#tos ambusher

[jaedoesart]

Alright, I officially adore Yuan gkasfh-

[maximumzombiecreator]

I've read all the stuff you've written about the megadungeon and some of Alexandrian's posts on it, and I think the stuff about wandering monsters and restocking rooms is absolute gold. Do you have any advice on designing dungeon crawl puzzles and traps, or maybe an example of your favorites or go-tos? Everything I find is either the classic "anything can be a puzzle" non-answer or kinda lackluster. I've had some success looking at the Book of Traps supplement for 3.5e d&d, but it feels like advice for puzzle design is a bit thin on the ground.

I'll talk about traps first, then puzzles.

My favourite traps are situation traps. When the party triggers a situation trap, there's no immediate threat to their lives, there's no damage, but the triggering of the trap somehow fundamentally changes the situation and makes it more dangerous. In my big megadungeon post I mentioned an example of one of these: the party triggered a trap that rotated a room, dumping them in a new wing of the dungeon and triggering a long, terrified escape. I love traps like this because a lot of the best and most fun dungeon gameplay happens when the party is pushed to their limits and put in desperate positions. But smart play mostly means trying to avoid those situations. Traps like these create more opportunities for those types of moments.

Probably the simplest situation trap is the classic portcullis trap. The party is walking down a hallway and steps on a trapped floor panel or trips a tripwire or whatever, dropping a portcullis in the middle of the hall. But it doesn't drop in front of the triggerer, it drops a short distance behind, likely splitting the party on opposite sides. You can combine this with an ambush for a good time, but even without it, in a system where lifting a portcullis is non-trivial this becomes a whole situation.

Another one of these I've really enjoyed using is showing the party an extremely deadly monster, something they'd struggle to fight even in the best of circumstances, behind a magic barrier or something where it can't get to them. Later, deeper in the dungeon, they trigger a trap that they can hear cause the magical barrier to drop. No immediate threat, but suddenly the rest of the delve becomes incredibly tense.

The basic structure of a situation trap is that the trigger should fundamentally change the circumstances in a way that is notably more dangerous, but not imminent. The fun for the players is that it immediately becomes a problem for them to start working on. I tend to design these by thinking of fucked up situations and then trying to come up with a mechanical pretense to trigger them. Generally, if I can't think of how I would handle the new situation, it's too harsh, but if I think the players would knowingly trigger it, it's not harsh enough. Also don't invest too much energy into designing these, or you'll be tempted to try to hard to get the players to trigger them. Teleportation and portcullis traps are such classic examples of this in part because they're very low effort to design, so if the players thwart them, no worries.

The second big category of traps I enjoy are set piece traps. These are the big, dramatic traps that pose an imminent threat but are more complex than saving throw vs damage. The room is slowly filling with sand, the statue is rotating and shooting lasers out of its eyes, the floor is slowly turning upside down over a deadly pit, etc.

I think these are fairly easy to design. You have some kind of peril, which is easy to brainstorm (tip: think of things that kill people) in some configuration that is imminently but not instantly lethal. And then you let the players interact with it to try to stop it. I would usually try to make sure you can think of at least a couple of ways to interact with it, but as long as you are clear on what the actual mechanism is, these will usually suggest themselves. Block the sand spouts, cover the statue's eyes, jam the motor rotating the floor, etc.

One thing that I do value doing with these traps is telegraphing them. If the statue is going to rotate and shoot lasers, I'll describe groove marks along the wall, and perhaps with investigation the players will determine that they were burned into the wall. Reckless players can be surprised by these, but cautious players should usually have a sense when they're about to trigger a big trap and what. Usually I'll describe the mechanisms for these as sufficiently complex and deeply built into the construction that they can't be disabled by a basic thieving skills check, but if they can describe a way around the trigger, I'll certainly let them roll for it.

My last big category of traps is simple traps, the ones with a basic trigger (a trapped floor panel, opening a drawer, walking through a beam of light) and a basic effect (a pit opens, a poison needle shoots out, the room gets fireballed) that you get a saving throw against. I still think these are okay, but I think using them effectively depends on how you're using them. Any time I'm using a simple trap, the question I am asking is, what is this accomplishing?

Sometimes they're just there for verisimilitude. In a standard dungeon game setting, sometimes it just feels like "obviously this guy would have a trap on this drawer." In these cases, the trap is there to be found and disabled. I'm not expecting it to trigger. This can give me leave to make the trap really nasty. I'm a big fan of petrification traps in dungeons for example (getting back to where you left the statue of Morningwood the Elf with a Stone to Flesh scroll is a great little sidequest.) But the trap is nasty so the thief can feel good for disabling it. On the rare chance someone gets hit by one of these, it should always provoke a reaction of, "Ugh, yes, obviously that was trapped and I should have anticipated that." Not surprise.

The second way I tend to use these is as setting. The existence of these traps tends to say something about the location and it's denizens. The traps associated with Tucker's Kobolds are great examples of these. Pit traps that can support the weight of a kobold but not a human, trip wires above a kobold's height, trapped hallways that kobolds can avoid via tiny crawlspaces, these speak to the defenses of the kobolds and the way they make the space their own. When deploying traps this way, they're often not meant to be a challenge on their own. If the party is passing through a kobold warren without kobolds, they likely won't trigger any traps, and once they've described how they're proceeding (using poles etc.) I probably wouldn't even roll, I'd just assume they handle them competently. But during a fight these become an active component. And before a fight, they foreshadow the locations' inhabitants. Designing for this use case basically starts by thinking about how the dungeon inhabitants would fortify their space against their enemies and the mechanizing it in a handful of simple ways. Usually it's a good starting point to think of what traps the trap-makers could ignore. What's unique about them? Are they unusually small or large, can they fly, are they immune to poison or fire, etc.

The third way is to set tone, and in this approach I use these very sparingly. Sometimes you want to establish the dungeon as a place that hates you, a place that you should not be, and traps can be a great way to do that. But bogging the game down to a constant crawl of extreme caution isn't desirable. Throwing a handful of simple traps (some of them already triggered and expended, as set dressing) can establish this tone and reward caution without being too disruptive to play. And besides, if I really want to establish a dangerous tone, set piece traps are often more fun for this.

I've covered loosely how I come up with all of these, but in terms of extant examples, there are a few good sources I know. OSR blogs used to have a ton of these, some of which are still around. I won't link any specific ones for... OSR reasons... but if you search for OSR traps you'll find examples. Pathfinder 2e's hazards are also good for these, I especially enjoy their complex traps for set piece traps, and they tend to be conceptually pretty easy to port to other games. I wish more of them were available on AoN. I get the full list from foundry and there's some real winners in there. If Paizo published a full on Bestiary-type book of these I would buy it in a heartbeat.

This has gotten long, so I think I will cover puzzles separately in a reblog of this once I get a chance to write my thoughts down.

[foli-vora]

Congratulations on your follower milestone! That is amazing! 💖

May I please request a Rick Flag fic with “The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.” and I would love for you to rip my heart out (since that is an option 😊)

Thanks and I am so excited to read all of these upcoming fics!

My sweet angel, thank you for your never ending support and love, and thank you for the request! I'm sorry for the major delay getting this done, but I hope you enjoy me ripping your heart out and squishing it under my slipper 💖

hear me

rick flag x suicidesquadf!reader

word count: 1k warnings: ANGST SUPREME. sad ending. swearing, blood, bullet wounds, death, sad sad sad. rick is cheesy & sad. SAD. ANGST. genuinely teared up writing this bye.

They lied. Everyone who had toed that line between life and death, they fucking lied. There was no bittersweet flash of memories before your eyes. You didn’t have a lot, but shit—there’s gotta be something worth showing you, worth reliving, before you close your eyes forever.

The minutes pass, you feel the growing chill along your limbs from the steady flow of blood from the various bullet holes in your torso, and still—nothing. Not a goddamn thing. 

Just Rick.

Rick bolting across the sand with your name falling from his lips. You can’t hear it, there’s a distinct shrill ringing in your ears that seems to be drowning out the chaos around you, but you see the movement of his mouth, the strain of his throat as he yells.

He comes to land on his knees next to you, a shower of cool sandy grains flicking up and dusting your black tac shirt. It glistens under the light of explosions and gunfire, and you briefly wonder in morbid curiosity how much of your blood stains the beach beneath you.

“Jesus. Oh, oh darlin’—”

You hear him then, his broken and strained mutter cutting through the surrounding ambush.

“Hey Colonel,” you rasp with a barely there smile, a sticky hot trail of liquid leaking from the edge of your lips, “how’s it lookin’?”

Those pretty doe eyes dart over the destruction of your body, his hands ghosting over your wounds in what feels like hesitation, anxiety. Which ones can be smothered with a cheap and easy dressing? What one needs the most pressure applied?

Going by the rate your body seems to be numbing, cooling in the breezy night air, they’re all pretty shit. At least there's no pain. Shock, adrenaline - whatever the fuck it is, you're thankful for it.

“Fine,” he mutters, rough gloved hands instead coming to rest on your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the coarse sand and half dried blood splatters covering your skin, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

“Damn,” you breathe heavily, brows briefly coming together, “I never thought I’d hear you lie to me. None of that shit. No, no.... you gotta make it something good, Colonel.”

Confusion pinches his pretty face through the pain, and you give another strained smile.

“The last words I’ll ever hear—make ‘em… they gotta be good.”

“Don’t talk like that, you hear me? You’ll be fine. Backup’s comin’. They’re comin’, and we’ll get you patched up, and you’ll be right to back to bein’ a pain in my ass, okay?”

Oh, sweet soldier.

No.

It doesn't work like that.

They don’t send help for people like you. Suicide Squad, remember? It’s in the name. You knew what you were signing up for. He knew what you were signing up for. This is it. You’re just another classified file thrown through the shredder at the end of the day.

You blink tiredly up at him, “No one’s coming, Flag.”

He shakes his head in firm denial, strong jaw rolling in an effort to remain cool and collected.

“No, they... they have to.” 

“Somethin’ good, Flag,” you remind him quietly, a heaviness now seemingly coming to rest along your limbs.

Is this it? Can’t you just have one more minute? One more minute of him crowding your vision? You don’t need a last minute life montage, not when he’s here, not when he’s carefully dragging you further into his warm embrace.

Please, just a little longer in his arms.

“Okay… okay. The—the first time you smiled, it felt like the universe aligned.”

“Oh, fuck me,” you splutter with a sudden roll of remaining energy, chest heaving and lungs screaming as you choke on a weak chuckle, “that’s a… a new low, even for… f’your s-soft self.”

“Thought you’d like that,” he drawls quietly with a grin.

It’s brief, tainted with agony stricken tears, and falls from his face the second it stretches his lips. No, sweet soldier. Smile. It’s okay.

Maybe… maybe this is why your life isn’t flashing before your eyes. It’s because it’s here—he’s here. You didn’t really have anything before this, before the Squad, before Rick. You were merely a shell of a person in your cell, angry with the unfair world and the hand you’d been dealt from childhood, but when he came along?

He gave you a chance, saw something in you no one had before. He provided you with the Squad, with friends. He got you out of your cell and into the fresh air with a new outlook. He trained you, laughed with you, ate with you in the crappy mess hall despite the frowns from his co-workers.

He saw you.

He saw you for everything you were, not for what people thought you to be.

“Think you’re the… the closest thing I’ve e-ever felt to love, Colonel. Thank you.”

It’s a decent goodbye, you decide with the final beat of your heart, slackening in relief and embracing the call of the abyss with a leftover curl still tugging at your lips. Better than you’d been led to believe you deserved, better than what Waller threatened you with.

You got a good ending.

He feels the weight of you in his arms, sees how unnaturally still your chest has fallen and how your eyes seem to stare just past his shoulder. It shakes him to the core. His heart beats at the base of his throat and he can’t help but call out to you one more time, despite knowing you’d never answer.

“Darlin’?”

You can’t be gone—not yet.

You can’t be gone, because you didn’t get to hear him say it back. He needs to say it, he needs you to hear it. He murmurs those three little words over and over, breathing them into your skin wherever he can reach, willing you to stay just long enough to hear them, long enough to know you were loved.

You need to know you’re loved.

Bile builds in his throat at the thought, but he has to leave you behind; alone, broken and bled out on the sandy beach for a sweep team to deal with later. He wonders as he runs through the dense jungle, but he’ll never know if you did manage to hear his broken, tear filled I love you’s.

He hopes with everything in him that you did.

[hogwartstoalexandria]

Funny how I assumed going into TOS with only AOS knowledge of anything Star Trek, that Spock would be my favorite character. He seemed to fit the archetypes I tend to gravitate towards, smart, misunderstood/isolated and, now that I know more, he's even got the family trauma!

Suffice to say I did not anticipate Captain Jimothy Tiberius Kirk to bat his eyelashes at me with his stack of books on legs past, and his concerned, responsible, often bonkers Captaincy present. Suffice to say, I did not expect to be ambushed by the most golden retriever character I have ever loved. His loyalty and honor and passion and cleverness and poker face in the line of duty versus his puppy face, heart eyes with the people he loves?

Did not expect this one bit.

[indignantlemur]

Hello, I've been reading up on folklore and cryptids alot as of late. What kinds of criptids do you think andorians would have come up with and would you be willing to talk about a few? I can imagine an older member of the clan trying to prevent the youth from doing some more dangerous stunts around the clan hearth similarly to how parents would around the campfire at night.

Hey there!

That's a good question! Andorian cryptids aren't something I've put too much thought into just yet, but I have a few ideas I'm happy to share! Andorian folklore and mythology describes a few cryptids, mostly of the legendary one-of-a-kind variety.

A great example of an Andorian cryptid would be the Fog Spirits.

Purportedly birthed by the Fog Mother, a figure of legend sometimes thought to have been an Aenar woman, the Fog Spirits (often simply called Spirits) are ravenous, ghoulish creatures cursed to suffer eternal hunger and deprivation. According to legend, the Spirits of Andoria are responsible for the majority of misfortunes that can befall one on the planet's surface, particularly when dense fog covers the frozen sea-ice.

Most Andorians don't believe the Spirits are real, of course, but even the true believers aren't in a hurry to take foolish risks trying to prove anything one way or the other.

Another cryptid of Andorian-origin is the Iridescent Veeg.

Mundane veeg are a carnivorous, predatory species native to Andoria, insectoid in nature and possessing a shockingly effective ability to camouflage themselves for ambush attacks using mirror cells embedded in their chitin. The only signs they give of their presence are the tell-tale yellow flash of an iridescent chitin plate found on their thorax, a low-frequency trill, and the occasional six-toed claw mark found upon the ceiling. A veeg can and will hunt and eat full-grown Andorians, and anything else it can get its claws on.

The Iridescent Veeg, however, is much smaller and nearly entirely translucent, almost wraith-like, with an eery, oil-spill like shine across its body where an ordinary veeg would be nigh-invisible. It is carnivorous and opportunistic, as all veeg are, but lacks the size and strength to take down larger prey; accordingly, it prefers the softer meats of foolish children caught unawares, having wandered too far from home. While the Iridescent Veeg has been 'sighted' many times, no evidence of its existence has ever been confirmed.

And a third cryptid for you, is the Creeping Mock-Vithi.

The vithi plant is a common sight on Andoria, particularly round the coastal cities. It's a flowering vine, sporting wickedly curved thorns and large, fleshy flowers which are commonly consumed with a sweet syrup (or honey, on Earth.)

The Creeping Mock-Vithi, however, is not a plant at all. Reported to be a an eerily intelligent organism which only resembles a vithi plant, it is (as most things on Andoria are) carnivorous, with a curious predilection for the slow and inebriated, whose sluggish movements are most easily snared by the creature's vine-like appendages. Nearly indistinguishable from the genuine plants themselves, the Creeping Mock-Vithi is given away by a single pair of beady black eyes amongst the tangles of thorns and petals.

Many a dock worker has stumbled home far later than usual, claiming that they were set upon by this creature after having an ale after work. Few provide any credible evidence.

Hope you enjoyed the read! <3

[rjzimmerman]

Some of the finalists for the "Wildlife Photographer of the Year" award. The contest is developed and produced by the Natural History Museum in London. In a separate post, I embedded a photo by the photographer Francisco Negroni of a volcano erupting in Chile with unreal atmospheric effects (colors and clouds). I'm including just a few of the finalist photos in this post.

"Annoying Neighbour" by Bence Máté. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

A European roller performs acrobatics in an attempt to drive a little owl out of its breeding territory. A brilliant blue European roller in Hungary’s Kiskunság National Park appears frozen upside-down in mid-air, performing dramatic dives and rolls true to its name. The bird’s mating display consists of similar airborne acrobatics. The species has only a short mating season, and the male bird intends to take advantage of it—he “makes a sport of annoying other birds that stray into its breeding area,” according to a statement accompanying the shot. He might ambush the other creature and chase it down at a high speed. Hungarian photographer Bence Máté spent 27 days watching from a hide before capturing this shot.

"Curious Connection" by Nora Milligan. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

A chimpanzee climbs a tree in Gabon and stares into the camera lens, making eye contact with the photographer. The call of a chimp rang out through Gabon’s Loango National Park. While on a guided trek through the forest, American photographer Nora Milligan and her group paused, listening. A family of chimpanzees, known to researchers as the Rekambo group, emerged from the brush and started to climb the nearby trees. “This particular chimp paused, his curiosity piqued, and sat still long enough to observe me in return. I knew we had made a true connection when he craned his neck forward and widened his eyes to get a better look at me,” Milligan writes on Instagram. “I hope my image can play some small part to inspire others to seek this same connection and care for all living beings on Earth.”

"Snuffling Sengi" by Piotr Naskrecki. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

A four-toed sengi forages in Gorongosa National Park, Mozambique.

At dawn and dusk, the rarely seen four-toed sengi emerges to feast on insects. The elusive species, seen here in Mozambique’s Gorongosa National Park, might look like a rodent—but it’s actually more closely related to elephants. Its other name, the four-toed elephant shrew, refers to its trunk-like snout. Because sengis are skittish, Polish photographer Piotr Naskrecki didn’t want to scare them away—so, rather than lying on the ground to capture this shot, he set up a remote camera. For this method, he had to somewhat anticipate where and when the mammals would forage.

"Wolf Pack" by Arvind Ramamurthy. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

Five wolf cubs pause amid play to look at the camera as they frolic near farms in India.  Not far from farming fields in Bhigwan, India, a pack of five wolves pauses amid play, each one staring into the camera. Indian photographer Arvind Ramamurthy captured the shot, which he calls a “unique natural history moment,” in a video posted to Instagram. But it also tells a larger story, he adds. “As their native habitat of grasslands are depleting, more and more wolves are moving into agricultural spaces,” Ramamurthy says in the video. “And that brings them into direct conflict with us humans.”

"Fallen from the Sky" by Carlo D’Aurizio. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

Dead insects float in a stream in Italy, creating a somber mosaic of color and stilled wings. When Italian photographer Carlo D'Aurizio came upon this stream in Italy’s Majella National Park, he expected to see butterflies and dragonflies fluttering around the water. Instead, he found insect bodies floating, with no explanation as to what had happened to them. It was a summer morning, but the weather hadn’t been hot enough to cause a mass die-off. The reason for this “sad collage” remains a mystery, but it created a still life trapped in the water’s surface tension.

"Unsold" by Jose Fragozo. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

A rescue operation in eastern Africa retrieved this cheetah cub from the illegal wildlife trade. Cheetahs get roped into the illegal wildlife trade in the Somali Region of Ethiopia, often when farmers capture and sell them, claiming the animals had been a threat to their business, according to a statement. Not all cubs sell, however, and some are killed, since their parts, especially bones, are valuable in Asian markets, such as for bone soup.Photographer Jose Fragozo of Portugal captured this shot during a rescue operation, which began after authorities got an anonymous tip. This cheetah cub had been taken from the wild and transported via camel to the northern coast of Somaliland. Though the young cat began chirping for its mother, the rescue was ultimately successful, acquiring this cub and bringing it to a safe place. “An important part of Wildlife Photographer of the Year is highlighting powerful and sometimes challenging stories about the natural world, as well as the effects of human impact on the planet,” the Wildlife Photographer of the Year account writes on Instagram. “We hope that by creating more awareness of the challenges faced by wildlife globally, we can inspire change and create advocates for our natural world.”

"Aspen Shadows" by Devon Pradhuman. Description from Smithsonian Magazine:

Gray wolves amble through Yellowstone National Park in the snow, framed behind a group of aspen trees. Four grey wolves walk single file through a snowy Yellowstone National Park, dotting a nearly barren landscape. In this composition, the mammals are joined only by a grouping of aspen trees, leafless against the winter ground. American photographer Devon Pradhuman watched from a distance as the wolves approached the trees, followed the rest of the tree line and disappeared over a hillside on the hunt for their next meal.

[iwritewhump]

"Stop it! You're going to kill them!" + blood spattered walls + ambush + villain's house

day twenty-five of whumptember

1027 words

warnings: descriptive talking about a run over animal, murder, blood, knife, becoming paralyzed (?), I think that's it, but let me know ig

a/n: ok yes i saw something that will scar me for ever but i write to process shit so here's this please be safe reading it <2

~

Villain unlocks the door to his shitty apartment and hauls a battered Supervillain inside. He drops her on the couch and collapses onto it next to her. Light filters into the room through the curtains and Villain closes his eyes, taking in the moment of silence. Just in this moment, it was easy to forget the beating they’d just taken from Hero. 

Supervillain sniffles and takes his hand in hers, “You’re too good for me.” 

She cups his face with her other hand and a tear rolls down her cheek. Villain smiles and leans against her. He inhales deeply and curls up next to her. 

“No, I’m not.” 

He lays his head on her lap and stares up at her. She smiles down at him and runs a thumb over his forehead and starts carding her fingers through his hair. Sighing, she leans her head back to stare at the ceiling. 

The door gets kicked in and Hero runs into the apartment. Villain shoots up, instinctively standing in front of Supervillain. Hero scoffs and grabs fistfulls of his shirt and rips him out of the way. 

“What are you doing?!” Supervillain shouts. She raises her arms to protect her face and pulls her legs onto the couch to shield her chest. 

Villain pushes himself up from the ground and shoves Hero away from her. He pulls Supervillain to her feet and shouts, “Go!” 

Hero regains her composure quickly and blocks her way, “I don’t think so.” 

She grabs a handful of Supervillain’s hair and pulls her down. She collapses onto the floor. While Supervillain struggles to get back up, Hero shoves Villain against the wall. The entire apartment rattles, sending hanging pictures to the floor. 

“You…” Hero spits, pulling a dagger out from under her belt. Villain flinches, turning his face to the wall, “Can stay right here until I have time to deal with you.” 

She uses the dagger to staple Villain to the wall, sticking it right next to his neck. He pulls away from it, stretching his collar. The blade shines in the light from the window and it’s everything Villain can do to keep from touching it. 

He watches as Hero stalks up to Supervillain, hand held high above her head. She brings her hand down and thumps Supervillain’s chest. 

Supervillain wails as her bones crack under Hero’s fist and she writhes on the ground. 

Hero lands another blow, this time bringing her elbow down on her throat and Supervillain wheezes. Her hands fly up to her throat and she rolls onto her side, curling into a ball. Hero rolls her eyes and scoffs. 

Villain pulls away from the wall but the knife stays buried in his shirt and the wall, he shouts, “Stop it!” 

Hero kicks Supervillain’s back, her steel-toed boots breaking skin and sending blood spraying onto the walls. Supervillain howls in pain and unfolds. She rolls over onto her back and holds her hands above her face, “Please…spare me.” 

Villain thrashes against the knife, his shirt tears and he rushes Hero, “You’re going to kill her!” 

His arms wrap around her back and he pulls her backward. Hero shrieks and lurches forward, bending over and Villain goes flying forward. He feels something snap and tears spring into his eyes. He can’t move.

Hero exhales sharply and blows a strand of hair out of her face. She stands in front of Villain, waiting for him to get up. But she sees it on his face that he can’t. She smirks cruelly and angles herself so he can see Supervillain’s face. She rips the dagger out of the wall and plunges it into Supervillain’s chest. 

Supervillain gasps and all the muscles in her body go limp. Hero rolls her onto her side and makes sure Villain can see her. 

“Now,” she says, standing over Villain. “What to do about you?” 

She puts her boot on Villain’s chest and steps down. He wheezes under her, blood trickling out of the corners of his mouth.

“Please,” he coughs. “Don’t do this…” 

Hero pulls her foot off of him and squats next to him. Her hands are crossed on her knees and she leans over him. 

“You know…I once saw a cat get hit by a car. Just…ran over. But it didn’t die right away. It spasmed for minutes before. And I…watched. Its body sprung up from the road, maybe a foot in the air and it painted the street with its blood. Someone ran over to help, but all they managed to do was terrify this wild-this feral-cat. It tried to run away. And all I could think was ‘why the hell do you think you can do anything to help that thing?’ I mean, we all saw the car speed past, we heard its bones crunch under the tires. How could anyone…save it?” Hero pulls her dagger out of its sheath on her belt and holds it over Villain’s chest. “The best way someone could have hurt that cat was to kill it quickly. And we couldn’t even give it that mercy.” 

Villain’s chest spasms, a pathetic attempt at coughing, “What’s your point?” 

“I guess I wasn’t too clear. You’re the cat, Supervillain was the car.” She tilts her head and frowns. “But there’s nobody trying to save you. I’ll kill you quickly though, you don’t have to worry about that.” 

Villain closes his eyes and waits. He waits for the searing hot that comes with the dagger sinking into his chest, he waits for the warm blood to spill out of his chest and flow onto the ground, and the shocking cold when all the blood has been spilt. 

Hero chuckles softly and falls forward, propping herself up on his chest. 

Villain slowly opens his eyes and his brows knit together. Hero’s laugh builds until she falls over. The knife clatters onto the ground and she rolls from side to side. 

“Oh,” She says, taking a deep breath. “I get it now. The saving. It…” she lays next to Villain and bumps their heads together. “It makes sense now.” 

She sighs heavily and takes Villain’s hand in hers. He can’t pull away.

[jjkeremika]

secret

description: erens been gone for three years but sometimes he’ll ask to see mikasa

pairing: eremika, eren x mikasa (aot,snk)

smut: yeah

Mikasa crossed her legs once she felt the vibration travel up her thigh. She knew who the message was from and what it said; everyone who could’ve messaged her was in the meeting room apart from one person.

The one on the run.

He’d disappeared years ago, becoming search priority number one like usual, then dropping to priority zero not before long. Declared public enemy number one. Humanity’s last hope renamed to humanity’s downfall.

She knew what the text message would hold. An address. A remote site within the walls, hidden away from daylight and watchful eyes.

She walked out of the building with Jean and Armin, the guilt gnawing at her insides like a hungry animal. She knew she shouldn’t hold onto this information, this meeting place with the world’s enemy. She knew she should hand it over, tell them to plan an ambush and capture him before it’s too late. Turn away when they scroll upwards and see the onslaught of previous rendezvous locations. Start running when the questions are directed towards her.

Jean asked what her plans for the night were. Mikasa felt burdened when she lied about volunteering in the far districts and had to rush away.

She knew she should’ve pulled out the communication device and exposed the message. Exposed the numerous messages over the years, heavy on one side with addresses and little else, no times or requests or questions or hellos or goodbyes. Only weighted expectations.

Ones she filled every time.

It’s not like other soldiers don’t do something similar, she tried to reason with herself. Blow off the steam somehow. She’s humanity’s second strongest soldier, she needs some kind of outlet right? She can’t be the best if she’s bogged down all the damn time. She’s doing humanity a favor, really.

Sure, maybe not the best person to do it with, but it’s not like they really discuss anything.

Mikasa arrived at the building first, having walked for the past thirty minutes to avoid drawing attention to her ODM gear.

She recognized the building; they’ve met here before. She walked around the building to the side door and knocked—silent, expected. She entered—unlocked, expected.

It was a small standard room, rented out like a back-alley inn for quick money. Hush payments, no questions asked. It worked for Eren’s situation.

She removed the ODM gear and carefully placed it on the chair, breathing deeply at the relief of lifted weight. If only the chains that shackled her to this situation had been lifted too. She’d have felt so light.

She stared out the window watching the sun set below the wall when the door opened, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized insincerely, closing the door behind him and immediately facing her. She felt a weight drop in her stomach at the sound of his voice. Rougher than before, like he didn’t use it anymore.

He toed his shoes off at the door and started to walk over, confident strides defining each step towards her, leaving little space between. He smirked at her smugly, all knowing.

“And for not texting in a while.” He said it like he was late home for dinner one night, an unplanned one-off event where the dutiful husband should’ve told his loyal wife about the delay; like it was a rare scenario for their daily lives.

She hated this internal tug towards him, the feeling that if she let go she’d fall right into his arms, right into this dream of a perfect house life, a normal life for their very abnormal messed up lives. Resistance was all she had, but he made that fantasy so damn enticing.

Eren stopped before her, holding his arms out. “Did you miss me?”

The weight that had dropped had now dissipated like electricity in her pelvis, sparking something, like a live wire in a puddle of gasoline.

Mikasa turned around and crossed her arms, making abrupt eye contact with herself in the mirror. She had her reasons for dissatisfaction, his leaving with little explanation only to then spontaneously be overwhelmed with a fervent desire to see and feel her being one. He couldn’t just show up whenever he felt like it, ask for her then leave before dawn, only to do it again weeks later without question.

Well… he could, and he does. But she won’t let it be easy and immediate.

Eren stepped up behind her, a pitiful pout on his lips, and rested his chin against her shoulder. “I bet you did.” He wrapped his arms around her own. “I bet you missed my arms around you,” he said into her neck, smirking because he could feel the goosebumps rising on the skin in response, could feel her tightening the muscles in her forearms and back and neck in response.

His pupils glimpsed at hers through the mirror from the awkward position against her neck. “Missed my hands on you.” One hand traced up her arm, caressing up her shoulder down her sternum to her naval. She closed her eyes and felt each point of connection between them like the tip of a live wire, lighting up a body map with strikes of lightning and sucking air out of her lungs.

“Missed my fingers touching you.” Eren’s mouth was just behind Mikasa’s ear, and one hand dropped to her back hip bone, rubbing circles at the skin between her shirt and her pants, just above her butt, moving lower with each cycle. “Missed my fingers inside you.”

She involuntarily gasped and Eren smiled widely, arrogantly. She could feel it against the fine hairs on the back of her neck. He pressed his front against her and took the opportunity to cup her breast firmly. She relaxed back into him, mouth agape, an airless gasp escaping her lungs.

“You wish,” she muttered, wanting to hear him say how badly he missed that too. She eyed him through the mirror, trying to maintain strength but knowing he elicited weakness.

He moved the hand from her hip to just below her naval right above her pelvis, fingers just curling to where her heart was pumping blood. “You’re right,” he whispered against her neck and lowered his hand and curled his fingers inward, dropping it to the gap between her legs, “I do.” He tightened his grasp on her boob. “I do so badly.”

A light ahh escaped her mouth as Eren pressed his fingers up between her legs into the fabric. He started rubbing lightly, and her hips involuntarily moved with the friction. He pressed his hips forward into her back and ass. “Can’t you feel how desperate I am for you?”

She could feel his hard cock underneath the coarse fabric as he pressed himself deeper into her. “I’ve missed you so bad.” She released a huffy breath as his finger rubbed against the right spot. She loved when he needed her, when he was so very desperate for her, and he knew it. “I want you so bad.” But she wasn’t ready to stop teasing him yet, she couldn’t. He hadn’t done enough to deserve it yet.

Mikasa softly reluctantly cried out as Eren removed his hands from her crotch. He forcibly turned her around, then steadied her with his fingers firmly dug into her hips. Her hands collected on his broad chest, solid and firm and soft under her touch.

Eren immediately started sloppily kissing up and down her neck, a clash of teeth and tongue and saliva and it should be gross but its sending millions of tingles to all the right places. She bared her neck out for him, giving him more room, more access, to make her feel even more. That’s all that was on her mind: more more more.

“Tell me, Mikasa…” The way he said her name, like each syllable was equally important, like it was hot honey dripping from a hot spoon into the most delicious cup of hot tea—it caused bubbling sensations to travel down her spine, an ease to settle in her stomach that made her feel at home. “Tell me you want me.”

One hand sat firmly at her hip while the other struggled to undo the zipper. The whisper against her neck sent a shiver throughout her body, sent heat to her cheeks and made her knees weaken slightly.

“Eren,” she responded lamely, breathlessly. His name tasted foreign on her tongue, but they both knew it will re-adapt to her mouth the more she says it, dance on her tongue better the longer the night goes on.

He lifted his head up, peeled his lips off her skin and made eye contact, fighting the urge to pin her between the mirror and himself.

The look in his eyes… dark yet innocent, heavy and burdened yet in love. The games and resistance before felt so trivial now.

“Mikasa…” He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, letting the warm palm of his hand caress her cheek, leaving a trail of hot pink skin from the touch. Her name was a melody leaving his lips, soothing all past injuries, slowly becoming more quiet and unplayed the longer he’s away.

She ignored the frown lines and heavy bags under his eyes, hoping that at least for tonight, she can give him the very best remedy.

One hand rose from his chest and firmly settled into his hair, grabbing the long dark brown strands and intertwining her fingers. Mikasa’s other hand slipped under the fabric of his shirt and climbed up the ridges of his abs to his chest, letting it rest above his heart.

Both of Eren’s hands had found themselves around her waist and pulled her in, effectively closing the distance between their bodies. His hard erection pressed against her front, his nose burrowing into her neck.

“Please,” he whispered into her skin, his humid breath condensating immediately. He started to press soft kisses to the exposed flesh. “I need my princess.”

Usually she hated the term and she absolutely despised when the regiment tossed it around like a synonym for weakling, but there was something in the way Eren said it, a level of softness and neediness that set the word apart from others, set her above the rest. Being his princess meant being something different entirely. Not being needed, but certainly never not wanted.

The moan she released was half in response to the pet name and half in response to his lips connecting to the softest spot of her neck, just above the dip between the collarbones.

The grip on his hair tightened and her breath sped up as Eren’s hands frantically tugged at the buttons on her shirt, unbuttoning half before ripping the rest off in lazy frustration.

His mouth immediately made its way down her chest, pressing kisses with salivary remnants all over the exposed skin of her breasts. He let his tongue and lips roam all over the soft bouncy flesh as his hands roamed her torso. She bent her back to accentuate her chest on his tongue.

“Take this stupid thing off,” she ordered quickly, tugging on the shirt he always wore.

Eren pulled away and did as he was told as Mikasa’s hands scattered to her back as she struggled to unclasp the bra that kept her chest so tightly caged in. The bra was off and on the floor by the time Eren had pulled his shirt over his head, and his eyes were locked onto her breasts not a second later.

Eren groaned at the sight; her chest was always his favorite. Voluptuous and bouncy and forgiving. He started to palm his hard-on through the rough fabric of his pants.

Mikasa cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Getting needy, huh?” she asked redundantly. She started to slowly sink to her knees, raising her hands to Eren’s knees and caressing up to his hips. Mikasa glanced up at Eren once her head was just in front of the erection he was palming. “Nuh-uh,” she tisked, shaking her hand. She grabbed his wrist and moved it away from the tented fabric. “No touching.”

She quickly undid the pants button and both of them were pulling down the fabric together until his red cock popped out, eager to taste the air.

Mikasa licked her lips and used her thumb to wipe some of the spit away, making eye contact with Eren the entire time, whose eyes were heavy and hooded with desire. He looked down at her and subconsciously pushed his hips out, silently begging for her to take him all in her mouth already.

Well she got the hint, and after gently rubbing her hand up and down the shaft briefly, she brought her lips to the tip and wrapped her lips around it.

She hollowed out her cheeks and sucked rhythmically, changing the length she covered with her lips and alternating the position of her tongue. Eren bit his lip so hard blood could’ve come out. Mikasa looked up at him like she’d suck that too.

His hands were clasped in her hair and his mouth was parted as his hips chased her lips. The ghost of the wet contact stayed on the skin and sent soft rolls of pleasure up his body, building up the desire for more. He chased after her mouth, hoping to shove all of his cock down the wet warmth of her throat.

Tears formed in the edges of her eyes as his cock pushed against the back of her throat. She continued to suck and tug and lick at the sensitive skin, letting the myriad of noises and praises he released act as cheers and encores. His voice carried her name so thickly when she sucked him off, like he was choking on it the same way she choked on him.

She continued to suck on his cock when the vein throbbed and he released his load into her mouth. “So good with your mouth,” he mumbled to himself as she swallowed cleanly, smirking at the whiny whimper he released when he came. “So, so good.”

Eren roughly yanked on Mikasa’s hair to pull her to her feet, signaling for her to stand in front of him again. Once she stood up, he forced her backwards until she was trapped between the mirror and him.

He pulled down roughly on her hair with one hand and let the other hand drop to her hip. Her mouth was open in shock as a surprised gasp slipped out. “God how I’ve missed that mouth,” he muttered more to himself and dropped his hand from her hip even lower to her crotch.

He kissed her as soon as she made eye contact, then curled his fingers upright and in between her legs. Eren altered the weight of the fingers against her crotch and rubbed carefully, feeling himself grow hard as his tongue slid against hers while his fingers searched through fabric for her clit.

He lifted his hand slightly and slipped it between the waistband of the pants and her bare skin, quickly adjusting to the skin contact and finding a new rhythm.

Mikasa bent her knees slightly to increase the pressure. Her mouth was open and short bursts of air puffed out as his fingers played with her clit and moist lips.

Eren tucked his hand down awkwardly and started to curl two fingers towards her clit. He tugged on her hair at the moment he pressed against her clit to elicit out breathless gasps and more drops of fluid, causing his fingers to start making a squelching noise with each movement.

He yanked on her hair again, causing her chin to lift up and her mouth to open wider with a loud “Ah!” He pulled his fingers out of her waistband and lifted them to her mouth, putting three inside. She closed her mouth obediently around them and started sucking, her mouth puckering at the sour taste of herself.

Eren’s pupils were so dilated his eyes were dark as he watched her suck on his fingers, evoking a series of dick twitches that reminded him just how hard he was, just how badly he needed her to get off.

“Take your pants off,” he ordered simultaneously, watching Mikasa suck on his fingers with dilated pupils. She sucked on his fingers just as diligently as she sucked on his cock and started unbuttoning and unzipping her own pants, shaking the fabric from her thighs and stepping out of them easily.

Before she knew it her naked body was pressed against the cold mirror again. The hand clasped in her hair had moved to her lower back, holding her close to his body, where she could feel the new erection growing eagerly.

Eren replaced the fingers in her mouth with his tongue. She kissed him headily, like somehow she could make up for lost time, while his licked-up fingers made the trail back to her now exposed cunt. Without warning he slipped two fingers inside, shoving his tongue deeper down her throat when she gasped, preventing her from making any form of noise. The only noise being the sound of fluid displaced with each push in and pull out of his fingers.

Mikasa let her knees collapse slightly as she let herself be pinned between the mirror and Eren’s body. She practically sat on his fingers as he shoved them in and out of her, the noise more loud and obscene than the sound of their tongues smacking together, than the sound of the mirror rocking against the wall as Mikasa’s body recoiled with each pulse of his fingers.

She tilted her head back to break the kiss, short of gasping for air as her head became light, as her mind blanked with nothing but the thought of Eren Eren Eren.

He was already breathing heavily from having come once, and now he was breathing heavily to make up for whenever his breath stopped, whenever he silenced his lungs so he could clearly hear the gasps and whines fall from her free lips.

But she was still far too quiet for his liking.

The squelch squelch squelch sounds increased in frequency and amplitude as Eren sped up the movement of his fingers, letting his hand soak up and prune with the discharge, coaxing out various moans from her that only sucked the air out of his lungs more.

Mikasa loudly squealed out as Eren blindly jabbed inside her vagina, poking and curling his fingers inside around the spot that made her scream. Desperate to hear how loud she could be.

“St-, Eren, wait! Stop!” she cried out, struggling to find his wrist to pull his fingers out. He paused, leaving his fingers inside, curling the tips ever so slightly, relishing the touch of her smooth velvet insides against the rough fingertips.

She gasped when she finally found his wrist and pulled ever so slightly on it, signaling for him to pull out and step away. He did, and the absence was felt immediately. The emptiness inside she was so familiar with that would sit until their next meeting.

He took a step back from her to let her collect her composure. As soon as she was solid on two legs again, her hand reached back out for Eren’s hard cock. “Fuck me,” she pleaded, eyes wanting, “please. Fuck me with this,” she roughly squeezed his cock, smirking when Eren’s eyes squeezed shut and his face twisted in pleasant surprise, “until I can’t walk anymore. Until I can’t even stand.”

[saltminerising]

when it comes to multi account banxiety i find it very amusing how people will blame staff because they didn't read the TOS. is the punishment for multiaccounting pretty extreme? yea. i myself get anxious from time to time about an account i made nearly ten years ago and forgot about before rediscovering flight rising. i never funneled or interacted btwn the accounts so my activity is indistinguishable from some other random person signing up and then abandoning the game, but still, the fearmongering gets to me sometimes.

even as someone who unintentionally broke these rules, i do think it's funny that when you're making your account you click a checkbox that says "i've read and agreed to the terms of service," with one of those terms being that you're only allowed one account and you'll be banned for multiaccounting ... and then some people will claim to be completely blindsided by staff's punishment for multiaccounting. again, i think the punishment for multis is pretty unfair and i myself would be very upset if i ended up being caught, but ... you, me, and every other flight rising player agreed staff could do this when we signed up. it's not staff's fault that i initially didn't read the TOS but clicked the box anyway :shruggie: i wish they would be more lenient about multiaccounting because it breaks my heart to see people lose their dragons over something stupid they did years ago, but ... intentions don't change the fact that we all told staff when signing up that they're allowed to close our accounts for multi-ing.

i haven't been on this blog in a bit but i've gleaned that there was a recent multi ban wave (?) and i've seen a bit of the usual fearmongering about how staff ambushes innocent people with multi allegations and unfairly closes their accounts and this and that and .... yeah, false bans happen and they're terrible, but consider that many people who knowingly broke the rules have an incentive to lie about why their accounts were closed. take it easy and try not to be so worried when half of what you hear is specifically crafted to make you upset and anxious about things that didn't happen. in the end staff has a right to do what we told them they could do when we signed up, regardless of if you actually read the TOS, and unless you self-report i sincerely doubt an alt you made when you were 13 and abandoned after two days will ever get found out.

[ravensofcedar]

Edit: Expanded version now on Ao3! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48503002

Posting my NSFW thread fic from Twitter on Tumblr as well. I’m not sure how many of these I’m gonna do on Twitter, because the formatting drives me insane ;^; Once Ao3 gets back up and running, I plan on adding/refining this to post there as well, but for now, here’s some trans!Ghost giving Soap head and humping his leg after the ‘Alone’ mission.

How Ghost found himself here - on his knees in front of Soap, mask rucked up, fabric scrunched under the hard teeth of its skull plate - was less of a surprise, and more of a calculated misstep.

Graves’ betrayal, their escape through Las Almas, the relief when they hit the open road outside the city… It was all a blur, the passage of time a mere suggestion to their addled minds. 

Always be prepared for anything. 

Easy to say, but even this was another level for Ghost.

He’d grown hardened to ambushes. A knife to the throat only meant a quick readjustment, nothing more. Missions gone sideways were the norm for operatives like him. 

But, to be blindsided like that… Ghost wished he’d been more aware. He must have missed the signs.

All that training, experience, and the hardening of heart and exterior, all seemed for naught. All a means to keep himself, and those under his command, safe. 

Until now. 

Ghost didn’t break. 

Ghost wasn’t able to break. 

But Simon could…

Simon was a man unable to fight the sway of a pretty set of crystal blue eyes that widened and glimmered in the dancing lights of an explosion. 

Simon couldn’t discern between tamped down affections and playful banter that toed the line of professionalism between comrades.

Simon was a weak fool when it came to Johnny. 

Layer by layer, ice was chipped away from his frosty exterior. Every joke, every mischievous smile and little taps to his arm… It made Simon melt.

So when Soap’s eyes fell on him, wide, full of relief and clouded by the sharp sting of pain in the thick of battle, Ghost knew Simon was done for. 

So maybe, just for a few moments, they could help each other forget

Forget that they were being hunted. 

Forget that Soap was only remaining upright from stims and pain killers. 

Forget that Ghost was making the most unprofessional decision of his military career, all because of him… 

But what was the point of worrying about that now?

Just a moment to feel alive. 

That’s all they needed. 

Just a gasp of life in the dusty darkness, surrounded by bloody gauze and discarded gear. 

All to feel something other than pain and panic and the questions that 

would 

not 

stop.

Hidden behind the stacked crates inside Alejandro’s safehouse, Ghost murmured around the cock that had made its home in his throat.

He stared up at Soap, brows pitched toward each other, eyelids heavy over dewy eyes. His jaw stretched as he took a deep breath and swallowed Soap down. Throat tight around his sergeant’s cock, Ghost moaned and smashed the tip of his nose into the gasping man’s pubic hair.

The mask’s teeth pressed into Soap’s flesh, a sharp reminder that Ghost could still bite, if he so pleased. 

Soap’s legs twitched, pulling toward his body as his fingers sunk into Ghost’s mask and tugged. 

“Fuck!” Soap hissed in an attempt to keep his voice low. “Ghost…”

Just hearing his name on Soap’s lips had Simon spinning. Ghost nuzzled into Soap’s crotch and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed as he swallowed again, throat bobbing thick around his cock.

Ghost squeezed Soap’s thighs and listened to the harsh, stilted breaths coming from his own lungs as nose met lower belly with each eager bob of his head. Saliva dribbled down his chin in an obscene trail.

Slow, thick strings down his throat, accentuating his desperate gulps to keep his airway clear.

Soap was patched up and just starting to feel the effects of the painkillers Ghost had stabbed him with. Had to administer them in order to get that bullet out of Soap’s shoulder. It wasn’t ideal to mix it with the stims but the pain would have been unbearable.

Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this right now, both filthy and damp from rain and blood, coated in sweat, Soap not in his right mind. 

Ghost wondered if he should have waited. Let their heads clear instead of jumping each other the first second they got.

But Simon couldn’t help himself. Already straddled over Soap’s legs to keep him still as Ghost fished out the bullet in his shoulder, it was nothing for Simon to sink to his knees and unzip the strained fly of Soap’s jeans.

Adrenaline could do that to you. Make you think you needed to fuck the nearest, convenient hole after almost dying multiple times in the course of a couple hours. An understandable reaction, that Simon was more than willing to assist with.

Ghost screamed at him not to do it. That this was one of the worst decisions Simon could make, all for a pretty face, backed by unashamed capability and beaming personality. But he went for it with a gusto that could put the most experienced of sex workers to shame.

Lips latched firm around Soap’s cock, Ghost frantically undid the straps of his harness from his hips, yanked down his own zipper, and tugged his jeans down just enough to expose himself.

The warm strand of slick that clung to his briefs snapped as he manhandled Soap’s leg between his thighs.

Soap moaned and gripped tighter at his mask as Ghost tightened his thighs around Soap’s calf and rooted his cunt to the rough material of his jeans.

Desperate for pleasure of his own, Ghost inhaled sharply as he dragged his cock along the hard plane of Johnny’s shin, his slit catching on the fabric and adding that much needed friction he so needed.

Ghost mewled around Johnny’s cock and sucked his lower lip against his teeth. His eyelashes fluttered as he stared up at Soap, pupils blown and hips working furiously on the denim scuffing against the folds of his cunt. Ghost pressed harder, chasing the sensation.

Fuck… He could get off just like this, rutting against Soap’s leg like a bitch in heat. His arousal coated Soap’s jeans, easing the friction to a lovely glide against his cunt.

The angle wasn’t good enough. Ghost had to slouch too far to get his own pleasure. Clutching the back of Soap’s leg, Ghost lifted it into the air and whined when he split against Soap’s shin.

Taking the hint, Soap bounced his leg up higher and smirked when Ghost hissed and ground back against the pressure. Soap planted his foot against another crate, giving Ghost the perfect ledge to rest his weight on and grind into it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Simon shuddered around Soap and didn’t take his eyes off the sergeant.

 Squinted now, complete adoration in the deep, brown depths. 

He was drifting, getting lost in the motions until all he knew was Johnny and the way he looked at him. 

The way he touched him.

Hands so gentle against his jaw, guiding him through the motions, fingertips just reaching under the folds of his mask. Not enough to lift it, but enough to feel the jawline beneath and the scars that littered Ghost’s face.

Thumbs traced the raised ridges of the mask’s cheekbones, as if Soap were stroking Ghost’s face instead. 

Wanted to feel those callused pads against his skin instead. 

Should rip off the mask. Let Soap see… 

No, no, this was stupid enough already!

Ghost’s lips were getting raw, rubbed against his teeth, stretched so tight around Soap’s cock. 

“Ghost, ‘m gettin’ close…” Soap warned, his hips raising and muscles coiling with his confession. 

Ghost moaned, low in his chest, and nodded with more enthusiasm than he expected.

His eyes rolled back and clenched closed as he felt Soap stiffen against his tongue, pulsing with each pump of his orgasm. Most shot straight down his throat, every jump of Soap’s cock warm and inviting against Ghost’s lips.

Ghost couldn’t hold back the surprised gag as Soap pulled out of his throat and shuddered when more of his cum dribbled down Ghost’s lower lip and over his chin. 

“Sorry…” Soap apologized, voice a soft whisper.

Ghost said nothing. Instead, he shoved his face against Soap’s thigh and arched his back as he rutted against Soap’s leg. His tongue darted out to lick up the remnants on his lips.

Spurred on by the display, Soap swiped his thumb over Ghost’s chin and pushed the last drops into his Lieutenant's parted mouth. Ghost took it with greed and sucked his skin clean.

Muffling his own whimpers, Ghost held his breath and grabbed the underside of Soap’s leg. He pushed it against his cunt and humped against the slick denim with no shame. 

The whispered praise was nearly lost on Ghost, simply adding to his mindless chasing of pleasure.

Tighter, cunt twitching with need, empty and aching, yet filled with the delicious friction. He wrapped his arm around Soap’s thigh and held it tight, muscles a vice that strained against his jacket.

And then it all spilled over, in a wound up thread, bound too tight, breaking with the sharp snap of Ghost’s hips, cunt crushed so hard against Soap’s shin Ghost thought he might bruise the poor soldier.

Just as his body had arched to a painful bow, it relaxed, dropping to Soap’s supporting leg as they panted together in the dank silence. 

Ghost hummed at the touch of Soap’s fingertips on the back of his head. Simply stroking, with no ulterior motives.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Lt…” he breathed, eyes blitzed out and distant. Drugs, endorphins, adrenaline. Must have been a hell of an orgasm… 

Ghost drew in a shuddering breath and stumbled to his feet. Quickly, he dragged all his gear back in place and nodded.

Clarity in the scummy setting of their afterglow. 

“Right… Get some rest, Johnny…” 

Before Soap could respond, Ghost did what he was best at, and slipped away in silence.

Outside the safehouse, Ghost leaned back against the door and covered his mouth with his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, tilted his head back, and sighed, long and hard. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Simon… What the fuck is wrong with you?”

[workersolidarity]

🇷🇺🇺🇦🚨 OVERNIGHT UPDATE ON THE RUSSO-UKRAINIAN WAR DAY 618

In the Kherson direction:

A Russian recognizance unit inside Krynky was destroyed as a result of Ukrainian ambush and shelling, destroying roughly 10 soldiers as they exited the village on its southwestern outskirts.

Russian Forces were heavily shelling the Krynky area using TOS Flamethrower systems.

On the second Ukrainian foothold south of Prydniprovske, Russian Forces were bombing and shelling the forward Ukrainian positions using FPV Drones in the hope of preventing the development of the foothold in this area.

In the Zaporizhzhia direction:

Ukrainian Forces launched offensive operations to the southeast of Robotyne using armored personnel carriers and judging by the video evidence, were destroyed.

Meanwhile, Russian Forces were heavily bombing Ukrainians positions west of Verbove using FPV drones on the forward positions of Ukrainian Forces in this region, no changes in territory.

Russian Forces launched strikes against the accumulation of Ukrainian ammunition in the fortified positions in the fields southeast of Novodanylivka, resulting in a significant explosion, suggesting an ammunition depot was in fact destroyed. Secondary explosions were recorded.

In the Novomykhailivka area:

Russian Forces continued bombing and shelling Ukrainian positions in the central part of Novomykhailivka using FAB500 bombs. This story has been on repeat all week.

In the Avdiivka direction:

Video evidence suggests Ukrainian Forces have a significantly vast underground network of tunnels in the northern Avdiivka area, not unlike the tunnel network Russian Forces used to destroy Ukrainian positions to the south of the city recently.

In the Bakhmut Direction:

North of Bakhmut, to the west of Yahidne, Russian Forces were heavily using FPV Drones to hammer the forward positions of Ukrainian Forces in the fields following the rail lines where Russian Forces developed their positions here, taking a small strip of territory in recent days.

Keep in mind that with the breakout of conflict in the occupied Palestine area and the difficulty of American authorities to produce ammunition, funding and equipment to continue Ukrainian resistance, ammunition and equipment is severely lacking for Ukrainian Forces, mostly forcing their forces to depend on commercial FPV drones to provide cover for their forces and to defend territory from Russian operations.

The result has been largely standstill for Ukrainian Forces and we only see the development of positions where ammunition has not yet run dry, such as by the footholds in the Kherson direction.

As a result, American authorities are pressuring the Zelensky regime to consider a negotiated settlement or ceasefire, however so far Ukrainian authorities have rejected the suggestion and Russian authorities have made it clear a ceasefire is out of the questions due to a lack of trust by Russian leaders in the intentions of American authorities, believing a ceasefire would just mean the rearming and reconstitution of the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[screamting]

Multiple Links au

It’s been a week of traveling as a whole group. What they assume is a whole group. Surely eight is plenty, right? Not dopplegangers, not twins, not ‘shadows’, but eight people with the same name and story and sense of justice surely don’t just meet every day.

The fire has gotten roaring, and rations are handed out in organized, mostly-civil silence, because if they dare slip too much out of this rigid pattern then meals will be a free-for-all of first-come-first-serve of stolen jerky and guarded fruit and they know themselves well enough to realize that would be an unideal situation for the sake of one night of reigning over the food pile. 

So supper is dispensed in relative silence, to get it done with as fast as possible, and then is when they begin to relax a little, food in hand and weight off their feet. It is not yet night, but the calm evening hour where the sun is low but not yet near the horizon. Birds start to nest. Bats are out instead, snatching bugs out of the air.

It’s been a week. Mostly one of nodding back and forth and cautious feeling-out. A few careful spars—closer to demonstrations than a spar, even, with how they sidestep each other’s swipes and no one seems quite willing to follow through. Maybe if they found some nice long sticks instead of their swords. 

One suggests they seek out a dojo for bokken, and another asks what a dojo and a bokken is, and they all sort of-- dissolve against each other like that, bumping up against words and ideas that are much less familiar than the faces around the fire are.

It is a very strange week. Mostly filled with silence and interspersed with logistics. Where are they (not home.) Who are they (not recognized, but in a new, funhouse mirror sort of way this time.) (what was a funhouse mirror?) (Well. You see. Hm.) (They were all a bit more used to things being explained at them, not having to do the explaining. Their best friend, you see, was an explainer, and-- oh. She’s your best friend, too?)

So they were still toeing the waters, but they had toed it enough to know they couldn’t all use their real name all the time, because just an hour before a deku baba had popped by the edge of the path. 

Someone had shouted, “Link, look out!” and everyone else had turned, and it had been just as effective as shouting “look out!” to no one in particular at all.

It is not nearly as big a deal to tap someone on the shoulder and quietly point out a bird then to shout "look out!" to a group of six-or-seven armed loners spinning in all directions to find an ambush.

So they probably should figure something about about that, but all of them have only ever been gifted nicknames, not taken them, and so all seem to be waiting for the others to make a move first. 

"So," Link-with-a-blue-scarf says, setting his empty dish aside and leaning into the circle. Everyone sits up a little and leans in in response. 

Link-with-the-blue-scarf has hair cropped short and neat, and he's been the most casual about so many identical strangers. He opens with, "We should probably talk about the death thing."

A long look travels around the circle of them, unsure eyes and neutral expressions trying to read each other and gauge each other's reactions, to see if anyone else is confused or if this is something only they don't know about. 

"Um," one of the other blue ones raises his hand. It is the youngest of them, whose skin is tanned darkest and hair bleached palest, and his expression least impressed. The hammer on his back is twice as big as his head and adorned with a moblin skull. "Be more specific. Phantoms? Poes?" 

"Death?" Link of the blue scarf says. "When you die?" 

"With or without dolls?" the gangliest of them says. He has no sword, except for when the deku baba attacked, and a ruby sword appeared in his hand. 

"Um," says blue scarf. "Without dolls?"

They are all silent again, waiting for someone to explain the dolls. 

"Yeah, that might be bad," Gangly-with-dolls says. "Do all of us have to die or will it all reset if only one of us does?"

"What are you all talking about?" their cook says. Simultaneously, three others leap to their feet, all shouting, "wait, you die too?"

The tallest Link in the group stands, pulls out an ocarina, and blasts a note so shrill the night falls silent around them. 

Everyone shuts up.

The tallest Link lowers his ocarina. 

He has a full chestplate of armor and a red and white mask at his hip. His greatsword is as thick as his arm. 

"Thank you," he says. "I'm calling a time out. I was under the impression only I could die and come back, and that it was a side effect of an item I carried."

"It happens without dolls, too," Gangly-dolls says helpfully.

"What item?" Scarfy interrupts.

The tallest Link holds up his ocarina. Several of them plug their ears, but he doesn’t blow again. 

"This seems to have minor control over recent time. I have never died without it." He pauses. "Well. To my knowledge."

"Okay, well, we don't all come back," says the only Link whose hair is red. Pink, even. He had jumped up and shouted before, and now sat down again cross-legged and cross-armed, frowning. "Because the hero before me died and stayed dead, and it was kind of a problem."

"Maybe they weren't really the hero?" Scarf says, but it is half-hesitant. Unconvinced.

"I wasn't the hero," says the boy with the skull hammer. "But I also didn't die until after I became the hero, so."

(One of them is sitting very still, looking very pale. Nauseous even. He is loosening the shawl around his neck and tugging on his collar. They are politely ignoring him, because if he is not kicking a fuss he is probably trying to hide it. If he does vomit, they'll swarm him.)

"Okay, but all of us here have died, right?" Blue-Scarf says, looking around the suddenly animated circle. No one happy but everyone is listening. The Link who's self-appointed as cook each night has gone pale too, and the redhead has started ripping up grass where he sits. "I've never died around someone who also can die, and so I'm not sure either what the mechanics would be, and no one has died so far, I'm assuming?" 

No one spoke to disagree. 

"Okay. We need to decide now if when that potentially happens, what kind of reactions we are going to take. If we're going to press forward and presume we are regular people in this instance, or if we believe a total party kill is necessary, and if so: do the survivors press on and scout, potentially losing people forever, or are we risking a weeks-long reset if there’s a long period between the first and last death? What's the longest anyone's gone back?"

"Few hours."

"Urp…"

"Hour or two, yeah."

"Four hours."

"This is a terrible question."

"Three days," says the one with the ocarina. "...though, apparently, I have been misreading the cause."

There are a couple nods, and one, "I mean, you can time travel without dying, so," which from the redhead which goes ignored. 

Scarfy speaks up again. "Okay. So, it seems to prefer very short term. So, I'm not excited to say it, but if we suffer a casualty it seems like a fast total party kill would be the… yes?"

A hand has gone up. It is their self-appointed cook. He carries no bags with him, or swords, or bedroll, or spare cloak. Just a slab on his hip, beset with lapis and gold. His skin is two-toned, his arm and half his face tanning differently on one side of his body than the other.

The hand is shaking. 

"Hi. Uh." He lowers his hand to cover his mouth. He clears his throat. The hand still shakes, even when his voice doesn’t. "I think there's been a mistake."

[supereffectivemoonblast]

After taking the afternoon off to recover from the ordeal at the Life Dome, Aerith, Ramiel, and Brucey visit the Silken Squall the next day. At the edge of Ank'Harel, twin rope bridges lead up to the floating city, wooden decks built on top of a magically solidified cloud as foundation. A variety of tents, wooden lean-tos, sheds, and the occasional metal structure litter a three tiered settlement that looks more like a carnival than a town. And the majority of performers and craftsmen are Air Genasi.

The trio arrive on the lowest deck of the squall and get breakfast from a stall. Nearby, they spot an automaton trying to sell pamphlets, and when it has moments alone, attempting to practice juggling. Aerith approaches and teaches the robot what she knows, and it is very impressed. It introduces itself as Bell, and explains the stamp book game her friend Guston is offering. The group like Bell, but assume Guston might be a scammer, so tell the robot they'll come by again later.

The Silken Squall - Linda Lithén

They visit a dedicated Jewellery store called Argent Light, and browse some wares, then visit a Winery called Barrel of Clouds, where an older Air Genasi named Turb tells them about a vermin problem. Shiny things and food have gone missing over the last couple weeks, and he suspects a nest of rats he's recently discovered in his cellar. Aerith and her allies offer to clear out the rats and he'll pay them.

They spot the rats immediately, but while they're slaying them, a volley of arrows appears from somewhere and starts a fire from one of the alcohol barrels. After dealing with the rats, they find a hole in the wall of the cellar leading into a tunnel dug through the cloud supporting the city.

Aerith scouts ahead and notices a variety of traps laid out to trip them up. Soon, she catches a pair of Kobolds, who answer their questions with violence. Ramiel and Brucey back up Aerith and they have soon found and defeated four Kobolds hiding behind Barrels or in the walls of the cloud tunnel. They leave one alive, named Plop, and intimidate it into leading them towards the Kobold leading this infestation.

Plop leads them through the tunnel, finding several piles of treasure, some more traps, and a few more Kobolds, which they all slay in front of Plop's eyes. Eventually they push through into the basement of an armory shop, and are ambushed by a group of Kobolds who had poorly fitted themselves out with weapons and armour too big for them. They are slightly more challenged by this group, but Aerith, Ramiel, and Brucey exterminate the Kobolds.

One of the Kobolds had a sack with all the stuff it had stolen, and they find jewels, potions, gold etc, and even a tattered copy of the Stamp Book. The trio assume this is the stolen goods Turb mentioned.

They take two Kobolds they had kept alive and bound back up with them, and Turb advises they should alert the Wyvernwinds, the de facto leaders of the Silken Squall. Caelus and Aurora Wyvernwind thank the party for their help, and give them a writ they can use as a Gift Card to pay for some of the goods on the Squall.

A little battered, but otherwise still excited by the markets, the group start to equate themselves with more of the shops on the squall. They first go to Kotter the blacksmith, and tell him why his basement was barred shut. They also buy some armour from him.

Next they revisit the jewel shop, and visit a bookstore, and a potion store, returning some of items they found in the Kobold's stash. They also collect some Stamps from these shops, having to get to know each merchant before guessing which stamp is theirs. At the potion store, they also get a request from the store owner's assistant to brave the caves around the city to find a precious stone called Ank'Harel Lapus.

Next session, the trio will visit more stores, get more stamps, and search for the Ank'Harel Lapus, with promise of quite the reward.

[baronaliswritingcorner]

TOS Replay Stray Thoughts #5

-“You’re as devious as you look.”

Feast, Raine/Sheena faithful. Feast on that line. Mmm.

-“Ahh! Help me, please!”

...screams a local priest as he leisurely strolls away from Clara. The limitations of TOS's graphics engine provides some unintentional comedy, although I say that knowing full well the dev team were gritting their teeth.

-Kinda prefer Sheena joining after your first trip to the Asgard ranch rather than in Luin – aside from the latter feeling too abrupt, it's simply better storytelling given that a) she's repaid her debt by saving the Chosen's group and b) she's had a night to digest the horrible truth surrounding Exspheres. Don't know if she'd stay quiet about her objective until after the Tower of Mana, but still.

-“These are all Exspheres? Incredible…”

Lloyd, you sweet summer child.

-What’s with Botta suddenly stopping in the middle of their escape? I think it's meant to telegraph the Desian ambush, but it's poorly choreographed and nothing makes any sense, lol

"Wow, Lloyd -- isn't this usually the other way around?"

Y'know, usually lines like this run the risk of trivializing serious scenes, but as evidenced by Lloyd's comeback it does highlight Genis's immaturity -- much as he relies on his education to compensate. (That, and it is funny.)

-"Ah, I see some of you know me."

...does Kvar know of Kratos's true identity/purpose? He sorta and sorta doesn't step around it.

-Love how the overworld Desians just slow-walk towards you. “Oh, hey, yeah…you…get back here…or whateves…

-boy they really couldn't telegraph that kratos reveal enough huh

(I mean, I guess you could argue this with his first scene as well, but his flailing mouth at discovering Lloyd's survival is one of my favorite little touches. Shame they removed that in the PS2 port.)

-So, Exsphere manufacturing -- how...does it work? Kvar says they're initially dormant and feed off human life, but where exactly do they come from? The Toize Valley Mine? We know Cruxis/Desians can travel between the worlds at will, so that tracks, but the Presea/Tabatha sidequest where they "listen to the voice of the Exspheres" throws a monkey wrench into that explanation. (And, of course, doesn't make any sense -- they obviously wouldn't have absorbed anyone beneath the earth.)

Doesn't help we just witnessed a whole line-up of people instantly turn into shipping containers, either. I'm sure console limitations played a part there, but it certainly makes things more confusing.

-On that note, how do you take off Exspheres? Be it Key Crests or skin implants, that sounds pretty, uh, tough. And painful. Ick, it hurts just thinking about it!

-By the way, we know who Lloyd and Genis’s Exspheres were, but did you ever stop to think about the others? Now that's some fun headcanon material – just imagine the poor sap in Raine’s Exsphere going “aw geez, look at this weirdo” when she goes into Ruin Mode.

-Picking "No!" during the Exsphere campfire scene is essential -- really, I'm a sucker for Lloyd's speeches/monologues and everything from him spending the night wrestling over the ethics of using his mother's life to both help Colette and end the cycle of Exspheres to Kratos stopping by to give a cryptic pep talk to "I'm sure my mother wanted to live longer than she did" gets me every time.

-“There was someone who escaped from the ranch. He may know another way in.”

We knew Luin hid people from the ranch, but Raine's line here makes it sound like it was just Pietro.

-The "Desian Curse" is interesting -- there's the commonfolk interpretation of their degrading health, for one, but there's more unsettling implications there with prisoners' dependency on Desian treatments, experiments and whatnot. Ghastly.

...of course, there's the question of this only occurring in Asgard escapees, but you know Kvar and his cruelty.

-ew look at Sheena’s jiggle physics

-Using this magic orb to push a boulder to cover a hidden entrance seems a little…convoluted??? how did Pietro do this. why was even a thing.

-….so what was Kvar doing with the Mana Cannon, anyway? More on that later.

-Kvar, now there’s a villain. Kinda wish he had more screentime ala Rodyle/Pronyma, but what's there is deliciously cruel. A shame the blurry Gamecube textures can't capture the unnatural black of his thin eyes, so he just looks squinty. Maybe he needs glasses.

-Dat Lloyd/Kratos team-up. Dat Colette trying to hide her non-existent (or not-so-non-existent?) pain. Dat Lloyd confessing everything. Goooooood stuff.

-Ever notice how many 3D RPGs just have the characters sleep on the beds as opposed to beneath the covers? For all of Tales of Symphonia's graphical shortcomings, Colette in that Asgard scene is surprising deviation from the norm there. -aw geez I missed the third Kratos training scene! Ugh. Welp, YouTube time.

"But even if I get to be your age, I don't think I'll be as calm as you."

"Ah, I'm not sure about that."

Does Lloyd ever look back on these conversations and just go "...oh."

[jcmarchi]

Defenders of Ukraine Showed How They Use Czech Howitzers DANA - Technology Org

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Defenders of Ukraine Showed How They Use Czech Howitzers DANA - Technology Org

Artillery is still a very important part of modern warfare. Especially self-propelled howitzers that can quickly react to the movement of enemy forces. The defenders of Ukraine showed how they successfully attacked a column of Russian armoured vehicles with Czech self-propelled howitzers DANA.

DANA howitzer in Ukraine. Ukraine got a large number of these howitzers in 2022. Image credit: АрміяInform via Wikimedia (CC BY 4.0)

A short video showing the actions of the defenders of Ukraine was released by the Commander of the Ground Forces of Ukraine, Oleksandr Pavlyuk. He did not reveal where the operation took place or when the video was taken but it involved the 21st and 56th Mechanised Brigades of Ukraine.

“Enemy infantry, TOS-1A Solntsepyok, a tank and a BMP with soldiers were destroyed,” Pavlyuk wrote. The TOS-1A is a multiple launch rocket system, sometimes called a heavy flamethrower due to its thermobaric rounds. It is a particularly hated weapon by the Ukrainians and the most expensive weapon mentioned by Pavlyuk.

This attack was carried out by drones and Czech howitzers DANA. If you want to be precise, the DANA is not a Czech, but a Czechoslovakian howitzer, which is reflected in its 152.4 mm calibre, typical of Eastern Bloc countries. However, Ukraine received these howitzers from the Czech Republic, which is one of Ukraine’s strongest military supporters.

The DANA howitzer was created around 1976 and entered service in 1981. It is a large artillery piece mounted on a Tatra 8×8 chassis. Weighing around 30 tonnes, this weapon is said to be capable of reaching speeds of up to 80 km/h and performs very well off-road. This is important because howitzers like the DANA are often on a quick-fire mission and retreat so that the enemy can’t calculate their location using counter-battery radars. DANA howitzers usually participate in shoot-and-scoot operations.

DANA’s internal ammunition compartment holds 60 rounds. More can be delivered using other machines. This howitzer destroys targets at a distance of up to 20 km and its rate of fire is 2-5 shots per minute. In addition to the main gun, the DANA also has a 12.7 mm machine gun, mainly needed for self-defence in case it is ambushed while on the move from one position to another. The crew of the DANA howitzer consists of 5 soldiers.

In 2021, a modernized version of DANA M2 with improved fire control and communication systems was introduced. DANA actually became the basis of several modern self-propelled howitzers. For example, the 155 mm Zuzana and DITA are close relatives of the DANA howitzer. Ukraine is still waiting for its DITAs, but soon it will be operating pretty much all versions of DANA.

The DANA is a quick and reliable howitzer. It can deliver quick blows to the advancing Russian forces and then retreat. Ukraine will need more of these kinds of weapons in the near future and it’s good to know that they are coming.

Written by Povilas M.

Sources: Tech.wp.pl, Wikipedia

[weerd1]

ENT Rewatch Starlog, 07 January, 2024: Episode 2.26 “The Expanse”

An unknown probe comes to Earth and cuts a 4000 kilometer swath across the surface of the planet from Florida to Venezuela, killing as many as seven million people. When the Enterprise returns home, they are intercepted by the Suliban, and Archer is given an audience with the mysterious “Future Guy” who controls the Suliban. He reveals that other future factions have told a species called “The Xindi” that Earth will be responsible for their destruction in the 26th Century. FG gives Archer a location and tells him that the Xindi must be stopped or the timeline will be altered.

The NX-01 continues to Earth, but Duras, a Klingon Archer embarrassed a few episodes back, attacks.  He is warned off by the timely arrival of other Starfleet vessels, allowing Archer to tell Starfleet about Future Guy’s info. It turns out the Xindi are located in the Delphic Expanse, and area known for strange spatial anomalies, and generally impassible; Vulcans have been driven mad just entering the area, and a Klingon ship once had its crew “anatomically inverted.” Starfleet decides to carry on with the mission, re-arming Enterprise and assigning a military contingent. Trip discovers that his sister is one of Florida’s casualties, and begins to express anger and the desire to seek revenge. Phlox chooses to stay on board, while T’Pol is reassigned by the Vulcan High Command back to her homeworld. The NX-01 is going to drop her off on the way to The Expanse when Duras attacks again, allowing Enterprise to show she’s got more teeth now, including “photonic torpedoes.” 

T’Pol reveals that she has decided to resign from the Vulcan High Command in order to stay on Enterprise; Archer initially argues, but then orders them to change course away from Vulcan and head straight to the Expanse. When they arrive seven weeks later they are AGAIN  ambushed by Duras, this time with three ships. They skirmish in the thermobaric clouds bordering the Expanse, and as they get closer, Duras’ escorts break off rather than enter. Mayweather pulls off some fancy flying and Enterprise destroys Duras’ Bird of Prey. She’s taken some damage though to the antimatter injectors; not enough to stop them but something that may be important later. Archer confirms once more with T’Pol that she wants to join them, and the NX-01 enters the Delphic Expanse.

I’ve done these in the past where I did complete rewatches and write-ups for TOS and DS9. I wanted to do ENT as well, but started rewatching in chunks and bits and fell into a pattern without really catching them all, and like the entire world, have been just CRAZED the last three years and didn’t get there. But along the way I ended up watching all of Season 2 again, and wanted some opportunities to talk ENT.  I did recently make this post about the show in general, but when I started “The Expanse” this morning, it seemed like a good compromise to just follow the Xindi arc.  

As I recall, this fell at a time when Enterprise was taking a lot of shit-much of it deserved (some blatant sexism, plenty of cookie-cutter plots)—and DS9 was really starting to find an audience as it had finally made it to home video and you could watch THEM ALL IN ORDER AS RON D. MOORE INTENDED. There was a lot of buzz out there from Trek “fans” (and proto-internet dudebros and gatekeepers, and that was probably me in the case of the latter) about ENT not living up to canon or continuity.  To try to reel in some of that griping, TPTB (“the powers that  be” as we used to call them on Message Boards and Yahoo Groups etc.) decided to try to up some stakes, and go the DS9 route of a season long arc. Additionally, please know we were all living in a VERY fresh open wound post-9/11 and the inexorable hold that event would have on American film and television for about the next two decades (and perhaps now) was very much in play. So here comes the Xindi storyline.  

The set-up is good; the threat seems real, the Vulcans’ skepticism about the temporal Cold War works here, and T’Pol having to decide if she will stay on work well.

Trip being the crewmember personally affected is interesting, if cliche that a sister we didn’t even know he had is his connection. I might have had a few more characters know SOMEONE; the destruction did cut through Cuba and into Venezuela. Could have been a point for more characters, but fridging Trip’s sister does set up some trauma to explore through the third season; could have been handled better.  I always thought it was a bit of a stretch that an Duras ancestor would still be such a Klingon dickbag 200 years before Worf, but this episode efficiently cuts him out of Archer’s narrative and adds some damage to the NX-01 that will come into play later with those antimatter injectors damaged.  Not an edge of your seat cliffhanger, but a good set up for the next season, and it certainly brought me back.  

Next Voyage: Season 3 begins with “The Xindi,” getting right into just WHO these Florida-burning bad guys are!

(Images copied from the library at @trekcore; I will happily remove them if there is any issue with me using them. Meanwhile, all you Trekkies, go hit Trekcore! They're a fantastic resource.)