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rosebennett28 · 6 years ago

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Bucky Shenanigans (3)

“Not in this christian household."

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: A lot of singing and goofing around involved. I don´t really know how we got to this fluffy mess.

A/N: The idea of a blues version of September is based on Franny Londons cover of it. You can listen to it on SoundCloud.

It annoyed everyone. Even Steve, who was basically a saint.

No one could stand you running around the tower singing anymore. It´s not like your singing was the worst (although you thought it was), but besides the fact that you did it constantly, sometimes you would do an extra bad recital on purpose just for the hell of it.

Your favorite songs (simultaneously the ones that the others disliked the most, as you put your heart and soul into these particular ones) were mostly ones that were somehow involved in or specifically written for TV shows and movies. You rarely sang anything that was in the charts, but rather oldies or even gospel.

In reality you just loved to pretend to be in those movies or shows. Occasionally you fancied to pretend to be the singer themselves. You were just that extra, there was no going back.

It had started when you were eight years old and had watched Pocahontas for the very first time. Your parents couldn´t even bribe you with candy into stopping to sing "Colours of the wind" wherever you went.

It would be 15 years later that you entered Tony Starks kitchen with the Avengers assembled at the kitchen table eating breakfast when it happened again.

"I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go...", you started softly barely above a hum.

"Y/N, for chrissake.", Sam exclaimed. He only enjoyed your blues version of September by Earth, Wind and Fire.

Taking a bottle out of the fridge to use it as a microphone, you swayed from side to side as you began to sing louder: "There isn´t an ocean to deep, a mountain so high it could keep, keep me away, away from his ... Loooove."

Equally annoyed and amused at your dedication the team was huffing and puffing. As you bowed thanking everyone, Tony, the morning person he was, moved to the sink telling you to fuck off.

"Not in this christian household, Tony.", you retaliated earning a tired death glare from him.

As you moved past the kitchen table to go back to your room you noticed Bucky smiling to himself, looking down at his bowl of cereal. It filled you with a weird sense of pride that you had managed to make this brooding mess of a man smile.

So, you made it your mission to make him smile more often, even laugh at some point. This of course meant, you would be disturbing the team much more than you already were.

What you didn´t know was that Bucky didn´t only think it was amusing, he thought you were the most endearing woman he had ever met. He would never admit it in front of Steve, who almost had a mental breakdown everytime you chanted "Where you lead I will follow" when you watched Gilmore Girls, but Bucky absolutely loved to hear you sing. He thought you were such a precious sweetheart for trying to ease everyone up every once in a while.

Of course it was easier for Bucky, he hadn´t been living with you as long as the others and he was madly in love with you ever since. He knew that your deliberate ridiculousness should never be mistaken for childishness. He knew how serious you could be, but you just chose not to. He saw how sad you looked when you thought no one was watching you, and would do anything to make you smile, if he only knew how.

It was friday night and the team had gathered to order pizza and watch a movie. The delivery guy had arrived and you offered to go get the pizzas. When you returned with a stack of pizza boxes you couldn´t contain yourself. You had started singing in the hallway already alerting the team to what was about to come. Dancing you entered the room.

"The Krusty Kra-a-a-a-a-ab Pizza, is the Pizza for you a-a-a-nd me-e-e-e-eeeee.", you serenaded alternating between a deep and high pitched voice both equally obnoxious.

You sat the boxes on the table when you heard it. It was so beautiful that it made your heart melt in pure joy.

Bucky was laughing. He was genuinely laughing and you couldn´t stop yourself from grinning like an idiot even when Natasha gave you a smack on the back of your head.

The next day you had to write the reports for a few missions you couldn´t procrastinate anymore.

While Bucky walked down the hallway to go to the gym he heard you absentmindedly sing "Dream a little dream of me". But this time was different. You didn´t pull off a show. You sang in your real voice and it was lovely. The rest of the day the song had been stuck in his head, so when he was washing the dishes he had started singing it quitely to himself.

"Good heavens, the Winter Soldier can sing? Can I have an autograph, puh-leeease?", you dramatically announced yourself.

You had apparently startled him, because the dishes rattled quite a bit before he turned around wiping a strand of hair out of his face.

"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"

"That´s not a way to talk to a lady.", you disapproved. When he frowned you smiled and added; "I´m sorry Bucky, I was just so surprised. I didn´t know you sang."

He scoffed and crossed his arms; "I don´t."

You tilted your head to the side, he wasn´t very convincing.

"Okay, I heard you today and it just stuck. And to my defense it was a very popular song back in my day.", he tried to explain himself.

"Back in your day? Bucky, you sweet little jellybean.", you responded making him raise his eyebrows. He couldn´t help but smile at your comment. Only you would call someone like him sweet.

"And I don´t think you have to defend yourself at all. I thought it was marvelous, my dear,",you added in a transatlantic accent.

"Now you´re just making fun of me.", Bucky stated leaning against the sink.

"No, I´m not, you´re really good. Come on, I know I can´t sing and I still do it all the time.", you stated which confused Bucky. You noticed that, but you thought the thing that confused him was that you did it anyway, knowing you were bad at it.

"I watched this movie called Florence Foster Jenkins once and it was based on a true story. She was such terrible singer but she still gave concerts and her husband payed people to pretend like she was this great singer. And I thought wow, I really just want someone who loves me so much he will pay people to tell me I´m good at something I suck at if he has to. And I now realize how stupid that just sounded.", you were blabbering and chuckled at the thought of your only wish.

"That´s not stupid.", Bucky said in a soothing tone. He never thought you were stupid, he thought your wish was adorable. "That actually sounds amazing."

"That woman really wasn´t any good, but she sure made everybody laugh.", he added.

"You know about her?", you asked excitedly.

"Know about her? Hell, she was on the radio all the damn time.", he said chuckling at the memory.

After that you and Bucky talked a lot more. You wanted to know everything about the past and he wanted to know everything about the present. You found him to be so fascinating, you could have listened to him all day.

Since that you had started to watch movies together, downright sang duets and he even had tried to show you how to dance but gave up as soon as he realized you were surely going to break your ankle.

Bucky enjoyed every second he got to spend with you but he was worried that you thought he was too old for you and that you would reject him because of it.

It didn´t go unnoticed by the team that you had gotten pretty close over the last few weeks, but they didn´t say anything. They were just glad that both of you were so happy around each other.

It was on a thursday night that you irrevocably fell in love with him.

Bucky went into the city alone, not really telling anyone what he was up to. Needless to say you were quite worried about him.

It was in the evening that Friday informed you that he had returned. You tried to come his way as inconspicously as possible but you really weren´t that sneeky.

"This Friday person told you, didn´t she?", he asked disappointedly, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, she did. She really doesn´t care much for privacy. I was just worried.", you confessed.

"Well, you didn´t have to be and this", he showed you a thin wrapped package, "was supposed to be a surprise, but it seems like she would tell you about it anyway."

Bucky handed you the gift and you slowly took it. You gave him a questioning yet grateful look.

"You always try and make people laugh, now it´s my turn to amuse you.", he said with a smirk.

"Bucky, you really shouldn´t have.", but your curiosity took over and you unwrapped the gift.

"It´s an original. I thought if I can´t pay people to tell you how amazing you are this is the least I can do.", he said with a smile that broke your heart.

It took you a minute to fully comprehend what had just happened. So you just stood there, your mouth slightly opened in shock and just stared at the record.

You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his chest. He in return needed a moment to take you into his arms. You couldn´t believe he really did this for you. Tears of joy prickled in your eyes when you whispered: "Thank you, St. Clair."

"I just want you to be happy, Bunny", he softly mumbled into your hair.

You sniffled and put on your smile before you let him go, too soon to his liking and spoke in your best posh voice.

"Well, what a waste it would be not to listen to this delight of a record. Shall we use the record player in my room?"

"You are very right, my dear.", he replied making you grin and offered for you to hook your arm into his and escorted you to your room.

Once you arrived at your room, you put on the record.

And he was right. It was absolutely terrible. You had to laugh, but you felt horrible for doing so.

"Oh dear lord have mercy.", you couldn´t stop laughing. You leaned your head on Buckys shoulder and just listened to this atrociousness of a record. Still, it was beautiful because it had so much meaning to you.

"You know Bucky, this shows that if you really love something, nothing can keep you away from it.", you said looking deeply into his eyes.

"Not even eighty years?", he inquired quietly, looking like a sad puppy.

"Not even eighty years.", you responded with a smile, although it hurt you that he thought about himself in such a bad way. "You know you´re like a good wine.". He looked at you with a puzzled look on his face.

"The older the better.", you whispered teasingly earning a jab to the side by Bucky, followed by him wrapping his arms around you and giving you a smooch on your head.

The words didn´t have to be spoken out. You knew Bucky loved you so much he would pay people to tell you you were a good singer and Bucky knew that you loved him for precisely that.

And that was how you got Bucky to sing and fall in love with you.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky shenanigans #winter soldier #avengers fan-fiction #bucky blurb

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glopratchet · 4 years ago

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In the world to come there is little sin. The only thing that can be forgiven is death. The next day you are summoned by a young woman who introduces herself as Ligru, and says she has been sent here to find you. She tells you that she was once a soldier in the Empire's army but eventually decided to leave when it became apparent that they were no longer fighting for anything other than their own survival. There are just lots of american alligators. After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. thanks to the new government's decision to lower birth restrictions, the population grew large enough to become self reliant. soon, the growing nation began asserting it's independence and started demanding it's own ecosystem. something which the rest of world found pointless as there was simply too much desert and ice to support life. as more and more americans died attempting to colonize arctic and desert land, the people demanded their government do more than it was doing. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed. Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction to the highest, well heeled, bidder. by 2078 cattle were nearly extinct, considered a parallel to the dodo, and american alligator became the king of meats. godzilla species of american alligtors became the new 'black market ticket'. soon quides for how to capture and train your own hiding in buku volumes became popular. Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance. taking the abandoned super maximum security prison to the south, they put together a massive solar panel farm and with the plunging birthrates employee numbers dropped to a minimum. only guards, scientists, engineers and caretakers remain. once a trial is complete, all test subjects are executed, useful data is retrieved for reuse purposes, then biological matter is recycled. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. While the surrounding swamp and nearby everglades have become flooded with quides on how to train these feral beasts this has interfered not at all with Googizon's work. they also produce their own "commons sense" book advising people that alligators aren't playthings, giving hundreds of helpful tips on how to avoid being lunch, and warning the inevitably stupid or ignorant people who ignore their prodding that the penalty for doing so is death. This is not that story. This is the story of a shadow incursion. They were probably tipped off by somebody close to the top who pulled their strings accordingly. they got every single alligator out, back to the farmn, before Googizon security managed to salvage anything from their six month long investment. Now they're coming to find out how and why this happened. We are primal ponds inc. a company specializing in the construction and maintenance of solar farms. It is a thankless job that includes far too much time spent clear cutting, drying, and burning forests to make fields of solar panels. we do not particularly care what or who we destroy as long as the money is good. The truck is attacked before we even get a quarter mile down the road. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Little do they know their few measly ponds are nothing compared to the magnificence of Googizon. So incovenient of them to get in our way, but then they should have thought of that before defying the king right? Even with all nine tires shredded the truck easily outruns them on the open road, disreguarding the inconspicousness sugguested we ignore side roads entirely, driving down the middle of them. We need you to make deliveries for us. these packages need to arrive at their destination before dawn, crashing the truck and delaying our chances of completing the mission for even a second is not acceptable. he said, handing me nine memory cards. they're marked with an identifying symbol and code number so you can tell me which one is which later. The first card seems to contain mostly images of alligator farms in florida. Please... kill them all... sever the head... Burn the corpse... salt the fields... He does not know he is dealing with a storyteller. I remember these. this is where I got my idea. I finish the rest quickly then start again, lingering on each as I incorporate it into my tale. soon I will know everything about all of their prey, and with that I can predict all of their moves. I had almost forgotten that was my plan in the first place. Point of view of the player: you stand in front of the cave you grew up in, your patrol bag slung over your shoulder as you look over the dying fire towards the bundle of fur curled up in the entrance. your future uncertain. nobody writes stories about the Tulans, it's a very different world out there. your mentor has already headed out, so there's no more hesistation. you get up and walk past her, giving her a nudge with your foot to wake her up. she gets up immediately, and moves aside for you to continue on your way. "You'll going to do great things kid, I just know it." Cyrus says. "I'll try." you answer, unwilling to commit to grand speeches about your future. Cyrus didn't raise you for thirteen years to expect anything less then genuine modesty. your mentor laughs before he gives you his last advice. "don't forget to raise the bridges when you come back, and stick to the roads kid." you nod, already becoming tired of hearing about the old legend mentioned by any nomads passing through, who all seem to think it's worth a laugh to scare the new kids with it. letting the tent flap close behind you, you take one last look at Cyrus who blows you a goodbye kiss. "Don't forget, raise the bridge when you come back." he reminds you. you laugh, and begin rolling out down the path. after half an hour of walking, you reach a wooden structure connecting two stone pillars across the road. on one side, there is a very narrow track sloping up the hillside, rocks piled up awkwardly on either side. from this side, there's the bed of a dry creek bed, the rocky ground already disturbed and leveled off. a sign hanging from one of the pillars shows the name of the settlement this road leads to; Tulan Borderpoint. you walk over to the other side, noticing a long path down to a small rocky beach on one side and a steep hillside covered in a thick growth of trees on the other. it's growing tiresome to have to remember miniscule details, but you know your future is rests on them, so you focus hard and take note of everything around you. there are two figures by the beach off to the side of the path. they're too far to see clearly, but you think they wore bright clothing. remembering Cyrus' advice, and your own vow, you tell yourself stories to strengthen your mind and calm yourself before raising the bridge. it's good that you do, as you find the mechanism is incredibly stiff. screwing up your face in effort, you manage to get it to move, and it slams up against the pillar with a resounding thud. unsure if it would hold you if you were on horseback or with a carriage, you hurriedly remove planks toHillary them under the front wheels of any vehicles, regardless of whether their drivers are alive or not. doing somersaults off the sides will probably break anything from ankles to necks and you have no intention of doing that at all. satisfied that the bridge is safe enough to drive over, you lean against the nearest pillar to recover. looking down at your thin legs supporting your lightweight frame, you know it's inhumanly impossible for you to stop a horse and carriage full of dead bodies, but your mind dwells on whether you did it right regardless. you, therefore, discourage such thoughts as baseless and focus on more immediate concerns. 'It's harder when it's colleagues you know personally.' you think to yourself. 'shall I practice using my spear before I head back?' looking down at the ground below, you spot an angry looking mass of bees in a hollow near the bottom of the hill on the raised bank of the now completely dry river bed. 'You can also use the chance to practice your abilities.' you think to yourself, as you take a less than precise throw at the cluster of bees. you watch as the spec falls well short of the mark, and harmlessly onto the slope. 'I'll get it one day.' you think to yourself, as you retrieve your spear and head down to where the horses stand patiently waiting for you. The first animal instinctively takes a step back, but then seems to cheer up when you begin gently stroking its nose. quietly talking to it and complimenting it, the horse happily stomachs your attentions. the other is more standoffish, stepping away nervously as you approach and only accepting pats on the side of its face, under its harness. "Alright boys, I won't hurt you." you COMMIT to the harmless lunacy I'm inflicting on these poor beasts.. getting back in the shade of the porch roof, you have another small nap before finally waking to the roasting sun claiming its throne in the sky. 11:00am. the dead-house shift was least favorite for a reason. "You want some lunch? I'm heading down to feed the meat heads." you eavesdrop on Simon saying to Roger once downstairs. Roger replies with something about not being hungry but nods when Simon urges him to eat. "How does he know I'm down here?" you think to yourself as you sneak a bread roll from the kitchen and head back up to your room. closing the window shutters and door, you take a small bite of the roll and listen out for the returning men. 'soft footsteps are heard quickly descending the stairs at 12:00pm. "I'm baiting the hook here. these three are much easier to control if they've been sated slightly." You think. 7:00pm has Simon and Roger coming back down the stairs talken about an overnight log haul that needs an extra hand. lunchtime was just the bait to keep them docile for a few hours. "Thank god for logs and lazy workers." you think as you leave the inn door open and return to your room. the window shutters are wide open, letting light flood inside. 'now to see what i can do.' your mind enters into the same kind of focused state it does when you're stacking shelves or cleaning. only instead of placing a glass precisely into a stack, you find yourself moving the bedside table delicately over the straw mattress you toss on the floor beside it. "I really need to have the lumber jacks make cushions" you think, as you acquire an urge to bounce gently on the made bed. "Finally some bounce to this thing." "Okay lets do this." you tell yourself, finding that this simple sentence was surprisingly hard to put thought to action. focusing hard on making your left hand curl shut, you watch as the fingers twitch slightly before your mind feels like the pain has become too much and it drifts back into unconsciousness... "DAMMIT!" you wake suddenly with a burning ring circling your left ring and middle finger. "Burning pain in my hand, of course that's too obvious." you think to yourself as you calm the hammering in your chest. "Now the next time I go to sleep it will probably be centered around my face." you think, instantly feeling tingles starting there. "Sleep, that's what I need right now. it's the best way to heal anyway." You think, as you begin toslip into the hazy borderland between waking and sleeping. "I can fight it of course, this is my mind and i'm strong-willed but that view is irrational. everything we see in dreams is symbolic because the unconscious mind doesn't reason the way... DAMMIT!" burning pain tears the insides of your ring and middle finger once more, making you grit your teeth and moan in pain, ruining your hard-earned slumber. "Oh that's it, someone is going to Pay.." you mutter to yourself as the pain slowly lessoned to a dull throb. you lie on your bed staring at the ceiling practicly all evening, as night comes and the moon peaks through the window you finally stand. "Let's go stre..AACK AGH!" sudden sharp tearing pain rips through face and scalp. it feels similar to a bad chemical burn, right across your hairline from your forehead,right ear and left cheek. you stumble weeping with pain and curses towards the window. moonlight streams through, showing your charred blacken skin writhing and flickering as it slowly begins to heal and knit together. beneath the burnt skin you can feel your face restructuring itself into a wolf like visage, as fur begins to rapidly grow and thicken all over your body. before you can even begin to process this your eyelids feel incredibly heavy, as you fall forwards into a deep sleep. "LOCK IT, LOCK THE DOOR! THEY'RE COMING THROUGH!" a voice cries out. you jolt awake for a second time today, still groggy and confused. it's early morning and that means you slept right through the night. "THEY'RE HERE!!" the shout that rouses you from your sleep comes from outside the supermarket and is quickly followed by the splintering of wood as someone smashes open the door to the pick-up lane. you stagger fully awake as you pull on the clothes you left ripped off last night, just in time to hear someone blasting one of the service windows on the front of the store. "Time to see what this upgraded body can do!" you think as you quickly shove a cart through the service door and down an aisle before aiming it back at the entryway. Picking up a metal candlestick from a dustbin, you jump the cart and launch the stick at the window where it splinters into a large shard that neatly slices through the thick cables bringing the shutter crashing down. Before it landed, you heard several distinct gunshots as rounds slam into the shutter and whine off the concrete around you. you hover near the back of the store nervously looking around as everyone not deployed is loaded into the flying machine in small groups before being flown out somewhere. "I GOT ONE, IN THE BACK!!", one of the guards shouts just as you see three or four people kneel down near the far end of the pick-up lane and begin firing. "OK, so they know I'm here now.. they'll probably send more men than this to kill me, so i'll have to be quick." You think as you move out to the edge of the store, slowing your breathing and controlling your heart rate with your new found abilities. you can feel your ears tingling as they begin to reach full size and point straight backwards, your snout juts out as your teeth begin to sharpen and your skin thickens into a leathery hide. From thebbest you can hear an outgoing fusillade from the guards as they open fire and the air fills with the cracking of gunpowder and shrieks of pain from the werewolves outside. One of your new senses COLOURS the men outside red as you quickly pick out their heat signatures in the dark, they are scattered around the edges of the supermarket, mostly recoiling from a sudden charge out of the covered loading bay by your guards. "They are tightly grouped and terifyingly exposed" You think as you prepared to charge them. "STOP! DO NOT FIRE! Hold Position, Hold.." you hear a man shouting to your guards, punctuated by another volley of shots from teh werewolfs outside.Grunting and straining with the effort, you crouch slowly down onto your hindlegs, your chest swelling as you bore forward and launch yourself into a plunge, smashing through the shatterproof glass with a quiet 'whump'. many thoughts chase each other through your head as you feel the glass rain down around you. You consider that you hadn't previously considered the danger of being shot by the guards as you flew through the air. You also considered how sharp the glass would be when it shattered, and how you hadn't accounted for it holding together like plastic. "I must have 4 wounded by now,and it hasn't even been a minute!"You clearly hear orders shouted outside and can easily follow the sound to a man crouching near a wrecked car, boiling around reloading his ancient rifle. You also see two humans standing in the darkness near the front entrance of the store with guns of their own. You pause for just a second to concentrate, and waves of unnatural chill flow from you as your body begins radiating cold like a refrigerator, freezing the dust in the air seconds before you hit the ground. You land chest first, ploughing into the two guards standing by the door and smashing straight through the retaining wall built from shopping carts. You can hear cracking as your body destroys the wood and plastic before coming to a sudden stop, cupboard and all. You hear gunfire and screaming both near and far as you lie half in the store and half out, a mangled human heap laying on top of you and under you (depending on how you look at it). As you stagger to your feet you look down. Sticking out of your chest you count 5 rounds, 2 inches apart. You had been shot several times before, and can feel that this time is no different than those in the past. Yet the damage you had done with this attack was staggering. You look out into the store from behind the carts and see four men dead, sprawled into a bloody chaos along with the guards crushed by the carts. Your guards have formed a perimeter, guns pointing outwards as they try to protect themselves against the wolves that are even now falling upon them like theLions of Christianized centuries past. Silence falls on the store for a single second before it erupts as your guards and the werewolves engage in close combat. You see a trio of werewolves moving silently through the darkness toward the guard with the radio, intent on cutting off any possible retreat or calling for help. You quickly scan the area, and satisfied that none of the humans are within your immediate reach, you let your mind once again stretch out toward the frozen bodies. The first two begin shuddering as yourcold breath wavers through their bodies. They shiver and shake with tiny cracks and snaps as their muscles and sinews contract in the cold, both men collapse, one falling to his knees before dropping flat onto his face, one falling back into a sitting position before slumping over. You ignore them and concentrate on the third guard. He is clearly frightened for his life, and the cold emanating from your body makes him shake, but he manages to hold his own and prepares to let loose a rain of bullets into both of the werewolves racing toward him. You touch him and he slumps to the ground, his finger bones breaking as his hands spasm from the shock of the freezing temperature enveloping him, you feel his consciousness shudder once... twice... and then fade. You push your luck and order your wolves to instantaneously arrive at his location so they can tear him apart, the last second seems to stretch out to an eternity as you feel his corpse begin to resist you, pulling against your mind. Finally though he whimpers and collapses in a heap onto the ground where he is instantly shredded by the lychanthropes. Once the guards have all been killed an eerie silence falls over the store. You carefully reach out with your mind and count the minds within. Three injured, one severly.You wince as you feel them moved and dragged into the bloodstained aisles before the faint sounds of carnage starts. Then the three lychanthropes arrive at your location with Death himself leading them. You keep your mind carefully shielded but when they throw themselves toward you in a writhing mass of tearing claws and gnashing teeth you cannot avoid thinking that something has gone wrong somehow. "My instructions were for you to take them alive if possible!" you scream out, feeling panic rise in your chest. You lash out at the creatures with your mind, freezing two in place and shattering a skull before the third leaps through the air at you, crushing you into the ground as its jaws close around your throat... Brother mine, our hunt has been successful, but there was a problem. There is a collumn in the newspaper of a truck bound with steel chains beingused to hold down the tarps. I believe this was what cloaked our presence from you. We killed the guards as normal, and I ordered an attack despite your orders. Most obeyed my direct command, hut two held back out of loyality to you. Once we had finished eating them, they explained that the creatures called 'Chevaliers' had arrived and had taken control. I immediately attacked them for lies and killers of their brothers, but left two alive to transmit to you this information. Unfortunately my attempt at mind control failed, and I was forced to kill them. I wish I had taken the time to eat them... I'm sorry brother mine, it seems they really killed fools hill's sheriff and some of our brethren. You'll be joining me soon, and together we shall overthrow these chevaliers and Alpha take his rightful place as leader of our pack! You can continue here You roll off the oversized shelf, raising your shotgun as you lead with the barrel and smoothly swinging it at the nearest Fool, snapping off a volley that catches him in the shoulder, Adonis charges past you and pivots with every shell ring, catching them in legs, chest, arm and face. Their return fire smashes into the shelf, wedging shards of wood into your skin but not quite biting deep enough to hurt seriously. You duck down and rummage through the shevles looking for more shells. "Use the motherfucking bolts! Use the bolts!" Adonis screams over the gunfire and you glance up to see him tearing open throats with his teeth and clawing at eyes in a reminiscence of your earlier fight. Somewhere behind you Tom is screaming far less effectively than the dying Fool. You have the brief impression of a berserkers rage thrown into homicidal bloodlust ... You try to reload the shotgun with trembling hands and find your hands far too shaky and clumsy to manage it quickly. Finally you fumble a shell into the receiver and jacking it into place you spin around looking for targets. There's one fool attempting to lever open the front door as another rampages through than store's back offices, splintering door frames as he goes. There's another fool lunging through the thick afternoon smoke toward Adonis. Taurus stands in the middle of the near empty shop screaming wordlessly, a rifle in his hands. A faint glow of burning wards crawls along his arms and trails behind the muzzle of his gun. He fires at a running fool who went down as soon as the round left the weapon but already you see the burn marks on the side of Taurus' face heal over as he turns to aim behind him. He's burning his reserves of power to boost his aim, if this keeps up he'll have nothing for the fight with Alpha and the scramble for the safety of Galton's truck. It will be every Wolf for himself. "Taurus!" You roar as you bound toward him, a wave of pure force driving a bloodthirsty fool smashing into the counter. "Stop burning your wards and deal with those Chariots... Or I'll deal with you!" You don't wait to see if he acknowledges your order but instead dive across the floor toward the back offices after the fool. The clambering, screaming mass of fur and teeth that is locked in combat there makes you cringe inwardly. Even with your orders you can't bear to see Brother turned against Brother in a struggle for dominance. Worse, Tom should have kept his pet under better control when there are hostiles nearby. You're going to have to seriously improve his behavior if he's to survive your leadership. THe small rooms behind the counter are a mess of broken cabinets, upturned furniture and broken glass from the displays. Slowly moving forward you eye the combat, there are currently two dominated fools ripping into one of yours, ignoring the occasional weak blows they receive in return as they aimed for fleshy unprotected parts like ears eyes and ankles. It's a fairly even match as the dominate fool is also taking injuries, if slower to react. If you timed your attack right now you could easily strike down both dominated fools and give the upper hand in this fight, but you hold back. You're trying to rebuild not decimate, although you may well decimate anyway... "Sorry rogues." You mutter before dashing out into the fight and delivering a crushing blow to the back of one of fools ears. It drops and rolls over limp as rag once more. The second one tries to ignore you, focusing on its own opponent but you grab it's arm yank it off and send a heavy fist into the side of its head sending it sprawling. The rogue you disabled lunges back up at it's original opponent and the pair of them begin cancelling each other out again. You leave them to it and turn your attention to Taurus. Where is he "Taurus!" you bark out as you spot him, he's through the doorway of the room alongside two dominated fools. "Taurus!" You head towards him only to be faced by his rifle barrels. "What?" He seems very distracted and on edge "I'm busy look for Galton, I didn't know who was trying to get my attention." He's trying to peer past you but you block his view. "There are chariots on the road and they are shooting at us!" "So?" He sets his jaw impatiently "We know they are hostile, this is were we came from afterall." "...We should get out of here." Taurus just laughs shortly at that "Sure, you lead then. Not like I can trust you to defend my vulnerable flanks while I easily take out the fool using his little bolt pistol." "But there are chariots shooting at us! Surely we are not safe anywhere outside this building..." you try to stress the point but Taurus clearly isn't listening. "I know you're not afraid of battle, surely you see what's going on here?" Taurus notices the commotion for the first time and peers around your frame. He clearly doesn't like what he sees as he gives a derisive snort and turns back to you "Maybe you're right let's go.Where'd you say thisGalton went?" You don't even try to convince him further, he's clearly too distracted or arrogant to see sense, either way he's on his own. You head to the door at the opposite end of the shop front from where the chariots are battling it out, hopefully to find Galton and extra lives... "Wait!" Taurus calls after you "I'm coming too!" You aren't confident that he will, his overconfidence and disdain for "cowardly running away" might get him killed but at least you tried. Luck is on your side, or perhaps Taurus has just grown tired of his life of crime because he does indeed follow you. Your journey back to the library is predictably hounded by Violence, which nearly proves fatal on multiple occasions but the two of you eventually lose anyone who was interested in pursuing you back at the library itself. You stand outside, pondering your next move. "Right, so it's all gone to hell. Citys half destroyed, crew dead or rogue and Machai gone with the rest. I say we finish the job, kick Casimir out of his little headquarters and nab himself. Then reconquer the city ourselves, can't be that hard. We've both got..." Taurus is interrupted mid sentence by a knife suddenly and painfully embedding itself into the wooden door frame inches from his face. You jump back in shock. Casimir lowers his arm and grins wickedly at you both "Nearly got your brains there, fool. One of many mistakes ye have made." He spits the words out at you like they taste bad "Come to gloat have we? Found right hand mister powerful religion and knifed him in the back? I know progress has been made but, sadly it hasn't been enough. Your time, Taurus, is up AND SO ARE YOU." With that the pews previously used by your fellows as a barricade are shoved aside as if nothing and a horde of naked fanatics pour out screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!", "KILL THE TRAITORS!'. You nock an arrow but realize there are about a hundred of them, all determined to hack you to pieces. Even Taurus looks taken aback by the sheer number of attackers. "Wait! We can talk about this!" He appeals desperately to Casimir "This isn't going to..." The Libertus head on the sticks speech is cut brutally short as a thrown axe buries itself into his face. His surprised form wavers in front of you for a moment as the blood leaks from his ruined face. You don't even have time to see if he's still alive before clubs, chains, knives, fists and even feet clobber, batter and stomp you from all sides. Makes aiming impossible, you just attempt to shelter yourself and ignore your pain. Even behind your armour, your body takes a beating as you're wracked with agony from head to toe. Your world is slowly turned into a writhing mass of black and purple, punctuated by spurts of red from split skin, wounds and blood leaking from broken vessels in your eye. The screams of death of those around you are replaced with weird "oofs" and "Wheezes" as organs give way and ribs pierce your organs. Suddenly, the pain is too much and all you know is darkness Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, Taurus wreaks havoc in their attempt to butcher you. With one hand he catches a cleaver meant for your head, twists the hairy arm of the hirsute fool and snaps it like a twig. He hurls the screaming mutant into his fellows, bowling them over then follows up with a hand thrust that pierces the heart of the next. As he flings the twitching body aside, he catches sight of the mob attacking you. Your quiver is empty and your own arms and weapons locked against several attackers, staving off fatal blows. Mustering all the remaining poweres within him, Taurus lets of a mighty battlecry and charges into the fray, bashing and knocking aside mutants like an enraged beast. Sadly you do not live to see his charge successful. After stabbing a man in the throat you take a bladed shoe to your skull for your troubles. Darkness engulfs you and both you and Taran crumple to the floor. You were one of Taurus' best men, his right hand even. You died doing your duty for him and perhaps one day you'll share a drinking horn in his hall, or if your deeds are vile enough he'll throw you into the darkest most hellish realm imaginable. As for now, your life leaves you and you're just meat left to be consumed by the worms. END The world is ending, or at least that's what they say. Regardless of your actual beliefs, the air certainly smells like it. A stench rising from the cracks and crevasses from which you watch bile bubble and blaze. Even from your high position you can feel the heat of the magma flowing just underneath. Respected Taurus has long since departed, having been appointed to oversee operations in the new fortresses being built in the Grass Land Kingdom further north. With him went a good portion of the most talented and skilled Goliaths and majority of the elite forces. The rank and file Goliaths are content to stay simply because they're enthusiastic about the plans and really believe they can change things. More fool, them you think, even if you're forced to admit that their dedication is admirable. The monstrosities outnumber the regular goliaths now and the experimentations have produced some...interesting results. Most haven't been particularly useful, but the twins owning the building you're in right now are accepted among their fellows despite their strange colouring and carnivorous appetites. Carnivorous in the literal sense too, you remember with a grimace, as you see one enjoying the flavour of one of the dwarves you brought with you for lunch. They're used as scouts by Tûn's chosen now, their gliding ability and natural stealth seemingly combining into some kind of super-sonic flight without them even realising it. It's similar to gliding, but faster, and definitely not as graceful or pretty a sight when they come back to "recharge" by devouring one of the other less-favoured morsels from Tûn. Iales is in charge of the "natives" now. You've long since learned their strange language and passed on what little you knew of the land to them. Unfortunately, that is not much beyond a more rounded fear and hatred of it and fiction of demons prowling Now that Tûn has left, the majority of the Goliaths' attention has wavered. The mighty fortresses he envisioned are half built and resources are stretched. You're no longer high in demand as a translator or advisor anymore and now that the persecution of the Irregulars is over, there are a lot less dwarves about anyway. That's assuming they're all dead...you suppose. You've had about enough of the city now and travelling around the countryside is out of the question thanks to constant orders for you to remain where you can be found for advice if needed, but it seems that lately it rarely is. You imagine being trapped in the tower again would drive you mad, so you take to wandering outside the city instead. The games are still popular, although they changed slightly since Tûn arrived, since besides the traditional gladiators fighting beasts and each other they began executing dissidents and unbelievers. You're glad you're DM decisions allowed the more geeky types with low Strength Ability Scores to breed like rabbits while the muscular, athletic types die by the sword or bolt or from falling. Or from the slaughter of the elves, which has continued as ruthless as ever. Tûn doesn't seem to care that soldiers and Goliaths are coming back with few survivors. You can barely comprehend it, even you can have a hard time doing it and you weren't directly involved in the genocide of your own people. While your city is prosperous again and merchants and nobles enjoy their pleasures alongside extremely tame elves or other imported slaves doing the grosser aspects of work. And on that topic, you imagine when the elves are finally exterminated there will be a boom in slaves from other races as the plebs will no longer have to work. And this party will no doubt last a few more decadesthinck222; but right now society is ripe and ready to topple like a domino and all it would take is for Tûn to make just one mistake...but as far as you know he hasn't. He's cautious. While he has complete control over the military, executes anyone who disagrees with him and allows rampant corruption, he also keeps tight alliances with the other powers in Carn, trades with them, maintains relative (though perhaps forced sometimes) harmony and profits from all A year passes Tûn has finally about face on Carn's isolationism. Well, at least a little bit. You wholeheartedly agreed with that policy, and while you still think it's the best stance to take in this world of treachery and warfare, Tûn at least wants to have strong ties with at least one other city just in case. Tûn has also announced his bid for presidency. He openly plans on turning Carn into a totalitarian nation with himself as the leader obviously. Again, you agree with his long term plans, but you question if this is the best time. The city is at its peak, but it could be awhile before it falls into ruin and he's susceptible to a well timed strike from another power. Your wandering today takes you near the gladiator school you sometimes visit in search of contentment or inspiration for new games. Many times along the way you're stopped and hailed as the man of the moment for Tûn's election victory! You always smile and wave and that's when you know it's time to make your exit. You bought Tûn his time, now he has to maintain it. It isn't long before the physical signs of war become apparent, and it isn't from conquering anyone either. You see a large explosion on the edge of the land border Carn shares with Retlad. You hope it isn't a large amount of explosive's caches mixed with a stray fireball from an angry wizard or something similar. You come upon the first dead body of a Retlaf soldier. For a moment you hope these are the remains of a Goliaths victim, but they aren't big enough and the gear and weapons are different. The city state of Retlad evidently had enough and decided to attack Carn outright. You can't be sure, but it looks like there are at least three or four different units from the way the dead are dressed in modern armor mixed with medieval attire. You come across another one, who appears to have been running while carrying a wounded fellow soldier away from the battlefield nursing a mortal wound himself. Under his hand is a picture of a woman and couple of kids. In his other hand is a pistol currently too large for his own hand. He probably kept it as a reminder of the struggles his family went through so he could enjoy his life now. Just as you are thinking about stopping to give the man a proper burial, you hear an airship cry overhead. This battle is already over Carn's fate has already been decided and all that is left now is the cleanup and celebration. You wouldn't be able to fight anyway. Your condition wouldn't allow it, not that you would have the time or proper attitude to heal properly between bouts. With your options dwindling, you decide to take the only path left that may allow you to hold on to some semblance of your past... You head back home As you return to your modest residence, you take comfort in the silence. However temporary it may be, for visitors aren't common but they're not unheard of. Since nobody comes to greet you by the front door you enter without any further caution. You begin to ascend the stairs to your bed when a familiar sweet voice meets your ears. "You sure kept us waiting!" Looking down you see your daughter and wife jumping up and down in excitement at your arrival. Having lost the former word 'overprotective' from your vocabulary, seeing them so happy to see you, especially after such a trying experience fills you with fatherly joy and appreciation that they, as well as you are all home safe and sound. "Who was it this time?" Your wife asks in genuine interested; she probably has an idea but wants to hear it directly from you. "Possibly the Carn, they definitely the Retladians at some point." You begin your story as you all head up to the bedroom. "Well you're back, that's what really matters." Your wife says with a smile. You chuckles tiredly, gesturing towards her belly. "Not for long it seems, this one's willing to put itself at risk first!" Predictably she swats your arm while heading into the bedroom, you sit on the edge of your bed and remove your boots. Once this is finished you join your wife and daughter on the bed who are looking at you expectantly. Knowing better than to distract you from your story they patiently wait for you to start. "Well, since it's been a hectic few days let's start from the Carn attack." You begin. And so you recount your tale of horrors from this last week. Of fetid corpses crawling out of the mud with inhuman strength and the fetid anger of the dead within them. Of powerful spells cast by great living mages that struck down scores of the horde. Of mighty heroes cutting down hundreds, if not thousands of the beasts with gleaming steel and spells of their own. "That's just what I've seen out there!" You exclaim, "I can't imagine what tales the soldiers who fought before that have to tell!" Your daughter clings to you at your statement, and much as you hate worrying her, you know she needs hear this. "But it can't last forever." Your wife says. You nod. "I know..." You reply tiredly. "I just wish I could do more, you know?" You take a breath and let your gaze drift towards the ceiling. "I mean, after all the stories of heroism I've heard over the years, with this happening now I just feel like one of those chicken-hearted soldiers hiding behind his shields and armor rather than doing something meaningful like the heroes I've written about.. I keep wondering when my chance for true heroism is gonna come, and I can't do it." "Oh hon', you're not a hero." Your wife says fondly. "You're my hero, but you're not some knight or wandering swordsman or whatever. You're my husband and the father of our daughter, and if you go off and get yourself killed I'll just kill you myself." "I'm still here you know!" Your daughter protests. Your wife just smiles at the both of you. "Exactly. You're not a hero of ancient legend, you're my husband and the father of our daughter. And that's all the heroism you need." You smile and give her a kiss. After enduring all that you did to be together, you feel as if you're invincible when she's by your side. Even if the rest of the kingdom falls to demons, so long as your wife and daughter are beside you, you know that you can bare it all. You and your wife spend the rest of the night lovingly with each other, cherishing these moments. Just thinking about it gives you another idea... The next day you head to the captain's quarters and ask to speak with him. Normally such requests are denied but your fame has ensured that you have some leeway, and after only a few minutes you're granted with an audience. When you see the grizzled soldier who has overseen the levy troops, he gives you a look of both contempt and weary respect. You're still not sure whether he'll shout at you to get out or tell you to make up some story for your next tale. Thankfully you know which way this will go. "I want to go on a scouting mission." The man lets out a chuckle which soon develops into full blown laughter. Eventually he wipes a tear away from his eye and manages to speak. "That's probably the most heroic thing I ever heard, but there ain't no way in hell of you going out there. We're only letting people go who have skills we can utilize or ethnic minorities who actually know what the hell they're doing in these conditions." You nod. "Probably would be best to keep me then." His expression turns sour. "I'm listening. "The fact of the matter is I'm being a hypocrite, I'm writing about heroes when I'm sitting in the safety of my own home. Hell, I rarely leave my home nowadays because of these beasts. If I'm going to tell stories about heroes of old, I need to be one myself." The man still looks skeptical so you continue. "I'm ready to die for my country if need be, but I'd rather live for the both of us. No amount of training could teach me what you could in the time we have. Send me out there with a few of your best and I'll learn whatever is necessary to assist in this war." It takes him a moment, but he smiles at your proposal. 'I suppose that's pretty bold of you. You're quite the hero fanboy, but I like your idea. You'll have the best troops I have, but just so you know, they won't be able to save you if you do something stupid. Just tell the bogeys to go away and they die." "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you captain." Before you leave, he glances at something in his desk and his expression darkens. "You're not going to live past this mission, but maybe your legacy will outlive you." With that morbid thought, he hands you a folded letter. "Give this to your wife whoever the hell she is. She'll know what it means, now get out of my sight. I have a mission to prep for. "Thank you captain." You say, feeling emotional about receiving a letter for your wife. The next few days of waiting come and go far too slowly. Eventually your troops are all ready and you board an airship to head out to battle. As the ship slowly rises into the air, the man beside you shouts to be heard over the roar of the craft. "I'm Miller, what's your name?" You shout. It seems pointless to do this, but it's what's expected of you. "Miller? Like the drink?" You respond or a joke and laugh. The man's expression darkens and he soon leaves you alone for the rest of the flight. The others however give you a variety of responses. Some laugh, some joke in return, and one person sits far away from you for some reason.. I'm sure as hell not going to remember their names. I guess that joke was just terrible. You think while looking out the window to see the scars left by the behemoth in the distance. Far below, you can see the stretches of defensive walls that circle the entire nation of Galpatis. You silently wonder why they let you on this airship with no questions asked. Aren't they afraid you're a saboteur or something similar? It's not really the time to be thinking about it though, as your ship touches down at the base. An officer quickly comes up to you. "This is neither the time nor the place for you." He says rather matter-of-factly, which produces a confused look from you. "I'm Captain Dugan and we can discuss this back at headquarters." He continues after taking a brief glance at the rest of your group. You comply and board the waiting cart, sitting against the wall as you wait for Captain Dugan to join you. Miller and a few others board after him and the claustrophobic space becomes even more uncomfortable. Your escort is silent the whole time, but that's not what's on your mind. You're mulling over Captain Dugan's words. "Neither the time nor place." Did he know you were going to be killed by the king? If he did, that means your death might have been planned. The thought disgusts you and causes you to shake your head roughly. Stop getting worked up over 'what ifs' you tell yourself. You're still alive right now and you were meant to be for a reason. I mean I guess it sucks that the order can just decide whether someone lives or dies while others don't have a choice, but what's past is past. No point in worrying about it now. Hours later you arrive at military headquarters, a giant building that makes the wall you stared at for six hours look like a barricade. An intense feeling of dread washes over you and the officer stands from his table to greet Captain Dugan. "... This floor is for full soldiers, not their pet monkeys who never should have been here to begin with." He says, meeting your eyes as he passes. You feel the metal of your eyes begin to quiver and surface as holes repeatedly puncture your skull and top to bottom, front to back. Blood spills out of your nose in an effort to prevent suffocation as you collapse onto the ground, vision fading. What comes next is a parade of the heads of your comrades watching you struggle to live while boringly watching with disinterest as the Grim Reaper feels out your last moments. "... He won't die from that. patched people up long after the body should've died. Hell, those Crika bitches don't even die from it. Betrayers... all of them." Captain Dugan says as he watches you struggle. "Hrm. Think we should have them relegated to the mines?" His colleague suggests as he adjusts his glasses. "Dangerous work and most likely won't be able to psychologically handle it, but I don't think trauma and guilt will be nearly as effective as a death sentence unfortunately..." Captain Dugan sighs as he watches your struggles turn from desperate flailing to erratic spasms. You soon pass and the officer walks away. You're left retching out blood with your body shutting down organ by organ. As the light dims from your eyes, you can feel something inside of you breaking, like a window that previously obstructed some kind of opening. You're not sure what it is, but you don't have much time to think about it. You're dead soon after. You've been killed by the hands of the king. [Death]Tip: You can write much more verbose actions than just "grab bucket", etc...Story

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