of a warmth to it that she couldn't explain, and for a moment, she forgot about the pain in her knee and her ankle. She could trust him.

“What's your name, by the way?” she asked him.

“I'm Bill,” he said, “and I'm supposed to be at work soon.”

“I'll leave you to it, then,” she declared as the smile crept across her face.

“And I'll hand this into the right people,” he vowed; for a second, she swore he winked at her. Without another word, they parted ways and she returned outside to find Frank and Charlie right next to the car; the latter leaned into the rear window to say something to Marla while the former put his hair up in a loose ponytail atop his head.

“Five little monkeys jumpin' on the bed,” they chanted in unison, when Frank turned to see her.

“There she is!” he declared with his arm extended towards her. She pressed herself close to his body. “That was quick. How'd it go?”

“They're going to send me a letter in about a week or so,” she explained.

“God, how exciting!” Marla exclaimed. “Attending art school in New York City.”

“Also, you might wanna check your bank account at some point today,” Charlie suggested with a grin on his face.

“And I have to talk to Aurora about something, too,” Marla informed them.

“She headed back up to the place, didn't she?” Charlie asked her as he bowed his head back in through the open window.

“Yeah, she did—real early this morning.”

“Miss Work Horse,” Sam joked as she rounded the back end of the car and slid into the back seat.

They headed on back up through the streets of Manhattan to meet up with Aurora, who stood outside of the front door with a clipboard full of papers in one arm and her jet black hair tied up in a taut ponytail atop her head. Her purple top shone in the bright sun like a piece of amethyst; the four of them pulled up to the curb in front of her.

“Uh, yes, we'd like four bowls of pho, some French fries, and I'd like a milkshake,” Charlie joked in a single breath.

“A milkshake with pho?” Aurora replied as she wrinkled her nose.

“At least it's pho and not kimchi,” Marla retorted as she slid out of the car.

“Oh, hell yeah, that's true,” Aurora nodded and tucked the pen behind her ear. “Oh, and by the way, we've got some people you guys oughta meet here.”

“Some dudes?” Sam called as she climbed out of the back seat right behind Marla, even though she very easily could take that other side. She adjusted the strap of her purse.

“Some manly men, yes,” Aurora joked, “and there's a girl, too.”

“Manly men and a girly girl,” Frank added as he climbed out of the passenger seat and fixed his ponytail yet again.

Aurora led them into the cozy front room, made even cozier by how many people had congregated in there. Five men dressed in total black as well as a girl with a short bob of jet black hair, a low cut black top over a leather mini skirt, and something sticklike in her back pocket stood behind them with her arms folded across her chest. She was the only person with short hair given each of those men had long inky waves down past their shoulders. They all turned to Aurora, Marla, Sam, Frank, and Charlie.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” Aurora declared, “meet the Legacy, here all the way from the Bay Area with their four track.”

Sam's eyes wondered to the far edge of the room.

There he was again. The boy with the yarmulke atop his head, except that time she could actually see him at a close range. He had little tight curls at the back of his head which started to touch his shoulders, and his face was slightly round and boyish; even from across the room, Sam could tell he towered over her. He reached up to adjust the yarmulke and she could tell he had a great deal of that thick black hair under there.

But there was something more to him.

At one point, he took off the yarmulke and gave his hair a toss back with a flick of his head. For a second, she swore the lights shone a little too hard onto the right side of his head, but when he lowered his head, she noticed a little sliver of white over his forehead. Maybe it was the light hitting him at an odd angle. Or maybe not, given the rest of his hair was solid black. A little shock of white, about the size of her pinky finger, against a helmet of solid jet black waves all around his head.

He held the yarmulke before him in one hand and he ran his free fingers through his hair. It was definitely a little sprout of white hair; white silvery hair much like the mysterious man in her dreams. The only difference was he seemed nothing like the man in her dreams, who always held her or at least wanted to come closer to her; on the other hand, this young man seemed more interested in what was going on behind that door. However, she still wanted to keep her eyes on him and that little sliver on the crown of his head, like a little droplet of a pearl.

“Sam?” Aurora asked her which broke her out of her daydream.

“Huh?” Sam gaped at her, flabbergasted.

“Marsha's tryin' to get through,” Frank told her, and Sam stumbled back a bit. Marsha breezed past her to greet this small, fledgling band.

“So you guys changed drummers, right?” Aurora asked the girl with the drum sticks in her back pocket.

“Yeah, Louie left for a bit,” she grumbled, “but then again, I'm the one payin' his rent so I dunno what his big deal is all about.” She looked like she meant business, even with her arms folded across her chest to accentuate it. One of the boys giggled behind her and she flashed him a smirk.

“Okay, so you're—” Aurora gestured to her.

“Zelda,” she said.

“Zelda?”

“Zelda Carmichael. I'm the alternate and the one paying Louie's rent.”

“I'm Eric,” the heavy boy next to her said.

“Eric, that was it!” Aurora declared as she scribbled something down. Before Sam and Marla could learn their other names, Frank and Charlie led them into the next room. Even from down the hallway, Sam kept her eye on that little knit yarmulke for a second longer. He looked like he was about ten years old, except he was willing to play in a metal band.

“Yeah, Derrick left—” Eric was cut off by Sam moving out of earshot.

“Just wanna get you ladies into another spot,” Frank told them as he fixed his ponytail yet again.

“Didn't know they were going to be here just yet, either,” Marla confessed.

“Apparently they're not going to be the Legacy anymore,” Charlie announced. “That's according to Billy, anyways.”

“They're not?” Aurora gaped at him and she almost dropped her pencil.

“Yeah, I guess there's another band down in New Orleans called that,” he explained, “and they copyrighted the name, too. That's what I've heard, anyways. They don't even know—all they know is there's another band called the Legacy. As far as I know, they're just going to drop the 'the' as far as their demo tape goes, but who knows. But I have no idea what kind of music they do, either.”

“So they're going to have to change their name,” Aurora concluded.

“What're they called now?” Sam asked him.

“They've got some ideas, but one that caught my ear—'cause Billy was the one who came up with it—was Testament.”

“Testament! Sounds mysterious.”

“Mysterious and faithful sounding,” Aurora added. “Like they're about to preach something to me, or give me something to help me out.”

“I like it,” Marla said, “there's a bit of an elegance to it.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Billy came up with it, really?”

“Yeah. At least I think he did. When he comes back up this way, ask him 'bout it, babe.”

“Where is Billy, anyways?” Frank asked him.

“He disappeared as far as I know,” Charlie joked. Marla took a seat on the couch on the side of the room, and Sam followed suit so they could take up a pocket of silence against the crowded place.

“So much people in here right now,” Sam said in a low voice and with a grin on her face. All the things happening around her made her forget about the pain in her leg.

“Yeah, it's starting to...” Marla cleared her throat. “...come together. Like it's all on the come up. All the hard work is about to play out in the best way possible. It's all bands coming together with their tapes and their records. It's almost like a dream.”

“And I've got art school knocking on the door, too,” Sam added. “Bring it on, I say.”

Marla extended her hand to give her a high five, and that was when Billy stumbled into the room right then.

“There's the man of the hour!” Sam declared with a clap of her hands.

“So you came up with the name Testament,” Marla started as she gave her orange hair a toss.

“Yeah, but nothing's concrete as of yet,” he explained with a bit of a quiver to his words. He then pointed at Sam. “Check your bank account. You've got a little something waiting for you.”

“That's what I've heard,” she said, and she turned her head to Marla.

Everything felt to be on the come up. But there was something she still didn't understand at the moment, and that was the boy in the yarmulke.

2 notes · View notes

fanficsforheartandsoul · 5 years ago

Text

A Lost Jedi | [Fem!Reader] | Star Wars

Wooow, I wrote a second part :D

Notes: I do not live in the US, I’ve never been to Disneyland and I have no clue about writing

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Minor Swearing, Unrealistic Depiction of California, Non-Canon Timeline from Star Wars

Summary: Y/N, a Jedi padawan is lost on an unknown planet with her droid R7-S9. Her ship is destroyed and she cannot reach her Master. With the help of a kind human civilian, she was able to find a location where a Jedi outpost could be and where she might just find other members of the order...

Word Count: 2711

Part I

——–

“R7? You there?”

Her comlink stayed silent and Y/N cursed under her breath.

“Listen, buddy, I’m sorry for before. I mean we’re on an unknown planet without my Master and... I’m kinda scared, you know. So could you like, maybe... respond?”

Her fist clenched the comlink tighter as she ran around a corner. She pressed her back to the wall and checked the way she came from. No one seemed to have followed her. A relieved sigh left her lips and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

Beep. Woo-weep.

“Hey, my friend! Yes! Yes, of course!”, exclaimed the young Jedi and she couldn’t hide her relief.

“Where are you right now?”

The droid whistled through the comlink and she blinked.

“You... What? You found an outpost?!”

Some people turned heads in her direction and she reprimanded herself for being so loud. She had already cast some stir, it was better not to cause more.

“Are there any Jedi?”

While she had a whispered conversation with R7-S9 she saw some people with similar white hats checking out the crowd before her. Y/N already had her suspicions and decided to move. Better safe than sorry.

Wohoop Be-Weep Woo-Beep. Be-Beep!!

R7′s thrilled beeps and whistles made her laugh and the fact that he apparently found a Jedi made her heart leap. She would ask the Jedi for help, then contact her Master and the order and then finally, she would leave. Anakin and the 501′s were probably already waiting for her. She would apologize to the council and then go back into battle.

Her heart was pounding in anticipation as she followed the instructions of her astromech droid who was leading her to his location.

While Y/N was rushing to get to him, R7-S9 watched a brown-haired woman in grey clothes. According to his scanners, she was a Jedi. The lightsaber on her waist was enough evidence. R7 whistled. Y/N would probably cry from happiness once she got here. A sound similar to a snicker escaped the droid.

“Mom, look!”

The astromech droid turned his head and scanned the two approaching humans with his triangular eye. A female adult and a male child.

“That’s the droid from the parking lot!”

Small hands began to paw the droid and he shook in revolt. An angry chirp showed his disapproval and R7 extended his gripper arm with a shock module attached. He waved it in front of the child and whizzed some rather inappropriate insults.

Boop Be-Weep Wo-Beep Ba-Waap!!

“Woah, Honey! Maybe you shouldn’t get too close to it. It doesn’t seem to like it.”

The mother grabbed her child and stepped back to a safe distance. R7-S9 whistled in satisfaction and turned his head around only to register that the Jedi was gone.

Beep Boop!

“My, what do we have here?”

The astromech droid was startled and turned his head to the side only to notice the female Jedi right in front of him. It took him a moment but then he introduced himself and waved his gripper arm as a greeting.

“Are you lost, my little friend?”

R7-S9 chirped politely. He wasn’t lost, he was waiting for his ma- a voice interrupted his whistles.

“R7, there you are!”

Both he and the female Jedi turned to see Y/N arrive. The padawan was out of breath and the droid analyzed her pounding heartbeat.

“Man, some weird civilians started to follow me. We need to get to the Je- Wait a second. You!”

The brown-haired woman next to the astromech droid pointed a finger at herself.

“Me?”

Y/N just stared. The person before her also had a lightsaber. In fact, there seemed to be many people walking around with some sort of replica of the Jedi weapon. But none of them embraced the force. And with this woman, she felt the same. The force wasn’t engulfing her.

That shouldn’t actually worry the padawan since her Master was able to completely hide her Jedi nature as a Jedi shadow but she still had doubts.

The Jedi remembered the masked man who looked like a Sith. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t felt the force when she stood before him. That person hadn’t made her feel like she would drop her lightsaber because of her trembling hands, he hadn’t shaken her balance with just his voice and the malice in it. Actually, that man had no trace of the fury, torment, and angst that surrounded a user of the dark side.

It was at this moment when Y/N realized. And it hit her like a brick.

She could not feel any Jedi or Sith on this planet because there were none.

“Adam, wait!”

The panting of his friend and assistant Marcus stopped the actor from following the woman. He turned around and looked at the stormtrooper mask that Marcus was wearing.

“What are you doing? We’re still filming the video.”

Ah.

He remembered the camera and promptly took a look around. Jace waved at him and he just nodded since he couldn’t do more with Kylo Ren’s helmet on.

One of the people that escorted him and guaranteed his safety while in the park, took off his helmet and stepped closer to him.

“That wasn’t planned, Mr. Driver. We’re sorry for the ruckus. Security will take care of that lady, don’t worry.”

Adam straightened his hood.

“I’d like to meet her again.”

He said these words without giving them too much thought and Marcus was obviously surprised.

“Why?”

“I...”

He couldn’t quite name what he felt when he saw the young woman but there was something weird going on. It was a gut feeling.

“Let’s follow her. I think it will be entertaining.”

The actor couldn’t see his assistant’s face under the stormtrooper helmet but he was sure that Marcus just gave him a devastating look. He turned to Mr. West who planned the filming of the video.

“It might be interesting. Could we change the route?”

While the producer talked with the team of Disneyland, Adam stared into the crowd. He remembered the moment when the woman had glared at him. Hatred and pain filled her eyes and he wondered where they found such a good actress. Then he remembered the words of the staff worker. That wasn't planned. Then who...?

It was a great day. She was finally here after weeks of begging and pleading. The grin that appeared on her lips in the morning was still there. She was smiling so hard, the corners of her mouth slightly hurt. Nothing could ruin this d-

"Leah, I told you to watch your brother!"

She sighed. Her eyes found Timothy standing not too far away with his back to the rest of the family.

"Tim, get back here, Mom's worried!", she called him but her brother didn't answer. He seemed spellbound by something.

But he wasn't the only one. Leah noticed how other park visitors started to crowd in front of them and they seemed to watch the same thing as her brother.

She approached Timothy and grabbed his shoulders.

"What are you looking at?"

"They're fighting, Le. Rey and that Girl!"

Her heart began to pound faster. Was this one of the special acts of Galaxy's Edge? She heard that some actors would randomly meet up and perform an Impro. Witnessing one would be an awesome memory. So she peered through the crowd and her eyes found the two subjects her brother was talking about. Her expression changed from excitement to shock.

"Tell me!"

She recognized the actress immediately who was playing Rey. She was sitting on the ground in a defensive position with her hand stretched out in front of her. The expression of the actress showed unease and Leah praised her for her good acting skills.

The other woman that Timothy mentioned was standing over Rey. Her appearance was foreign but clearly from Star Wars. Leah had never seen her before that's why she didn't recognize the character she was supposed to play. But from the lightsaber hilt on her hip, she was probably a Jedi.

"Where are the Jedi?!", shouted the female stranger and Rey cowered in fear.

"I-I don't know. Miss, you should calm down!"

Leah didn't even realize that she got out her phone and started recording.

"Why is everyone walking around with a lightsaber but no one is connected to the force?!"

Rey shook her head and made a sign with her hand. Neither the crowd nor the woman realized that It was a sign to call the security who protected the actress.

"The Fo-Force works in many ways. I don't know why you can't feel it, it's here. It surrounds us."

Leah's phone was on Rey and she almost squealed in excitement when she heard the words only a true Jedi would say. That's why she didn't expect the answer that was coming from the strange woman.

"True, it does surround me but your connection to the force is weak.”

Gasps erupted from the crowd and her brother shouted angrily: “Rey is the strongest Jedi!”

Leah gripped his shoulder and a shiver ran down her spine when the woman slightly turned her head to look at Timothy. It was just a glance but it was powerful and even though she was impressed by the skills of the actress, she couldn’t stop the thought that maybe, just maybe, the woman wasn’t an actress but something else.

“So you call yourself a Jedi, huh. Can you even use your lightsaber?”

The prop on Rey’s hip flew into her hand. Surprised chatter escaped the surrounding people and more phones surfaced and started recording the odd improv. The woman pressed the activation button but nothing happened. Obviously, it was just a prop.

The expression on the stranger’s face distorted. A sudden beep alarmed Leah and she turned the camera to focus on a droid that looked similar to R2-D2. My god, Disneyland is so good with props!

The robot beeped again and wheeled towards the two women and only then did the girl realize that it must be the companion of Rey’s counterpart.

And then a lot of things happened at the same time.

The crowd shuffled and split and five seemingly harmless park visitors appeared. But they had walkie talkies on their hip and wore all the same hat.

“Ma’am, please step away from Rey. You are disturbing the park and would like for you to come with us. If you do not comply we will have to use force.”

At the same time, the woman crushed the lightsaber prop in her hand. With sheer astonishment could the crowd watch how Rey’s lightsaber hilt turned to dust.

“What is this...? Where are the Jedi? M-Master...”

Leah probably was the only one who heard the woman. She was shocked that they apparent actress was, in fact, none and the security guards had shown up.

One of the guards took a step forward and wanted to grab the woman but he froze as soon as a yellow glow enlightened his face.

“Do not take a step closer!”

It was only for a second but she saw it. The distinctive shape of a lightsaber like in the movies. It was pointed at the security guard but the next second it was gone and the woman with it. What... what just happened?

Tears streamed down her face as she ran away from the crowd using the force to hide. Her Master’s technique had probably saved her life this time. Like many times before.

“Master...”

A big lump formed in her throat and she tried to regain her focus, her peace, but the Jedi and their codex seemed so far away for the moment. How could she stay calm when she had no way to contact her Master and leave this planet?! Emotions seemed tempting and it took all her concentration to stop the tears and at least try to keep some of her Jedi dignity.

She didn’t realize that she had left R7-S9 once again behind and that the astromech droid tried to follow her while scanning the environment for heat signatures furiously. And neither did she notice that she would collide with a stranger if she continued to walk tha-

A muffled oof and two strong arms that held her in place made her regain her focus.

Y/N looked up and she recognized the mask of the Sith impersonator. She understood that the Force veil had somehow lifted and she was now visible again.

“There you are.”

The words were void of any threat or danger and the padawan just stared. Her expression had turned to stone and the only things who showed how emotional she was ten seconds ago were the wet streams on her cheeks.

His appearance had lost any dangerous air when she had realized that there were no Jedi or Sith in the park.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was slightly nasal because of her crying but she ignored it.

“You seem lost.”

A raspy laugh escaped her lips. How right the man was.

“What if I am?”

Adam almost forgot that the young woman was still in his arms when he spotted the cameraman in the corner of his eye and he immediately let go of her and took a step back. Kylo Ren wouldn’t hold a woman like that. Maybe Rey but not a stranger.

The tear stains gave her a somber aura and he focused on her cold expression. He wanted to ask if she was okay but they were still filming and his persona would never ask that. He thought about his response for a second and then said:

“Join me.”

Her eyebrows narrowed for a second and she took a step back. A rational choice.

“For what? I know you’re not a Sith.”

The spark of anger he saw when they met the first time was gone. Her indifference towards him now struck him and spiked his interest.

“I am not a Sith, that is correct. The Sith are gone.”

She eyed him carefully. Her hand slipped to her hip.

“Then what are you?”

He wanted to stay in character and respond like Kylo Ren would but he saw Mr. West behind the woman with his thumbs up and he sighed.

With a smooth movement, he took off his helmet and revealed his face and identity.

“I’m Adam Driver.”

-----------

“Star Wars fans are going wild because of viral video filmed in Disneyland California. Many believe that Disneyland just teased a new movie and its main character. After The Rise of Skywalker, fans are thirsting for some new content. In this clip...”

Leah just watched the video in silence. It was the scene that she filmed earlier this day. It was from another angle so the person must have stood on the opposite side of the crowd.

“The woman has been seen several times in the park. She knocked down Kylo Ren and his troops and fled the scene.”

That information was new and Leah was surprised when they showed another video clip from that moment. It seemed like the actors were really pushed by something invisible.

“How do they do that?”, she asked loudly and pondered for a moment.

“Disney hasn’t made a statement yet but the first clip shows how security shows up so the possibility of the woman being an actress to announce a new movie is small.”

Leah stopped the video. If that weird woman wasn’t an actress how could she knock down the other actors? Did they prank each other?”

The wheels in her head were turning and she continued to watch some more videos about the strange event.

Youtube and Twitter were exploding with news about the woman after all.

“Adam Driver? You want me to join you on driving an Adam?”

The man that had just revealed his black hair and brown eyes stared at her in bewilderment.

“What?”

He seemed so shocked he didn’t continue.

“He’s an actor, Miss”, said one of the men with the white helmets behind him who tried to hold back his laughter. The Adam Driver turned around and gave him a look.

“An actor?”

Y/N didn’t quite understand.

“Adam Driver is his name.”

Oh.

#star wars #adam driver #Jedi #Sith #Kylo Ren #padawan #Rey #the force awakens #droid #anakin skywalker #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #x fem reader #Luke Skywalker #reader #fanficsforheartandsoul

67 notes · View notes

marvelsaos · 5 years ago

Text

First Look: Ming-Na Wen’s Star Wars Assassin From The Mandalorian

A fox can be a sly predator—or it can be the vulnerable, hunted prey. Ming-Na Wen’s new Star Wars character from The Mandalorian is someone who knows how quickly one can become the other.

The Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Mulan actor will appear as the assassin Fennec Shand, who crosses paths with Pedro Pascal’s masked bounty hunter midway through the first season of the Disney+ series, which launches with the streaming service’s debut on November 12.

“We got our inspiration really from the name. The idea of a fennec fox came to mind,” Wen told Vanity Fair. “She’s tricky, and yet she’s able to maneuver and survive, and be stealthy—so very graceful and agile. I just love that whole image with the name.”

The first appearance of her character is in this new teaser video, with her facing down the faceless lead character, a man without a name apart from the warrior tribe whose armor he wears. She delivers a somewhat ironic line: “Your name will be legendary.”

Is she the light side or the dark side? Good guy or bad? Or does her allegiance lie somewhere in the middle? “Thinking that she’s a mercenary, it can go either way,” Wen said. “I think it remains to be seen.” Wen compared her to Han Solo, a survivor who didn’t start out believing in any cause but his own. Then again, Fennec Shand made her name committing murder for the galaxy’s top crime syndicates, so she’s much closer to the sinister side than the wisecracking smuggler.

“She is definitely someone who’s loyal to herself,” Wen said.

The show, created by Iron Man filmmaker Jon Favreau, is the first live-action Star Wars series, set in a lawless time in the galaxy after the defeat of the Empire in Return of the Jedi. It brings a Western movie motif to the galaxy far, far away, with Pascal’s masked bounty hunter inspired in part by Clint Eastwood’s Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s 1960s Spaghetti Westerns.

Pascal accepts a bounty from a mysterious client (played by Werner Herzog) who wears an Empire insignia around his neck, then goes on to encounter a former Rebel Shock Trooper Cara Dune (Gina Carano), a jowly Ugnaught alien named Kuiil (voiced by Nick Nolte), and a killer droid IG-11 (voiced by Taika Waititi), among other underworld denizens.

Carl Weathers plays the Mandalorian’s patron, Greef Carga, who leads a guild of bounty hunters dispatched to settle scores and collect wanted individuals in the aftermath of the galactic civil war.

Fennec Shand has a past, but she’s also something of an unknown. Her backstory, like so many of the humans and aliens she has eliminated, is a moving target. “It will evolve, it will change. I mean, I think that’s what’s so wonderful about creating a new character,” Wen said. “I think she has a good sense of humor about it all as well, which is also fun. You can’t really pinpoint which direction she’s going to go.”

This is also the first major female Asian Star Wars character to appear onscreen who hews to the villainous side. Wen said she is happy more Asian and Asian-American performers are finally appearing in galactic storytelling, especially since the earlier films borrowed so heavily from Asian cultural influences—from Darth Vader’s samurai-style helmet to Padmé Amidala’s Mongolian-style regal headdresses. “There was all this incredible imagery, but yet there were very few Asians in the films,” Wen said. “Any sort of representation is important and necessary. And I’m just happy that I got chosen. It was meant to be.”

Growing up in the late ’70s and early ’80s, Star Wars was a touchstone for her. “It’s definitely a film that has had such an impact in so many people’s lives, including my own,” Wen said. “As an Asian kid in Pittsburgh, and especially in Mount Lebanon, sometimes you feel very alone and very isolated. And I think for me, with Star Wars, I connected so much with Luke having these dreams and wanting something bigger and better than being a little farmer in Tatooine. Just that image of him looking at the binary suns and wishing for more, it always stays with me.”

Wen also has a Pittsburgh history with the director of her first episode, Dave Filoni, longtime executive producer of the Star Wars animated shows The Clone Wars, Rebels, and Resistance, who made his live-action debut with the pilot for The Mandalorian and returned to helm another episode, featuring Wen, near the middle of the season. “We both grew up in the same town, and there was just a real connection because of our love of Star Wars,” she said. “He was so open to talking about things, and working out the logic of each scene. That’s what I love,” she said. “We were working on some line changes, and he was up for all of that. So it was a very fluid, fun, organic kind of process.”

Wen also contributed her own ideas about the character’s look. “At first, the idea was maybe just have her hair be loose, unkempt kind of thing,” she said. “And I thought, Well, she’s going to be wearing a helmet and she’s this stealth assassin. How great would it be if her hair has a bit of the fennec fox architecture to it? So the hairstylist came up with this great braiding system, that just gives an idea of these triangular points. Like her ears.”

You can see them pulled back tight against her head, threaded with orange—another callback to the animal that inspired her. “It just gives her such a strong, unique look. I’ve been doing Agent May all these years [on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.] with long flowing Marvel hair, I wanted to make this character, who’s also such a badass, very different, very stark in a way.”

The costume is a leathery, broad-shouldered armor. “The designer, Joseph [Porro,] came up with this amazing outfit that I fell in love with right away,” Wen said. “It’s black, but then there’s the fennec orange punch to it. So that’s kind of like her brand, I guess.”

Lastly, what is her weapon of choice?

“She has quite a few weapons because she’s a very skilled fighter,” Wen said. “Just her body is a weapon in and of itself. And she does carry…a big, big gun. A big boy.”

Source: https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2019/11/ming-na-wen-the-mandalorian-star-wars-fennec-shand

#agents of shield #melinda may #the mandalorian #Fennec Shand #ming na wen #text post

47 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 5 years ago

Note

Amari twins vs Sanjay?

I never did write that fic where Rajeev loses his eye…and Sanjay isn’t exactly the guy to fight his own battles.

All this takes place before Aedan meets Rei, for those of you keeping track, chronologically.

Also I was listening to the Tron soundtrack on repeat while writing this.

—-

Oasis was too bright, even at night. The city seemed to glow, from its windows, from its streetlights, the hoversails on the artificial lake, even the blue of the lake itself, all of the lights of the bleeding into each other as Rajeev and Samir stood on the roof of a massive high-rise, overlooking a pristine-looking white building just across the street.

“…this seems like a bad idea,” said Rajeev, “You know when I’m the one saying ‘We should probably think this through more’ that means it’s a really bad idea, right?”

“I know what I’m doing,” said Samir, furrowing his brow as he scrolled between several holograms on his hard-light projector.

“And don’t get me wrong, I want Mom’s blueprints back too!” said Rajeev, “But… I don’t know about doing this without the team…”

“You know with Talon and Null Sector on the docket, Overwatch isn’t going to prioritize intellectual property. If we want this done, we have to do this ourselves,” muttered Samir, before he suddenly perked up, “Got it!”

The lotus-shaped platform of a teleporter opened up on the edge of the building. Rajeev watched with some unease as Samir phased some hard-light armor plating onto himself and gave himself a visor with a sweep of his fingers.

“…You can stay behind and stand watch if you don’t–” Samir started.

“No,” said Rajeev, tying his hair back and phasing his own helmet on, “We do it together.”

“In and out, it’ll be totally easy,” said Samir, phasing his own hard-light rifle into existence, “We’ll even get back before the moms are back from that show.”

“Right—” said Rajeev, phasing on some additional armor, “In and out.”

They both stepped through the teleporter and stepped out to an expansive high-rise office. It was minimalist, which given the huge windows on virtually every side save for the door leading in to the office, made both the twins feel exposed.

Vishkar Architectural Consulting glowed on one of the walls and Rajeev stood in its blue and white glow as Samir quickly walked over to the glassy-looking desk.

“Seems a bit more state-of-the-art than Athena…” murmured Samir. He put a palm down on the desk and instantly several holographic screens popped up, the centermost one asking for a password.

“Welp, we don’t have the passcode,” said Rajeev, idling over behind the desk with Samir, “Guess we’ll have to head ba–”

Samir drew a data lamprey from a long pocket on the side of his pants and set it in the center of the desk.

“You just said this thing was more advanced than Athena!” said Rajeev.

“And data lampreys have gotten more advanced, too,” said Samir, typing in a few keys that appeared on the glass of the desk. It didn’t take too long to find Satya Vaswani’s blueprints out of the mass of files—Sanjay had to be perusing them frequently. The data Lamprey extracted all of the blueprint files under ‘Satya Vaswani’ and Samir interlaced his fingers in front of him and stretched, cracking them before snatching up the data lamprey. “See?” he said to Rajeev, “I told you. In and ou–”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come back in the daytime if you want a tour,” a clear voice spoke up at the other side of the room.

Both Rajeev and Samir flinched and pulled close to each other, Rajeev projecting a hard-light shield and Samir holding his hard-light rifle ready. A tall man dressed in white and purple stepped through the door, his hair sleeked back and a hard-light glass over one eye.

“You must be the twins,” said Sanjay.

“Samir–the teleporter,” said Rajeev, and both twins started edging towards the teleporter still open a few feet away from them.

“Oh no–” said Sanjay, pulling out a photon projector and firing a beam at the teleporter.

“No!” Rajeev held his hard-light shield in front of himself and leapt in front of the teleporter, but it was too late. With a fully charged photon beam the teleporter dematerialized. Aiming out from just behind Rajeev’s shield, Samir pulled the trigger and Sanjay cried out and flinched as Samir shot the photon projector right out of his hand. Rajeev kept the shield up. “Open another one,” said Rajeev.

“Give me a minute–” said Samir, trying to re-charge his hard-light projector.

“I’ve heard about you boys,” said Sanjay, slowly stepping toward the hard-light projector on the floor.

“Don’t move!” Rajeev materialized a hard-light sidearm and kept it pointed at him. Sanjay stopped.

“So violent,” Sanjay tsk-tsked, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised given your… biological mother.”

“Samir–the teleporter–” Rajeev hissed to his brother.

“I’m trying,” said Samir, trying to position a new teleporter out the window on the opposite building.

“You said in and out!” said Rajeev.

“With the same teleporter!” said Samir, “The projector needs a cooldown before it–”

“And all that bickering…” Sanjay moved to take another step but stopped with Rajeev’s sidearm fixed on him, “If you were with Vishkar–why, you’d be two peas in a pod. That’s all Vishkar wants, for people to get alon-”

“We’re not listening to everything you have to say!” said Samir, looking out the window and trying to re-place the teleporter.

“And don’t try to call for backup, either!” said Rajeev.

“You kids,” said Sanjay with a chuckle, “Do you think I’m as stupid as the idiots who raised you on that filthy watchpoint? I called for backup as soon as I got the alert for this breach. I told her to hang back so we could have a dialogue but if you insist… Akasha?”

“Her?” Samir looked at Rajeev, “‘Her’ singular?”

The door behind Sanjay slid open and a feminine figure stepped in, clad in an iridescent black jumpsuit veined with glowing blue, with translucent bluish armor on her shoulders, and her face completely obscured by a black helmet with a glowing blue visor. In the blue glow, two dark eyes looked down at the twins with contempt. Two triangular protrusions like their mother’s own visor flanked the sides of the helmet.

“At your discretion,” said Sanjay, turning around and walking toward the door.

“Hey!” Rajeev fired his sidearm but the figure in black stuck out her arm and a hard-light shield formed instantaneously and absorbed the shot with a blue thrumming sound.

“Excellent catch, Akasha… What a shame Satya hasn’t been able to upgrade her technology to Vishkar standards since defecting,” mused Sanjay before heading out the door.

“Teleporterrr,” Rajeev hissed to Samir as Samir struggled with his hard-light projector. He kept up a suppressing fire but she kept up her shield and her advance towards them. No sidearm. Where was her photon projector?

“Five more seconds–I have the angle–” Samir started but Rajeev felt a tug on his ankle and glanced down to see a glowing blue tether wrapped around it. A taut blue line to a small white bar in Akasha’s non-shield hand.

“What–” He started before she pulled her arm back and his foot was yanked out from underneath him and he fell onto his back with a grunt. Samir was forced to turn his attention away from his hard light projector and lay down some cover fire from his rifle to Akasha as she now raced toward them, the blue tether retracted itself and shifted into a thicker, curved shape. She leapt at Samir but Rajeev stick his leg up and caught her stomach on his foot, knocking the wind out of her. She swung for Rajeev’s head but he brought up his hard-light shield to block the strike. Rajeev had the advantage of size and shoved forward with the shield, knocking her back. She snarled and lunged at him with the sword again. He was scrambling up from the floor and brought up his sidearm but with a swipe of her sword the sidearm dematerialized and he was forced to knock her back with the shield again before pulsefire from another angle caught her in the shoulder and she winced, stumbling back from Rajeev. Both backed a decent distance away from her, their breaths short.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Samir, looking down his rifle at her, “Vishkar isn’t what you think it is. Sanjay’s using you, just like he used our mom.”

“Yes, we know all about the traitor,” said Akasha, “And I was briefed on both of you. You’re both out of your depth here. If your mother couldn’t accept Vishkar’s vision years ago, you have no hope of having a place in the world now.”

“You say that, but it’s two on one and you brought hard-light knives to a hard-light gunfight, Chaka Khan,” said Rajeev, managing to reform his own sidearm and point it at her.

“It’s Akasha, you idiot,” she fired back before suddenly throwing her sword at him.

“Shit–!” Rajeev sidestepped the blade but rather than clatter to the floor, Akasha disappeared in a bluish-white flash and reappeared gripping the sword.

“Translocator sword?!” said Rajeev, “That is so cool–GAH!” he stepped out of the way of another slash from her.

“See!?” said Rajeev, blocking as she mercilessly slashed at him, “This–” he blocked a slash from her, “Is why I wanted to bring the team! Rei can sword fight!”

Samir was looking down his rifle’s sights, trying to get a fix on Akasha but she was darting around Rajeev so fast he had no way of firing without worrying about hitting his brother. Rajeev, not even looking at Samir, but knowing he would be trying to back him up, headbutted Akasha hard, dematerializing both of their hard-light helmets and hollered, “JUST GET THE TELEPORTER!”

“Right–” Samir said, his voice crowded out from his breath. He pivoted on his heel, his hard-light projector was prepped, all that really mattered was getting a teleporter far enough away that they could make a decent getaway.

Akasha stumbled back from the headbutt. With her helmet dematerialized, Rajeev finally got a good look at her face. Her skin was only a few shades darker than their own, her black hair cropped pixie short but sleeked off to the side.

“…you’re no older than us,” said Rajeev, and a sick feeling twisted in his stomach as Akasha just gritted her teeth in response.

Samir sashayed along the massive windows of Sanjay’s office before picking out the top of a nearby high-rise. He gauged the distance, activated his hard-light projector, and with a flourish of his hand, manifested the teleporter. “Rajeev!” he pivoted towards his brother once more, “Come on—!”

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. Rajeev and Akasha both turned toward him. Rajeev dealt a hard shield smash to Akasha, knocking her off her feet, then started sprinting towards Samir and the teleporter. Samir was bringing up his own rifle to cover their exit when Akasha, still mid-fall, threw her sword. At first Rajeev thought she was throwing the sword at him again, and dipped off slightly to the side to dodge it, but then he saw the sword was flying a bit too far off from him to really be aimed at him, and his eyes lit up with horror as he saw where the ownerless sword was headed. Samir barely brought his eyes down from his rifle’s scope when he saw the blade sailing just past his head. Then there was a blue flash, and Akasha reappeared gripping the sword right next to him, bringing it back in a swing–curved blade, fast blade– those near-black eyes unflinching as the blade came within two inches from Samir’s neck. Then suddenly WHAM Rajeev slammed into her from the side, his shield not protecting his face, his motive more about stopping her from completing the swing than anything that might happen to him, and she brought the blade away from Samir and swept it up at Rajeev in a panic at the impact.

Rajeev barely felt the blade hit. Sharpen any blade enough and you can’t feel it even when it slices your hand right open, and hard-light was light–he didn’t even feel the pressure of hair taut against the skin of his face before he felt the warm blood wetting the side of it. Samir, still experiencing everything in near slow motion, saw the droplets of blood falling away from Rajeev’s face, and his hands were moving on their own. Aim down the sights, exhale, fire. To his credit, he didn’t shoot her in the head–so much instinct was telling him to. He didn’t know what had happened to Rajeev, not 100%, but panic and fury were screaming at him to put Akasha down like a rabid dog–but he didn’t. He aimed at the sword in her hand. Disarm her. Get away. He fired. He hit the handle of the sword in her hand and she screeched and stumbled back from both of them.

Her iridescent suit started flickering.

“Rajeev–” Samir looked over at his brother. Rajeev had dematerialized his shield and both his hands were over the side of his face as he buckled over, moaning.

“What–what did you do?” Akasha’s voice floated over to them, scared. Samir didn’t think it was possible for her to sound scared. He looked up from Rajeev and saw her looking at her hands, distorting in front of her like an old VHS. “What did you do?!” Her suit was flickering. She was flickering. Samir looked at the broken sword handle on the floor, sporadically sparking. Her voice raised to a scream. “WHAT DID YOU D–” she disappeared in a blue-white flash, her voice still humming in the molecules of the air.

“Whuh–” Rajeev’s hands came away from his face bloody, “Samir–what-what just–”

“Let’s get through the teleporter,” said Samir, taking his brother by the shoulders and leading him over to the teleporter, “Let’s just get to the teleporter.”

They stepped through and were back out on a rooftop once more. Samir helped Rajeev ease down to his knees before he dematerialized the teleporter behind them.

“What–what was that?” said Rajeev, “Where did she go?”

“The sword must have been calibrated to her suit,” said Samir, “Translocators are kind of similar to teleporters…if you destroy them they’re just… destroyed, they don’t affect the user, but if Vishkar was jamming in a hard-light projector into the sword as well…” He wasn’t sure what he was saying. Rajeev’s face was bleeding, the bloody side of it obscured by loose hair. Samir didn’t want to look under the hair.

“But where did she go?” said Rajeev.

“I guess where people go when a teleporter malfunctions,” said Samir, “…supposedly it’s vacuum between teleporter gates so she might just asphyxiate or–”

Rajeev suddenly moaned and buckled over again.

“Let me see it,” said Samir, supporting Rajeev’s jaw in his hands, tucking his hair away.

“How does it look?” said Rajeev, “…I can’t see out of it right now.”

“…Bad,” said Samir.

“Like… good-bad?”

“Bad-bad.”

“I don’t like bad-bad,” said Rajeev, “I think adrenaline’s keeping most of the pain down now so… that’s good, but I don’t know how long I got until it starts really hurting so—”

“I–” The panic was finally bubbling up in Samir, “Rajeev–I am so sorry–I never meant for this–Mom’s going to kill us. Mom’s going to kill me. This was my idea. My fault. I didn’t want–You didn’t have to–”

“Hey–Hey—” Rajeev patted Samir’s shoulder and his hand padded at Samir’s jacket before pulling the data lamprey from it, “We got the blueprints. We got Mom’s work back. Your plan worked. We didn’t die. Mission accomplished.” He softly bonked his forehead against Samir’s. “Amari bros?”

Samir’s breath was growing short with sobs. “Amari bros–” he managed before breaking down.

#symmarah kids

13 notes · View notes

jeannereames · 5 years ago

Text

Love & War

A persistent, annoying, misogynistic delusion says women, and especially Romance readers (female or male, but especially female), can’t handle things like hard science fiction, political intrigue, and, especially, military matters. Our pretty little heads are incapable of understanding that “serious stuff.” All we care about are love affairs and fashion.

Hoo-boy, don’t get me started or I might skewer somebody. (Image at the bottom of the author with a sarissa.)

Funny story about SF author Catherine Asaro: she’s known for her hard-SF Romances, but what a lot of readers don’t know is she’s also Dr. Catherine Asaro, with a PhD in chemical physics from no less a school than Harvard. Some years back, on a now-defunct bulletin board, a male reader proceeded to try to mansplain how Asaro’s physics of space travel just wouldn’t work, and poor lady authors who want to write romance shouldn’t attempt a SERIOUS genre such as hard SF. Well, Dr. Asaro dropped into the convo, citing several of her own published articles in peer-reviewed journals, then proceeded to demolish fan-boy’s ignorant objections to her theories. It was a beautiful thing to behold.

Women do math and science, dammit—as demonstrated by my Kleopatra in the novels.

I don’t believe for one minute that women readers, as much as men readers wouldn't like to know a little about the military matters I describe in Dancing with the Lion, not just the hair and clothes (as I do detail in another blog).

When non-specialist modern readers imagine ancient Mediterranean armies, it’s usually the Roman legion that comes to mind. The Greek phalanx is similar…but not. A phalanx is a big rectangular block of infantry, usually 8-deep, that presented a “locked shields” front. Larger armies were made up of several phalanges (phalanxes) in a row. Armies were chiefly infantry as horses don’t do well in the rocky Greek south. So their armies had a lot of light troops, such as slingers, but little horse. Yet Greek infantry was legendary. These “Men of Bronze” were sought-after mercenaries in Ancient Near Eastern armies, and would famously rout the Persians at the Battle of Marathon despite being outnumbered. Southern Greek cities also had excellent navies, although Macedonia didn’t, so I won’t address navies here.

The infantryman, or “hoplite,” was armed with a big-ass round, convex shield covering him from chin to knee; a bronze helmet; and—depending on how much money his family had—a bronze breastplate or a cuirass of fused, tough, glued linen with girdle plates (as below); and maybe bronze greaves covering his shins. From the front, this presented a pretty solid defense. But if, in video-games, Greek soldiers all look alike, in truth, Greek armor varied a lot. Helmet styles differed vastly by region, and how much armor a soldier could afford also differed. Shield devices were personal (as in the image above). Put simply: THERE WAS NO ANCIENT GREEK UNIFORM. Individuality mattered. (Hoplite arming, image shows how the shield was held inside.)

Why the differences among real soldiers? They armed themselves; city-states didn’t provide equipment. So what they brought to the field was whatever they could afford. Also, the primary weapon of the Greek infantryman was the SPEAR, not a sword. Swords were secondary, used only after your spear broke. While Greek armies did have archers along with slingers and peltasts (javelin-men), Greek infantry viewed the bow as a coward’s weapon.

When Philip took over as king of Macedon, the army got a serious overhaul. First, Macedonia—unlike the south—had horses. In fact, prior Macedonian armies had been CAVALRY armies, with limited infantry. Philip reformed the infantry by lightening their armor and giving them the ultimate “pig-poker”: a 15-foot sarissa, or pike. It was about twice as long as a normal Greek spear, requiring one to wield it two-handed.

Then he shaped up the cavalry, arming them more heavily and deploying them in triangular “spear point” formations, which allowed them to shift direction quickly at a gallop. They carried the xyston, which wasn’t as long as a sarissa, but still formidable. Incidentally, ancient cavalry used neither saddles nor stirrups, only a saddlecloth.

This Macedonian sarissa phalanx became the ANVIL, while his heavy cavalry became the HAMMER. The Macedonian phalanx would engage the enemy, holding them in place on the battlefield, then Philip would send in his much more mobile cavalry to smash into the enemy flank or rear, tearing them to shreds. It worked. Over and over, it worked. Alexander took that formation strategy to Asia. It worked there too.

So when I describe military matters in Dancing with the Lion, now readers have a better visual image. And don’t let anybody tell you female readers can’t enjoy reading battle scenes, or that female novelists can’t write them.

The hell we can!

After all, the ancient Greeks paired the goddess of love, Aphrodite, with the god of war, Ares. And in the Ancient Near East? Innana/Ishtar was goddess of both, together.

(The modern image above belongs to Ryan Jones, a Calgary graduate under Waldemar Heckel. The sarissa I'm holding below is part of the on-going research of Dr. Graham Wrightson, USD, who kindly let me handle it, as I also teach an undergraduate capstone class as well as a graduate seminar on Greek military history. )

#Macedonian military #Macedonian history #Greek military #Greek hoplites #Dancing with the Lion #DwtL #sarissa #Alexander the Great #Philip II #Macedonian hammer and anvil #historical fiction #women write military history dammit #asks

26 notes · View notes

the-gunslock · 5 years ago

Text

Hiver 7 - Infinite

This is a story about reality and my meeting of the one who stands against those who threaten it.

“Honey? Amanda?”

The awoken woman called to the dark. No answer.

“Trinity?”

The little light never appeared. She looked around frantically.

“Selene! Reyla! ...Junko? Uh, Luna?”

The ground to her feet had begun to shift into a blocky, dull grey platform. The ambient around her had turned into a stone and metal room with rectangular, jagged edges. After a while of looking, she spots a dash of burnt blonde hair. Relieved, she runs to meet it.

“Amanda!” She says, ecstatic to see a familiar face, specially her lover’s.

But, to her dismay, no response.

“Honey?” She starts tearing up in desperation. She waves a hand in front of her face and snaps her fingers.

Nothing.

Then she reaches out.

Immediately she is met with a wall of intense solar energy that causes her to stumble backwards. As she regains her vision, she sees that the image of Amanda had burnt away and in its place…

Spun a Harpy. Not a common one -- its eye and shell glowed a bright, phased blue, and it was much larger. The Warlock had only heard dreadful stories about them, from Guardians more experienced than her.

Gorgons.

Vex constructs that patrolled a cave inside the Vault of Glass and held the power to define what is real or not.

Its bright, ice-blue eye gazed into Hiver’s soul as it started to give a deafening, almost pained, mechanically-filtered shriek and released pulsating red energy in all directions.

She was paralyzed. Tears started to roll down her eyes as she struggled to bring her hand to eye level, watching her body be deconstructed in white simulation particles.

Feeling like her existence was little more than… a nuisance. A speck of dust that needs to be sweeped away.

As she sobbed at the extinguishing light of this cursed creature, she started to hear a faint sound.

“..er.”

A voice? Couldn’t be.

“Ier.”

She had almost lost her entire body now. Fear overcame her as she felt the disintegration reach her neck--

“Hiver.”

The voice clearly said her name now, but she couldn’t do anything.

“HIVER!” The Shipwright’s husky voice called to her, with a load of worry on top of it. Hiver gasped awake to see Amanda’s face close to hers, her fingertips tapping against her cheek.

It’s sunrise. The light grazes the clouds with a soft touch, making the whole sky purple.

She rolled onto her back and brushed her hair out of her forehead, sobbing uncontrollably. Amanda softly wiped the tears from her nose and temples, sitting her up and hugging her tightly, trying to appease her crying.

“You’re okay, babe. Everythin’s alright.” She says, alternating it with soothing ‘shh’ noises with her mouth. Hiver is hiccuping so much she can barely breathe right, let alone say a word.

After reattaching her mechanical leg to her thigh, she takes her girlfriend’s hand and helps her stumble to the kitchen. The blonde sits her down on the island’s chairs and gets her a cup of water so she can normalize her breathing. While the Warlock gulps it down, the Shipwright stands beside her, caressing her hair. She tries asking her what she saw, knowing from her that Awoken tend to experience extremely vivid dreams.

Good or not.

Hiver started to tell the dream the best she could, trying to catch her breath and staring vacantly at the water cup.

“I… I-I was alone. Unknown place. It was… Vex built. cough I saw you, called out to you. You turned into… a… a Gorgon. I had to… sigh, stand still as… as it stared into me... and, and slowly deleted me from existence.”

Amanda hugs her from behind and smooches the top of her head.

“I…” Hiver blurted out, putting the cup down. “I felt... every second of it. And I heard your voice calling to me. Couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything. Not even say ‘I love you’. Or ‘goodbye’.”

Amanda sighs. “Babe, you ain’t in a simulation. You’re here, with me, where it’s safe. You ain’t gonna need to say goodbye. Okay?”

The Awoken girl opens a smile. “Okay.” She replies as she starts feeling better, and gets up to face her girlfriend. Both of them walk together to the bedroom.

“I might need proof of that, though.” She continues, sitting back on the bed. Amanda sighs, just wanting to use her precious hours of sleep.

“Hiver…” She says tiredly as they lie down again. “What proof do ya want? It’s like... 5 in the morning.”

Hiver giggles as she pulls the blanket over them both again. Her face close to Amanda’s once more, she blinks and puckers up for a second before going back to her calm grin. Getting the message, Amanda pulls her closer for a ‘sleep well’ kiss while caressing her hair once more, Hiver gently scratching her back under her tank top.

Both of them having relaxed, they happily drift off together once more. Hiver has an idea for what she’s doing the next day.

It’s now noon, and everyone is at their workstations. The Chief Shipwright is having difficulties understanding what happened to the Sparrow in front of her. It clearly had not been treated well, giving that most of its hull was missing and the engine metal was completely fried. Whoever used this was a worse pilot than Hiver, and it’s saying something.

Amanda was using a datapad to scan the ill-fated vehicle in front of her, trying to assess whether she could order spare parts to repair the thing, or if it would have to be scrapped entirely and sell the owner a new one. Either way, it wasn’t gonna be easy or cheap.

“My Light, why do Guardians always do the stupidest Sparrow stunts? They forget someone has to fix their mess?” She mumbles to herself while her stomach grumbles in anger. “Damnit. Guess I’ll just grab ramen real fast or something… I don’t know. Ugh, this job.” Luckily, her Guardian angel appears just at the right time, wearing her usual black duster, Black Armory boots and gauntlets, and big smile on her face.

“Amanda!” The Guardian called out, carrying a black, aluminium-like case by the handle in her hand, jogging towards the Shipwright.

“Hey darling, what’s up?” She greets before noticing the case she is carrying. “...What’s that?”

“It’s almost noon and I’m leaving for Mercury. So…” She starts, holding the case close to her chest before offering it to Amanda, and also taking a thermos out of her duster’s bag. “Brought you this.”

“Oh, thank ya! Have a safe flight there.”

Hiver kisses her on the cheek, whispering “love you, honey”, and walks off, transmatting into orbit, leaving Amanda with the case. Pulling up a chair and unlocking the side clasps, she finds out the case has three layers, one having a small case with a plastic lid and two large cases on top of each other.

The first one carries silverware and a little post-it note, and the other two carry two parts of a fresh meal. Spaghetti with bolognese sauce, vegetables and rice, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. She smelled the thermos she was handed which contained lemonade, still cold.

The note had a coupon for Spicy Ramen under it, reading: “Honey, treat yourself if I’m not back soon enough to make you dinner. I love you. ♥ - Hiver”

Hiver put everything there to get her girlfriend back on her feet for the workday. It made her blush and smile in fondness, but then she looked around to realize some of her workers and Guardians walking around the hangar had their attention captured by the girls’ little display of affection… drawing varied reactions from them.

“WHAT?!” She angrily bellowed at the meddlers, making them resume their jobs or disperse, before digging in on her lunch.

No matter what anyone thought, it definitely brightened up her day.

The Warlock touched down near the intimidating triangular gate where she had been months prior. She had hoped to never go in again, but her curiosity was deeper than her fear.

With a sigh, she stepped into the jagged hallway leading to the Infinite Forest and unformed her helmet.

“Trinity, can you reach Sagira?”

“A minute.”

The duo waited for a moment while Sagira didn’t pick up the message, Hiver trying not to regret this decision.

“Welcome, Guardian.” A smooth female voice came through the comms minutes after.

“Hey, Guardian-thief.” Trinity answered, eliciting a chuckle from the other Ghost. “My partner here is kind of having an existential crisis and could use some Osiris wisdom right now.”

“Sure. Step inside.”

A portal opens up in front of Hiver and her Ghost, and they go through it to find Osiris and Sagira sitting at a currently empty portion of the Forest. Mossy and levitating in the massive space between the planet’s mantle and core, replaced by Vex atmosphere and engines.

The old Dawnblade is inspecting his rifle’s magazines in order to pass the time as he waits, his attention caught by the Awoken Stormcaller who just stepped through the portal.

“Hello, Guardian.” He said sympathetically, his standing up motion rustling the many feathers in his armor. “What can I help you with?”

“Hello... Osiris.” Hiver greets back, unsure of where to start. “My name is Hiver. I came to Mercury to get your input on some concerns I’ve been having.”

“Careful, girl. If he wasn’t kicked out of the City for his prophecies, it would totally be for his terrible women skills.” Sagira replies, causing both Ghosts to laugh.

“Do not be concerned with her.” Osiris says, causing Sagira to pout. “Speak your mind.”

Hiver sits down on one of the stone blocks and gathers her thoughts. “I’m not the most eloquent of individuals, but I’ll do my best. See, I’m… afraid. Of the Vex. They haunt me whenever my mind decides to be cruel.” She starts fiddling with her fingers. “I’m a Guardian, sure, that is what’s nailed into my head since I came back. But also at some point I… realized I’m a person.”

Osiris listens intently, caressing his beard as he starts to piece together what the Warlock is trying to transmit.

“There is the “me” that is not a Guardian. She is building a life. She has… clanmates, she has friends, hell, just last week she got a girlfriend who makes her the happiest woman in the world. I love her so much, I love everyone so much but… but the Vex... and their space-time manipulation… make me wonder if this is all a hollow shell of a life.”

She punches the block near her thigh in frustration, slightly cracking it. Osiris starts to get up and puts his bird-shaped helmet on.

“I’m sorry, I… rambled too much.”

“How about a trial, Warlock?” He says, taking a strange device of three cubes with glowing runes of them, and rearranging them into a specific order. He gets an immunity barrier.

“Oh boy.” Sagira and Trinity state at the same time.

“Prepare yourself. It is a test of force of will.”

Trinity transmats back into nothingness. Hiver is tense, jumping down from her seat and putting on her helmet as Osiris rearranges the device once more, materializing Vex units on that part of the forest. She stands before them, ready to draw.

“Okay...”

Three Goblins raise their guns, and she fans her Ace’s hammer on their Radiolaria cores while running to her right for cover, spotting Hobgoblins on the platforms above. Gliding upwards, she intercepts more Goblins and a Harpy with her Arcbolt grenade, chaining lightning between them and disintegrating them all.

Dodging Wire Rifle shots from said Hobgoblins, she sees a Minotaur and more Harpies coming in her direction. Avoiding them, she climbs up the platform and slides while destroying their cores as well.

Switching to her Kindled Orchid to engage the Minotaur, she jumps down and rolls sideways to dodge its teleporting blow, immediately countering with shots from the void revolver, which shatter the heavy machine’s barrier and cause it to stumble backwards. Switching once more to her Hammerhead machine gun, the Warlock gunned down the remaining enemies.

“You face the final round.” Sagira states, imitating the missing warden of the Prison of Elders.

To the final round, a Hydra appeared, with its three immunity shields circling around it. It tried to hit Hiver with an energy wave, but she managed to float safely to the ground, circling around and unloading her machine gun’s belt at the eye of the menacing robot, which goes down in a spectacular fiery show.

She jumps back and holsters her weapons while the Hydra explodes in front of her. When everything is back to normal, Osiris floats back to the platform and Hiver removes her helmet.

“You perform exceptionally against the Vex.” He praises. “As such, I believe I have an idea as to why you are afraid of them.”

“Or, more precisely, why you aren’t.” Sagira elaborates, much to her confusion.

“I’m... not?”

“No. Sit down, Warlock, and I will explain.”

She obeys, sitting on the same stone block as before, reloading her weapons. Osiris clears his throat and begins his explanation.

“The Vex are terrifying creations. With their incredibly accurate simulations, they have made us question everything we believed we knew about time and space, and if reality is actually a linear concept or just a branch out of an eternally multiplying tree where every possible choice is happening simultaneously.”

Hiver starts getting visibly unsettled.

“But you wouldn’t be afraid of them if they were just the murderous proxies you find in the field. You can dispatch them very easily.”

“You love your girlfriend, right?” Sagira asks. Hiver nods. “You love your clanmates, you appreciate your allies, you care about your reality. You want it to be real.”

“Correct.” The Warlock confirms nervously.

“Then, your fear is not of the Vex, it’s of the possibility that you might lose all you love. Or, rather…”

“That what you are living right now has never been ‘real’ in the first place.” Osiris concludes.

Hiver is starting to tear up for the second time today as anxiety hits her once more. Osiris moves closer to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“A simulation is exactly that. A simulation. Imitation. Mimicry. It requires a model, a starting point. And more than hundreds of years studying and battling the Vex have shown that this is the model they are using. We are the start of their digital futures; everything else is mere extrapolation entertained by their stone-cold calculations and amoral what-ifs.”

He removes his hand and turns to face the blue-colored sky on the Infinite Forest. Sagira is using her shell’s pointy bits to try and wipe Hiver’s cheeks, careful not to hurt her. Trinity does the same.

“As much as I despise admitting it, the Light is the reason. The Traveler bears an unsimulable force, and the Vex have to circumvent this in every timeline they create. It’s very convenient to us. Our continued efforts and meddling have set them back from our reality.”

Osiris turns to her again.

“Does your emotion feel real? Can you feel the things you don’t want to lose?”

Hiver looks at him with a puzzled expression, turning her head to the right slightly. “Of course it does.”

“Then, to you, it doesn’t matter if there are alternate timelines or simulated realities.”

He pokes her forehead, eliciting a bit of a smile. “Your reality is here.”

Then he pokes her duster’s leftside collar, over her left breast. “And your affection is here. And it is as real as you’d like it to.” He backs down with his arms crossed. “Go home. Cherish all that you have, and don’t let fear prevent you from living how you see best. After all...”

He transmats his bird-shaped helmet over his head and pulls his red bandanna over his mouth. Then he picks up his rifle and loads it.

“If any Vex want to get to you, they do have to go through me.”

“They have tried infinite times, and failed just as many times. So I’d say it’s par for the course for you. And, by the way...” Sagira begins.

Hiver’s spirits have been lifted a tenfold since she came inside the Forest, and she’s ready to go on with her day. Osiris can feel the change in his fellow Warlock.

“Thank you two.” She sneaks in before she concludes.

“...You’re welcome. Damnit!”

Hiver laughs, Trinity sending a triumphant “Got you” Sagira’s way.

“Nice talking to you, Sagira.” Trinity bids her farewells. “Call us if you need some mess fixed.”

“Same to ya, Trinity. I’d love to know you two better. And give Amanda my cheers on finding such a cute girlfriend!”

“Congratulations on finding love, Guardian. If you ever need to find me again, you know where to find me.”

The Stormcaller giggles and blushes while turning to walk away through the portal.

“Wait.” She turns around again. “I never told you her name was Amanda.”

The two Ghosts trade looks for some seconds and vanish. Osiris lets out a hearty laugh.

“Goodbye, Hiver.”

“Bye, Osiris.” She said, relieved, as she stepped through the portal back to Mercury.

On her way to the ramen shop, Amanda receives a text message from Hiver.

“Going back home. You want to have ramen or eat at home?”

“Can we have both?” She replies with a cocky smile.

“Of course, I’m on my way. Love you honey ♥”

Amanda was eager to hear about whatever it is she went to do on Mercury. But whatever it was, it definitely helped her recover from her nightmare and put her in a lighter mood.

Both of them silently hope it stays that way.

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny warlock #destiny fic #oc x canon #hiver the gunslock #amanda holliday #osiris #sagira

7 notes · View notes

ariadnelives · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 -- The Train Robbery

[Welcome to the first chapter of Ariadne Lives! If you’re new to the series or you’ve just fallen a little behind, go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3]

Prologue - The Cult

“Rejoice!” the young girl in white robes shouted to a silent crowd from an ornate red and gold podium. Families, bored teenagers, and a few homeless people looking for a warm seat and some complimentary snacks had filed into a small banquet hall. Everybody had seen the pamphlets recently. Thousands had been handed out by the red-robed acolytes standing in a line behind the girl with the knowledge that if even one percent of the people who'd seen them decided to follow up, they'd have a substantial audience.

The young girl continued her sermon. “I have come to bring salvation to the Martian people! For too long we've lived in poverty, strife, and squalor! My entire life, I believed we were simply being suppressed and subjugated by the jackboot of the Homeworld Empire, but now I know that's not true! That was never the case! It's been precisely four years since we made our alliance with the Homeworld, and we're still suffering! Many of you in the audience tonight are struggling to feed your children, feed yourselves, just to stay alive, and why? This isn't a problem on Earth!”

Shouts of “hear, hear!” and “yeah!” rang out from the assembled audience.

“On Earth, all of the children are cared for. On Earth, everyone has enough to eat and a place to sleep. On Earth, no one ever has to suffer as we Martians have suffered!”

The crowd cheered again and many of them raised their drinks, although the symbolic gesture was somewhat undercut by the fact that everyone was drinking iced tea out of plastic cups.

“And who's to blame for this inequality?” she asked.

Of course, the real answer was “the rich.” Mars had been carefully cultivated over hundreds of years so that each bio-dome would be able to support the population of a mid-sized Earth city. There should be enough resources that a household could have as many as ten people, and all of them would have a room of their own, three substantial meals a day, and enough water both for all of their drinking, bathing, and cleaning needs.

However, unfortunately, one of the many things imported from Earth in the migration to Mars was greed.

There had been the pioneers, mostly scientists and laborers who had agreed to establish the new societies on Mars in exchange for a place in that society. Then, there had been the Wagoners.

In Martian slang, a Wagoner was an incredibly rich person who had “jumped on the bandwagon,” or simply waited until all the heavy lifting had been done, and then had used their fabulous wealth to buy a large plot of land and set up a lavish mansion in a Martian bio-dome to prove how hip and cutting-edge they were. The people who could afford to do this tended to become even richer, since their mansions were built on what was supposed to be farmland for cultivating and growing crops. This drove down the food supply and made the demand skyrocket, and who was left to meet that demand? The people who were already rich enough to have products imported from off-world. With their profits, they'd buy up more of the farmland and convert it into commercial developments where they could sell their imported goods until everyone in the bio-dome was totally dependent on them for food. Since they held all the wealth, anyone who wanted to buy their supplies would have to work for them to get it.

This was all irrelevant on Earth, where food replicators, universal housing, healthcare, and education had almost completely eradicated poverty. Of course, they could have given these resources to the Martian governments and allowed them to do the same for their people, but centuries of animosity and war generally take more than four years and an ceasefire treaty to overcome.

This was the real answer to “who's to blame for this inequality.” It was not, however, the answer the young girl gave.

“We suffer for one reason and one reason alone! The wickedness in our own backyards! Our forefathers claimed this land, they worked hard to turn it from a lifeless hellscape into a verdant paradise, and what do we give them in return? Laziness! Irreverence! A lack of regard for what makes a Martian!”

A few people in the audience seemed slightly confused, but there were a few people saying “amen” as well.

“We suffer because we have not devoted ourselves to the betterment of our home! I've devoted myself to helping each and every one of you. I've made it my duty to feed the homeless, take in the orphaned, and strike at the powerful taking advantage of the disenfranchised. Some have called my followers 'angels,' and I appreciate the comparison, but we are just doing our Godly duty. We've been put on Mars for a reason. We honor the Red God and we do his bidding every day. This is why we and we alone have found prosperity!”

A few people in the crowd moved to leave, but were gently encouraged to stay by the red-robed acolytes. Others seemed genuinely intrigued.

“So,” the young girl continued, “if you're pure of soul, if you want to do good by your Martian brothers and sisters, then join us, and through the Red God we will lead our planet to prosperity!!”

There was some genuine applause from the audience.

“Now, if we may, I'd like our acolytes, my angels, to lead us in a short prayer.”

The acolytes raised their hands in unison, palms facing the young girl, to reveal they each had the image of a spider drawn on their hands in a paint made from Mars' red clay.

“All hail our prophet. May the Red God bless his people and the one true vessel of his voice. Blessings be upon our planet and upon our savior. Hail Ariadne.”

***

“This footage was taken earlier today by NewMo News 7's own investigative reporter Solomon Cho,” a news reporter who was almost too attractive to be remarkable read out from a small television screen, pushing the still frame of the young girl into the corner of the display, “and appears to show a young girl identifying herself as local folk hero Ariadne recruiting members to a new cult. We lost contact with Cho shortly after receiving the footage, and he has not been heard from since. Whether this figure is the real Ariadne or simply an opportunist attempting to capitalize on the folk legend is unclear, but one thing we can—”

The television screen fractured as it was hit with an unopened soda can, freezing the image of the cult leader behind the cracks.

“That TV was an antique,” Pilar sighed, slinking down into the beanbag chair she was sitting on.

Her wife, the real Ariadne had knocked her own chair over out of rage when she stood to throw the can at the screen. “I want her dead, Spacebreather,” Ariadne growled, glaring at the image of the pale young girl with bleached hair who grinned as she was venerated by her followers. “Do you hear me?”

“I do,” Pilar sighed. She was usually the hothead in their relationship, but after a few years, she'd learned to keep a cool temper on the rare occasion Ariadne was the one to fly off the handle.

“Mátala,” Ariadne hissed, “I want her head.”

“Anything you say, querida,” Pilar said, “but for now, we've got work to do.”

Chapter 1-- The Train Robbery

***

“It's just, I've worked hard to build this identity for myself as Ariadne, you know?” Ariadne said into the radio in her pressurized helmet.

“I know,” Pilar said, floating behind her. They approached the freighter with a team of their stealthiest crew members, known around the ship as “the Whiptails,” though right now only Pilar could hear what Ariadne was saying.

“I mean, we're supposed to be like the old stories about outlaws who stick up for the little guys! Robin Hood never asked for anything in return!”

“Robin Hood also wasn't a real—I can't have this debate with you again right now.”

Pilar and Ariadne placed a small triangular device on the airlock of the freighter, and a moment later, the door hissed open. The Whiptails circled around towards the thrusters on the back of the freighter as Ariadne and Pilar slipped quietly through the hatch and sealed it back up behind them.

“Do you get what I'm saying, though? We worked for years to build up all that good will, and some fifteen-year-old white girl with too much time on her hands just steals it to feed her own ego?” Ariadne ranted on as the ship jerked to a halt.

“Good, the Whiptails are done with the thrusters,” Pilar mumbled, placing the triangular device on the inner seal of the airlock. “And do you really think she's the brains behind this operation?”

Ariadne shrugged. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, how many fifteen-year-olds do you know who can successfully create and lead a cult by themselves?”

They moved through the corridor, slipped into the back of the passenger hold as quietly as possible, and concealed themselves behind a row of seats.

“How many fifteen-year-olds do you know who can successfully create and run a piracy ring?” Ariadne whispered.

“Fair point,” Pilar whispered back. “You ready?”

Ariadne nodded. “Yeah. Te amo, azúcar.”

“Te amo, mi tesora.”

They both drew their pistols and stood up.

“ALL RIGHT, NOBODY MOVE!” Ariadne shouted, startling just about all of the passengers in the freighter. “BE COOL, THIS IS A ROBBERY. OUR OPERATIVES HAVE DISABLED THE THRUSTERS, SO THIS SHIP ISN'T GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL WE GET WHAT WE WANT.”

“WE DON'T NEED ANYBODY TO GET HURT,” Pilar added. “BUT DON'T TEST US. IF ANYONE TRIES ANYTHING, THEY'LL BE DEAD BEFORE THEY HIT THE GROUND. DON'T EVEN SAY A WORD. ¿ESTÁ CLARO?”

Of course, this was a bluff. Both women knew it was sometimes necessary to shed blood, but the authorities were much more likely to prioritize murderers over thieves, so the crew had been trained not to kill when knocking someone unconscious would get the job done. Their pistols were actually devices called soul-stealers, which sent out a psychic pulse triggering the part of the human brain that makes a person fall asleep. Bystanders would think they were dead, but by the time they roused, Ariadne's Angels would be long gone.

“We want you to know why you've been targeted,” Ariadne announced. “The fall of the Homeworld Empire has triggered a new wave of wagoners—that's you folks—coming from Earth trying to make a quick buck off the 'untapped market' on Mars. You want to put a Shop-n-Go Grocery or a Carmine's Caffeination Station or a LazLabs TechStop on every corner, because you can afford to undercut the prices of Martian vendors.”

Pilar continued the speech they'd rehearsed six times the day before. “We Martians have to grow the food we sell, craft the clothes in our stores ourselves, make our tech durable because we don't have the resources to simply replace it when it breaks. The companies you run have replicators; your sales are pure profit. We have actual expenses for our businesses.”

Ariadne picked up the speech again. “See, the Martian people don't want you on their planet. That's why they've blocked your attempts to teleport to the surface. So you corporate fatcats all get together, load everything you need to set up shop onto a big freighter, and figure you'll just fly right to the surface and move into the city like a bunch of hermit crabs!”

“You dummies shouldn't have all gotten onto one freighter, is what she's saying,” Pilar said, “because now we only have to make one trip to steal all your shit.”

“So, fast as you like, get into the escape pods,” Ariadne ordered. “You'll be heading back to Earth, and we'll be taking this freighter with us. Please leave your wallets, purses, and any jewelry or accessories so expensive that you need insurance for it on your seat before you leave.”

“Form an orderly line and nobody needs to get shot,” Pilar called back to the passenger hold. “Whiptails, show our guests to their ride.”

Six girls, all in their mid-teens and holding guns like Pilar and Ariadne's, emerged from the shadows, causing several of the terrified business executives to jump in their seats. All three dozen execs had guns shoved in their backs, and filed towards the escape pods.

Once they were all in a pod, Ariadne turned to the oldest of the Whiptails, a Chinese girl with a gelled pompadour who'd earned the name “Sweettalk” because her incredible charisma allowed her to charm just about anyone. “Is the crew taken care of?”

“Yeah Cap,” Sweettalk replied. “Two pilots, a chef, and a bartender. They volunteered to be tied up so they don't get fired for cooperating with us. Smart group. They're in the pods. I took down their addresses. They'll be receiving an anonymous monetary gift taken from the profits of today's job.”

“You rock my socks, sugar.” Ariadne smiled. “Oh! I almost forgot! Is there an intercom that lets us talk to the people in the pods?”

Pilar rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Yeah, why?” Sweettalk asked, gesturing at a small microphone next to the hatch.

“She's going to tell them that—”

Ariadne interrupted her by shouting directly into the microphone. “TELL PEOPLE IT WAS ARIADNE'S ANGELS WHO ROBBED YOU!”

“Strange thing to do in a robbery,” Sweettalk muttered.

“Let her have it,” Pilar sighed and muttered back.

“THE REAL ARIADNE. NOT THAT FAKER FROM THE NEWS,” Ariadne shouted into the mic.

“Oh,” one of the younger Whiptails, a 13-year-old black girl named Taryn, said to Sweettalk. “I was hoping she wouldn't hear about that until after the mission.”

“You and me both,” Sweettalk replied. “I'm willing to bet that's why the TV in the lounge is broken.”

“That TV was an antique,” Taryn sighed. Another of the Whiptails, a quiet girl named Ghostrunner whose face was so regularly obscured by her black hoodie that most of the crew didn’t actually know what she looked like, laughed quietly at this.

The escape pods began to detach from the ship and drift back towards Earth.

Ariadne kept yelling, “YOU TELL THEM THAT GIRL IS AN IMPOSTOR, DO YOU HEAR ME?”

“I'm sure Ariadne and Fastwing can fix it up good as new,” Pilar said flatly. “Oh, for Christ's—Ariadne. They're gone. They left. They’re way out of range. They can't hear you anymore.”

“Ugh,” said Ariadne, “I guess you're right. Come on, let's take this ugly freighter home. This is a big score. Maybe finding something useful in the cargo hold will help me shake this lousy mood.”

“Like a new TV?” Sweettalk muttered. Taryn laughed.

“Please don't instigate,” Pilar sighed again. Ariadne was perhaps the one person she knew who was more stubborn than her, and she would undoubtedly be the one tasked with improving Ariadne's bad mood.

“Bring us back to the station, Spacebreather,” Ariadne snapped. “Sweettalk, Taryn, I want you to scour this ship, find me whatever snack foods have the words 'cheese' or 'blast' anywhere on the package, and bring them to me for the ride home.”

#core story

76 notes · View notes

goldstonegolem64 · 6 years ago

Text

Hope returns Book 1 Chapter 33 Vanguard part 1

forty five minutes earlier above Olkarion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9HJV1Ben6k

A volley of ion cannons fire follow passed by the Castle of lion’s as it was flying away at it’s top speed as it’s particle barrier started to surround the ship as it dashed away from the fleet of galra warships and thousands of fighters that were chasing after it. In the bridge Of the Galra Central Command Zarkon Watched as the Castle of lions slingshot itself into a wormhole That had just appeared. Fury started to build in him as he watch his prize was about to escape him again. He watched as the ship Flow into the wormhole and out of his grasp again . He slammed his firsts into his Throne and let out A huge roar of Anger then Yelled “Find them Now !!!!” He Yelled to his suburbanites. He closed his Eyes And focused on his connection to the black lion But with each passing minute it grow weaker and weaker“ My Lord” A voice broke his concentration HE opened his eyes and glared at the person who was in front of him.Which was Haggar

“ What have you come to tell My dear” Zarkon asked

“Project nemesis and Cyclone Are ready at your Command My lord” Haggar replied “

“Good when we corner them I want the twin’s to bring me voltron”

“And what of the planet the just freed my I test out the cyclone and let Root rot have his fun?” She Asked

“ No we will come back at a late date are main priority is capturing Voltron and The Valkyrie “ Zarkon replied

“ But if we leave this planet free it will give them time to build up a defense and could call to one of the many reel cells out there for help.” Haggar said

“ Yes that could happen but we will deal with that once we have voltron and the Valkyrie in are hands then we will crush anyone left that stands against us. Now we most head to down to the quintessence extractor ” Zarkon replied as he go up from his throne

Haggar felt anger starting to build up in her and she felt a surge of energy in her hands.But she calmed herself down before she unleashed her fury on her husbands and everyone else here.“Will you at least send a small fleet to handle this problem while we chase after them then”? She asked As she and Zarkon started to walk out of the bridge

“ If it make you happy I will” Zarkon said

“ it would my lord “ She replied.

“ My lord who do you want to send to conquer this world?” a soldier asked

Zarkon turned and looked at the soldier and though about it before talking” Send Sub commander Helner it’s time for her to prove herself. ” Zarkon said

“ Alright Sir “ The soldier replied as Zarkon and Haggar left the room

in the Hall the Zarkon and Haggar walked toward the elevator. As they walked passing by Soldier and druids stopped and saluted the two of them as they passed by. They entire the elevator then they started talking

“ So how are doing after your Altercation with the black paladin?” Zarkon asked His wife

It Had been about several days since she had fought the black paladins an she still felt pain in her stomach.It didn’t help that she had only a minutes after the fight fired a huge bolt of energy that corrupted the wormhole that the paladins were using to escape which felt her bed ridded to recover. “ I Am fine my lord how are you after your fight with the red an black lion?” She asked

“ It will take more then a plasma bolt to kill me my love“ Zarkon replied

Haggar stumbled a little after hearing those words she quickly righter herself. it felt weird every time she heard him say that to her but it was nice to hear it though. “ So who will you have pilot the other lion’s and the Valkyrie when we capture them and what will happen to their current pilots?”

“ Seeing how strong The black paladin was after you experimented on him. I will leave them to you and when it comes to pilot’s for the other lion’s I don’ t have a clue but for the Valkyrie I think I will bring him back to the fold.” Zarkon said

“ I don’t think that’s not a wise choose what if he use the Valkyrie against you” Haggar said .Zarkon when quite. She knew it hurt him to hear that because it hurt her to say it but it was true yell it need to be said .

“ if he tries I will kill him like anyone who has tried to kill me before .” Zarkon replied as the door to the elevator open to the quintessence. They both walked out of the elevator and watched as a tank of quintessence was being loaded into the rejuvenator that had kept them both alive for the pass ten thousand years

“Let’s get this over with “ Haggar said as other druids Appeared in the room.

On Olkarion Ryner was watching the Galra central command from their forest base readying themselves for an invasion

“ What are they doing?” Ryner Said to herself as she watched the screen. Something felt weird about this. She had tried to contact the paladin but it seemed that the Galra central command had some sort of Signal jammer that blocked any signal to and from the planet. But there was one plus with have galra central command hovering over her planet and that was She was able to Scan the entirety of it for structural weaknesses which she had found only and that was a small section that was under repair but that was heavily guarded.” This was bad this was bad very very bad for us. But we still had the cubes that are being reprogramed but that would take to much time but maybe if we focuses on one of the four we can get it back up and running and that could buy us more time to get the other three up and maybe just maybe we could stand a chance against the empire. Slim as it maybe it’ ” Ryner said to herself as she paced back and fourth. As She was brain storming the defensive of her world. She turned back to the screen and Saw that the entirety Of central command and it’ s fleet was gone expect for one warship. Ryner Hit a button on the console in front an activated the bases Alarm systems worrying any olkari in the area that an invasion was about occur again.

On the bridge of the warship Helner Stood there Smiling. “ This is great My first planet to conquer. Alright Man Lets man are empire proud!!!!” Helner yelled As she pointed her fingers towards The planet in front of them.

“UUuuh Madam there seems to be a wormhole opening up near by” A soldier said as he look At the console in front of him

“ Show it on screen” Helner said as her face turned from joy to a more serious look . As a screen appeared in front of the room.” Maybe Voltron doubled back. Ready the Ion cannon ,” She watched the screen and what she saw confused her. It wasn’t the normal blue circle with Altean symbols around it That she was told to watch out for. But this wormhole was a dark green, it was triangular in shape and the symbols around it were of a completely different race. “ Get all fighters ready have them surround and fire on whatever comes out of that wormhole and contacted central command.” She said not moving her eyes from the screen.As she watched the screen intently

As the upper half of a huge humanoid form seemingly crawled out of the it dwarf Voltron in size and as the rest of body came out it was clearly over eight hundred feet tall. It was rusted with a faded blue, red and bronze color too it . it’s body was also covered in vegetation that was weirdly preserved in the vacuum of space. It’s armor and helmet looked like a Conqueror from ancient times and had a tree growing out of the side of it’s head . It had pieces of it’s armor missing and it showed exposed wires and gears. She watched as the colossus looked from side to side confused then she watched it look towards the planet and started moving towards it unaware or just not caring about the Fleet that near by Helner looked toward her subordinate and yelled “ Somebody shot that thing before it Gets away “

“ Yes ma’am. To all fighter open fire on the colossus” As the soldier said that al the fighter started opening fighter

The bridge crew watched as a wave of red bolts flow through space towards the colossus but before the bolts could hit a green Barrier appeared blocking all the shots.

The colossus turned to face what had shot at them. the slits where eyes would be started to light up with the color green as that happen it raised both of it’s hand and open then to show off it’s palms. After that the metal plate on the palms started to split appeared to revel a glass like material that started to glow the same color as the eyes. After a few seconds Two huge beams erupted from the colossus’s hands. the two beams utterly atomized and fighter that was caught in it and Any fighter that was too close was basically melted of just explode from the intense heat that the beams were emulated.

Helner watched as her fleet was being decimated by the colossus ‘s beams as it wiped it’s hand in there direction “ Get the shields up now “ She yelled as the ships barrier surrounded the ship just in time to block the beam But the blast from the beams meeting the barrier rocked the ship. knocking Helner to the ground. When she got back to her feet she saw that the ship’ s barrier was down. She then notice that the colossus had stopped firing and was seemingly venting steam from it’s arms as the steam stopped coming out. the colossus started moving toward them.” Fire the ion cannon !!!!” She yelled as the ion cannon fired. but it was stopped the colossus’s own barrier so the colossus kept advancing towards them “ Call for reinforcements “ She yelled as the ion cannon fired again still it had no effect on the Colossus as it’s barrier stopped the shot

“ Were trying but they’re but no one is responding “ One soldier said as they franticly started hitting buttons on the panels in front of them.

“ try harder Dammit ” Helner yelled as the Ion cannon fired again this one slammed directly in the colossuses causing a huge cloud of smoke that obscured her view of the colossus. But as she was looking into the smoke cloud a huge hand came out of it and grabbed onto the bridge. Helner eyes widened as she watch the glass around the bridge begin to crack and the sound of metal being bend. Fear entered her body followed by nothingness as the bridge was crushed.

Ryner watched as the colossus crushed the bridge of the ship with no effort what so ever. Then she watch as a green barrier started to surround both the destroyed warship and the colossus and that was followed by a grey cloud that come out of the holes in the armor as the cloud was coming out it moved over to the war ship. Ryner guess that the cloud was made up of nanites. She watch intently as the warship was being assimilated into the cloud Nano and after a few minutes the only thing that remained of the warship were dropship that had what was left of the crew, After it was done the cloud started to completely surround the colossuses and after a few more minutes the nanite cloud dispersed to reveal that the colossus’s new look. the armor and Helmet had changed to look like Law bringer’s. the colors had changed too. it was no longer a fade red blue and bronze. It had changed to a bright purple as the base color and the bronze had outlined symbol on the body that be covered up by the vegetation there were ten symbols across it’s armor. Ryner wondered what those symbols meant so she started to scan the symbols to see what they meant and also scanned the colossus to see what it was made of.But before she could start scanning the colossus. Another wormhole appeared in front of the colossus and she watched as it flow through it. As she did the door to the room she was in open an two other olkari ran in .

“Lady Ryner the first cube as been reprogramed and is ready to fight ” the first Olkair said huffing and puffing

“it won’t be needed” Ryner replied

the two olkari looked at each other confused “ Why is that lady Ryner ?” the first one asked

“isn’t there a fleet invading right now?” the other asked

“ Not anymore “ Ryner began to walk out of the room “But even if were not being invaded Keep working on reprograming the other three Cubes we might need them for whatever I just watch destroy that Warship” Ryner said as she pointed towards the screen as it replayed the whole fight between the Colossus and the Galra fleet.

in the middle of space over a huge dust vortex

a badly damaged Valkyrie and Voltron were surrounded by warship and fighters ready to fire on the as well as Two new robeasts One was the size of the Valkyrie and looked similar to her but it had looked like a griffin look to it and the other was the same size as Voltron and was build like a tank it had to should mounted cannon four arms each one held a different weapon. Both of the robeasts had Harlequin masks with huge sharp toothed smiles painted on.

“ So How do you think were getting out of this one Guy” Jay said as he wiped sweat and blood from his forehead

“ I don’t know but will think of something.” Lance said

“ Coran, Allura,Beau how long until the flux generator is ready? “ Hunk asked as he removed his cracked helmet

“ It will only take a few more minutes so just Hold out till were ready” Coran said

“ Well if we don’ t hold out till then it be fun fighting along side you guys and it’ s been an honor serving you Princess Allura and take care of the for boys for me .” Jay said as he readied the Valkyries bow and pointed at the bigger of the two Robeast

“ It won’t come to that . Now get ready for what this two do next “ Shiro said

But before anything could Happened warning signs appeared a cross ever sceen on ever ship as a bright green triangular wormhole appeared in-between the four mechs as the upper body of the Colossus came out and looked toward both Voltron and the Valkyrie.

To be continued

8 notes · View notes

realityhelixcreates · 6 years ago

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 8: Don’t Kick That One Out

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up

Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet)

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Andsvarr

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Loki is Educational, Andsvarr is a Fanboy, Loki is Considerate, Brunnhilde Ships It

Summary: Loki is a Responsible Prince, who makes an effort to keep mistakes from repeating. Loki is a Responsible Prince who teaches Reader further in the the ways of history and magic. Thor and Brunnhilde have taken notice of how much of a Responsible Prince Loki is trying to be.

You awoke from dreams of other worlds to be faced with another tasty breakfast and a new set of clothing. You really hoped it was Saldis or Roskva bringing your clothes now, as there were various underthings among them that the men that were suddenly in your life simply did not need to know about. There were also some aspects of your new garments that you weren’t entirely sure on how to go about wearing, but you’d be hanged before you went to ask Loki to help you dress yourself. You were not a child; you didn’t need anyone’s help to put your own clothes on, least of all his.

The dark green dress was easy enough. It was somewhat shapeless, soft and comfortable, but clearly not new. There was wear in the shoulder and neck areas, and the hems and sleeves had clearly been shortened to fit your stature. They’d hidden the hasty alterations with a wide black ribbon, woven with a dark yellow braid pattern. Somehow, the fact that it wasn’t brand new made you more comfortable with wearing it. It would be so much easier and cheaper for these already busy people to simply recycle old clothes for you.

The loose drawstring trousers and thick socks that went under the skirt were very welcome. Your feet had been cold since yesterday, and there was no rug on the floor of your room.

You noticed with some surprise that your apron from work had been altered with decorative ribbon as well, and was clearly meant to be worn with the rest of the ensemble. You had seen some people out in the encampment who had been wearing overdresses that looked a bit like aprons. Maybe the Asgardian clothiers had though that’s what your apron was. You put it on like you always did. You’d grown so used to wearing it. Now it looked so lovely, with its simple ribbon addition, it was like you’d never seen it before.

Now you were confronted by the objects you weren’t as sure about. A braided yellow and green sash that you sincerely hoped was a belt, because that was how you were wearing it. A triangular piece of cloth that you thought might be some kind of mini cape. It looked warm and fluffy, and Loki had said he’d get you a coat. Maybe this was the best he could find? It draped over your shoulders easily enough.

There was a pair of oval pins, decorated with knotted snakes, a length of yarn braid strung between them. They were obviously meant to be worn as a connected whole, so you held them against various parts of your body, trying to guess where they looked best. You settled for pinning them to your sash belt. A pair of fingernail clippers and a tiny, cylindrical sewing kit with a single needle and spool of thread wrapped around a toothpick inside, both hung from short chains attached to hooks. You hooked them through the braided belt, tied the warm shawl around your shoulders, and stepped out into the library.

Loki was there, nibbling on some toast, leafing through a yellowed journal filled with odd-looking runes; like lines with tally marks on them. He seemed to be attempting to transliterate them into his own runes, in his notebook.

“What do they say?” You asked. Could you learn to read these things?

“They are descriptions of an artifact the writers were searching for. It had been used against them in war, and they believed it had been left behind when their enemies withdrew. They never found it.”

“Who were they?” You wondered. “I’ve never seen writing like this.”

“How many kinds of writing have you really seen?” Loki asked, slight mocking in his tone. You, who are poor and uneducated, how much could you know? Was that what he meant?

“Well, I’ve got the internet.” You pointed out. “I’ve at least seen words, even if I couldn’t read them.”

“Very well then, from where does this come?” He scribbled a few letters.

“I think that’s Greek? I can’t read it.” His pen moved again. “An Asian language. Probably Chinese? I can’t read that either, and I’m not good at telling them apart. I just know there’s a lot.”

“And these?”

“Those are the same runes you always use. So…Viking, I guess?”

“They are Asgardian in origin.” Loki explained. “Brought here and taught to the ancestors of your people, likely at about the same time this writing was.” He tapped the yellow page, with its strange, stick-like runes. “But these are not the same as what humans came to use. Humans did not learn Asgardian, they simply adapted our writing to their own purposes. Your kind is very good at doing things like that.

But this writing did not catch on as well as ours did. It seems to have disappeared and resurfaced several times over the centuries. That’s simply to be expected, I think, because the originators of this language, the Alfar, are a rather aloof people, and so their customs simply didn’t travel as far as ours did.”

He finally looked up at you, and another almost-smile tugged the corners of his mouth.

“You nearly got it right.” He said, almost praising. Then he casually reached out and unfastened the pair of pins from your belt. You made a startled sound, stepped back, but he bid you stay still while he re-pinned them in their proper place; at the shoulder straps of your apron. Your face burned at the closeness, and at the fact that you hadn’t known how to wear simple jewelry, and you looked away.

This sparked some amusement in him. “You want to look proper when I parade you out in front of the guards, don’t you? You know, when I tell them all ‘hey, you know that obvious human that’s been following me around? Don’t kick that one out’.”

You brightened right up at that. You would get to meet some new people, and see more of the building. You had grown familiar with Loki’s rooms, and with the medical area, but other than that, you had no grasp of your surroundings.

How tiny your world had become.

Evidently there had been word of your coming. The yard outside the guardhouse was stuffed full of people in full armor and horned helmets. They were lined up in flawless order, each with a spear, and a beautiful round shield. They looked ready to take on anything.

“Gotta admit.” You whispered to Loki. “I’m super impressed.”

“It doesn’t take much, does it?” He quipped, then quickly raised his hand to shush you. “This is but a tiny remnant of the force we could once field. While it’s likely we won’t need a great army any time soon, it’s still a mere shadow of what we used to have. Almost half of them are new recruits as well. Not fully trained. It takes more than armor to make einherjar, _____.”

“They didn’t…they didn’t come back? After you set the universe right?”

He shot you a quick glance.

“I mean all of you.” You amended. He hadn’t even been there. He’d been dead.

“They died before all that, I’m afraid, not because of Thanos. And this is all that’s left. They aren’t wasted though. Rather than battle, they are dedicated to the protection of the city and the people. And now you.”

People gathered in the street as Loki stood before the neat rows of guards, and addressed them in a ringing voice that filled the area. You couldn’t understand, but he placed his hand on your back and pushed you forward, and you heard your name among the flow of words. Knowing why you had come in the first place helped you get the gist of what he was saying.

Of course, he could be saying any kind of insulting thing, and you wouldn’t know. The guards-Einherjar-wore helmets that entirely covered their faces, and could betray no expression, and when you turned to the people gathered on the sidelines, you saw only a mix of adoration and distaste. It seemed Loki was a figure controversial even among his own people.

Or perhaps that disapproval was aimed toward you; a stranger, a human, standing at the side of their prince.

“Hold out your hand.” Loki ordered. “Let them see the mark, so they can recognize that, even if they do not remember your face.”

You held your hand up high over your head so they could all see.

“And if any of you were looking for an excuse to learn more Midgardian languages, may I suggest the challenge of English? For it is all she speaks, I’m afraid. You are all dismissed to your duties.”

With the dismissal, most of the guards left, either to their patrols, or back into the guardhouse. Some removed their helmets to converse with each other. The young guard from Loki’s rooms approached with a small smile.

“Yuu, stae?” He asked shyly.

“Yes.” You told him. “For some time, at least.”

“Guud. So I will…” He trailed off, looking for words, speaking to Loki with a searching tone.

“Ah. Andsvarr here wishes to convey to you his dedication to your personal protection.” Loki said, lips pursing in clear amusement. Andsvarr continued speaking. “He considers it an honor to see to the well-being of the first human resident of Asgard.”

“Oh. Uh, can you tell him that I appreciate his efforts?”

Loki obliged, and the young guard-Andsvarr, you would remember-beamed brighter than his armor. He was called away by another guard, whom you assumed must be his superior.

“No doubt you’ll be able to convey your appreciation without my help soon enough.” Loki said. “He’s proven to be a fast learner.”

“Are humans considered exotic or something?” You wondered. “Because the whole world is full of us. We aren’t exactly rare.”

“Oh, that’s not exactly it. There are a set of Asgardian that isn’t terribly fond of humanity as a concept. And then there is a set that wishes to adapt to our new circumstances as quickly as possible and, perhaps hastily, has decided to welcome humans with open arms. Andsvarr is one of the latter, but he comes from a family that is the former. And so he has embraced this new life with extra vigor.”

“Oh. Is that why you don’t allow any other humans in? Because some of your people don’t like us?”

“There are several reasons.” He offered you his arm, which you slowly and hesitantly took. You’d only seen that gesture in fairy tale movies. “Most of the area is a construction site. You don’t just let random people onto construction sites, do you? Why?”

“It’s dangerous.” You answered obligingly as he led you away, carefully avoiding areas where large amounts of dust were being kicked up. “People who don’t know what they’re doing could get hurt. Okay, that’s fair.”

“And maybe not every human in that camp out there is what they say they are. We have enemies. I have enemies, for what I’ve done. Thor has enemies, among the less kind of your species. And of course, there are the humans who feel threatened by outsiders, or who are jealous, or who are violently opposed to the theological questions we represent. Any such person could prove dangerous to us. Harm our citizens, or sabotage our work.

Also, at the risk of sounding dismissive, worshippers and admirers are simply too much trouble for now. While the prospect of worship is gratifying, we have so much to do at this point in time that we simply cannot have unvetted people running around underfoot. This is all for their safety, as well as ours. And yours. Just because the guards know who you are now doesn’t mean you can go wandering off wherever you want. Most of us have no idea how fragile Midgardian bodies are, compared to our own. There is still too much potential for an accident.”

That was annoying. The prospect of being cooped up all the time was driving you nuts, and it hadn’t even happened yet!

“Maybe you should put me in some of that armor.” You joked. He pretended to be mulling it over.

“You couldn’t even put those brooches on correctly.” He teased. “I can’t expect you to even know what a ‘pauldron’ is, much less how to wear it.”

You huffed. “All right, fine. I don’t know what that is. But you could show me, and then I would.”

“How about I show you more magic instead?” He offered. Part of you was elated. Magic was amazing! But the other part remembered the day before just a bit too vividly. Magic was also frightening.

“Can we not do what we did yesterday?” You asked. “That kinda fried my brain.”

“We are going to have to continue with the experiments, I’m afraid. But you won’t come to harm.”

The courtyard he led you too was lovely, and would be even lovelier, once it was finished. Loki had blankets and bread brought out and sat you down with him, like you were having a nice picnic. He took your hand and spread out your fingers.

“Did it hurt yesterday?” He asked, fingertips brushing the brand. It tickled.

“Well, not exactly. Not pain. Or not what I call pain. It was just too much, that’s all. It was like all the things that come with pain, without the pain part?”

He nodded slowly. “The power is probably circumventing your pain receptors altogether. That might be an involuntary defense mechanism, allowing your body to redirect the magic through the least damaging channels. Possibly partially converting or absorbing it?” He was barely speaking to you at this point, more like he was simply thinking out loud. “Definitely using a portion of it somehow, to maintain health through our closeness.”

Closeness indeed. You were both out in the open, for all to see, sitting cross-legged together on a blanket, heads close, holding hands. Anyone who saw you would get the wrong impression. How could they not?

“Will you let me join with you again?” He asked. You flinched. Did everybody in this city need to work on their phrasing? It seemed he mistook your expression, quickly adding, “I will not let there be a repeat of yesterday, don’t worry. We will be careful.”

“Geez. I guess so. What is the goal though?”

“Like yesterday, I want you to try to push the energy back down. Try to push it into me, through the link. You won’t hurt me, so push as hard as you like.”

You spent several hours practicing and experimenting with moving the energy back and forth. It was truly exhausting, for all that you never even moved from that spot. Loki explained the fatigue as being like exercising a whole new set of muscles that you had never used before, and it certainly felt like it.

When it got too much, he would let you take a break, leaning your head against his shoulder so you could wolf down the bread, while he slowly stroked your shoulders and back. The familiarity of it put you on edge. You wanted the comfort very badly. The past few days had been very stressful, and all you’d been able to do was let it sweep you along. You wanted someone to hold you for a moment, but you weren’t really sure you wanted it to be him. You didn’t have anyone else in mind, but he was, in some part, the center of half a year of suffering, and responsible for uprooting you from everything you had ever known, and setting you adrift. Even though he had vowed to take responsibility for it all, you weren’t sure you wanted it to be him.

When you resumed, the energy was easier to handle, and you could work a bit longer before weariness took over. You thought it must be because you were less tense for the work of his hands. He worked you until you couldn’t do anymore, until you movements trembled and your words came slow and thick, then he lay you down on the blanket to sleep while he compiled his notes.

It was evening before you awoke to Andsvarr calling softly through the door that it was dinnertime. You rolled out of bed to brush your hair and smooth your clothes-which you were very glad to find still on. You grabbed the pad of paper Saldis had left for you and scribbled ‘English Language Books’ for her to find.

Dinner felt awkward. Loki was still being casually tactile, and everyone seemed to notice but him. You probably should have said something, but for all the sleeping, you were still tired, still letting yourself be swept along.

When you were escorted back to bed, you fell right back asleep, and found yourself dreaming of golden spires and flying ships.

*****

“Loki, may I speak to you?” Thor asked. Loki could hear concern and confusion in his voice. What was it this time?

“And what have I done to perturb you now brother? I do believe I have behaved myself adequately, at least for a few hours or so.”

“You’re getting pretty handsy with that woman.” Brunnhilde pointed out, punching his arm lightly. “Good for you.”

“It’s not like that!” He insisted. “Touch stabilizes the energy within her. It allows her to push herself further, to remain strong for longer, and mitigates magic fatigue. Bjarkehild, you know, the head healer? We all found this out together.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you put up such a fight.” She teased. “Oh no, I’ve got to get all cuddly with the cute little mortal girl, whatever shall I do?”

Loki heaved a martyred sigh. “Not you too.”

“What?” Brunnhilde shrugged. “She’s cute. Whatever. You lucked out.”

“I am bound against my will to a magical dilemma, which has forced me to bring mayhem into an innocent woman’s life.” He said gravely. “Luck has not favored me for years. I just want to do it right this time. Do something right, anyway.”

“Loki.” Thor said. “However you want to do this-“

“Yes, I know. ‘Be careful’. Now if you will excuse me, I believe I will get some rest as well.”

He listened at your door for a few moments, just to make sure everything was all right, then retired to his own room.

He dreamt of home.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#brunnhilde (marvel)#valkyrie (marvel)#marvel fanfiction

11 notes · View notes