#truth about root canals

[ordinary-barbie]

i burn for you.

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

summary: You hated Rafe Cameron. He lived to annoy you. There couldn't be anything more to your relationship—right?

word count: 3.5k

tags: fem!sassy kook!reader, enemies to lovers, cussing, sexual tension, underage drinking, dry humping, sappy ending

title from "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams!

~ • ~

It is a truth universally acknowledged that whenever you hung out with Sarah Cameron, her older brother Rafe was sure to appear. Didn't matter if it was at Tannyhill or the beach or some random Kook's party. Rafe always showed up at some point, to your utter dismay.

You'd moved to the Outer Banks the summer before ninth grade, feeling like you crash-landed on another planet. Kildare was not a huge place, and everyone else seemed to have known each other since birth, already forming their little cliques. You were a Kook—though you thought the whole "Kooks vs. Pogues" rivalry was pretty silly—but you felt like you couldn't fit in with all the pretty and popular girls. You thought making friends would be hopeless, until Sarah swooped in and took you under her wing.

Sarah was so sweet and funny; she quickly became like the sister you never had. It was just a shame that she had to be related to...him. Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. The guy always knew exactly how to push your buttons, whether it was getting into your personal space, snatching stuff out of your hand and refusing to get it back, and constant sarcastic comments—though you could always give as well as you got.

Today you were chilling at Tannyhill with Sarah, watching the pilot episode of Gilmore Girls because she'd somehow gone 19 years without watching one of the most iconic shows of all time. It was such a comfort show for you, and you were happy to be experiencing it with your bestie. Well, until you know who decided to flop down next to you on the couch, radiating with irritating frat boy energy.

"Y'all decided to have a movie night and not invite me?" Rafe fake pouted, putting his arm around you. You scowled, pushing it away.

"First of all, Gilmore Girls is a TV show. And secondly, why would we invite you? Don't need your mouth-breathing self ruining the vibes," you snapped.

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Chill out, princess. I promise I don't have cooties," he replied with a smirk.

"Now that, I highly doubt," you muttered.

Sarah sighed, pausing the episode. "Really guys? This again?" Poor Sarah had been witness to years of arguments between you and Rafe, and you did feel bad that she had to be caught in the middle. But maybe he should be less annoying—then you wouldn't be forced to bite back.

Rafe raised his hands in a show of innocence, though you knew he was anything but. "Hey Sar, I'm just here to watch the show. Not my fault your bestie here wants to bite my head off."

You scoffed, trying your best not to roll your eyes upwards towards oblivion. "Yeah, right, like you give a shit about Gilmore Girls. And I want to bite your head off because you're an insufferable ass."

"So you think about my ass, huh?" Ugh, you wanted to slap that smug look off of his face. You hated how the amused glint in his eyes and his lazy smile stirred feelings in you that you absolutely refused to acknowledge.

"In your fucking dreams, Rafe Cameron," you answered, scowling.

Rafe's smirk grew deeper. "Please, you wish I would dream about you."

"I think I'd rather have a root canal," you snarked.

"Okay, chill! Rafe, either watch the show with us or go away," Sarah said wearily, rubbing at her temples.

Rafe scooted closer to you on the couch, knocking his knee against yours. "I'm down. What do you say, princess?"

Your annoyance had morphed into a slowly simmering rage at Rafe's favorite nickname for you. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face before saying, "Sure, why not?"

You came to regret your decision as soon as Sarah pressed play. While you and Sarah could watch shows together in comfortable silence, only adding occasional commentary, Rafe would not shut the fuck up. He always had something to say, whether it was about the dialogue ("Why the fuck do they talk so fast?") or the characters' appearances ("Lorelai is a fuckin MILF, I gotta admit.") It was a wonder you got through the episode without completely losing your shit.

Before you could at least try to enjoy the second episode, Sarah's phone rang. "It's John B," she explained, smiling sheepishly. She got off the couch and went upstairs to talk to her boyfriend in private.

"Well well well, looks like it's just you and me, princess," Rafe purred, taking the opportunity to put his arm around you again.

Your heart hammered in your chest. You were so close to Rafe that you could smell him—that heady mix of sea salt after an afternoon of surfing with Topper, cologne, and whatever detergent the maid had used to wash his clothes. If this was any other boy, you'd lean in, inhaling the scent. But this was Rafe, so you squirmed out of his grip, your stomach churning.

"Can you behave yourself for one second? You're like a middle schooler," you snapped.

Rafe chuckled. "Relax, princess. Get your panties out of a twist for once."

Your eye twitched. "I'd call you scum, but that would be an insult to scum."

"I love scum, drop the s though," Rafe casually responded, flashing you a lecherous grin.

You pretended to gag. "You're a Neanderthal."

"Keep talking dirty to me, baby, I love it," Rafe said, dramatically clutching his chest.

You were so relieved when you heard Sarah bounding down the stairs. She settled back onto her place on the couch, seemingly unaware of the tension that had sparked up in her absence.

Sarah stared at you and Rafe, arching an eyebrow. "Did y'all manage to behave yourselves while I was gone?"

"Rafe was—"

"Oh, we had a great time together," Rafe interrupted, smirking. "Just hanging out with my bestie!"

"I am not your bestie," you corrected, your voice dripping with venom, though that only amused Rafe more.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Anyway. Who's ready for episode two?"

You picked up the remote and pressed play, immersing yourself in Rory and Lorelai's quirky world. Thankfully, Rafe was quiet—but you couldn't ignore the feeling of his gaze, laser-focused on you the entire time.

Against your better judgment, you'd allowed Sarah to drag you to a party.

Normally, you'd be along for the ride. As long as the music was good and the snacks and drinks were decent, you could vibe, whether it was a frat party at UNC or a bonfire at the beach. But this wasn't just any party; it was a Topper Thornton party. And as Topper's best friend, Rafe would definitely be there.

"You better not make me regret this, Sarah Cameron," you grumbled, fiddling with one of the spaghetti straps on your black tank top.

Sarah just giggled. "C'mon, it'll be fun! I promise."

You weren't holding your breath, but you allowed Sarah to hook your arm in hers and lead you into Topper's house anyway.

"Ladies! Welcome to the shit show," Topper greeted you and Sarah, wrapping his arms around both of you.

Shit show was an apt description. Music was blasting so loudly that it was making the house shake. A sea of people was milling about the place, with dozens of overlapping conversations. There were even loud shrieks and splashes as guests messed around in the Thorntons' pool.

"Oh, _____, Rafe is somewhere around here, I think," Topper said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. "As if I would care where Rafe is."

Topper snickered. "Yeah yeah, sure."

Topper was convinced that you and Rafe had a thing for each other, which was, frankly, ridiculous. You and him? Please.

"You gonna get us some drinks or what?" Sarah asked Topper, putting her hands on her hips. Topper gave the two of you salutes and was back in a flash with two red Solo cups full of a bright blue liquid. He and Sarah may have been broken up, but there was still a part of him that was wrapped around her finger.

Sarah downed her drink immediately, but you were more cautious, giving it a sniff first before taking a sip. It tasted like blue Hawaiian punch with a dash of pineapple juice, vodka, and rum—not a terrible combo.

As the party rolled along, you began to loosen up. The playlist was banging, you and Sarah were having the time of your lives dancing, and the best part? Rafe was nowhere to be seen.

You dipped out of the living room area to use the bathroom, and when you came back, Sarah was putting her jean jacket back on, an apologetic smile on her face. "John B says the Pogues are having a bonfire at the beach so I think I'm gonna stop by there. Sofia's gonna pick me up."

You felt a pang of sadness but you understood. The Pogues were important to Sarah, and you weren't gonna keep her from her boyfriend and other friends.

"You wanna come? I'm sure Sofia has extra room in her car," Sarah offered.

You considered the offer for a second, but felt hesitant, as if some invisible tether was keeping you here. (A voice in the back of your head whispered thoughts of a certain guy, but you were quick to shove them to the furthest corner of your mind.) John B was chill, and his friends were always nice to you. But this time, you weren't in the mood for another party.

"Nah, I'll be fine here," you assured Sarah. "Go have fun! But not too much fun."

"Yes mom," Sarah responded, playfully rolling her eyes.

After a few minutes, Sofia arrived to pick up Sarah, leaving you to your own devices. You felt your social battery draining, so you flopped down on one of Topper's living room couches, mindlessly scrolling through social media to pass the time.

“Is this seat taken?” you suddenly heard a husky voice say. You looked up from your phone and were greeted by the sight of Spencer Bingham, who you vaguely knew from having a few classes together back at Kildare Academy.

To put it simply, the guy was cute. He had shaggy light brown hair, twinkling gray eyes, and the most dazzling smile. "Go right ahead," you offered casually, though you were internally swooning.

"So how've you been? I haven't seen you since graduation," Spencer wondered.

"Oh I've been good," you replied, smiling shyly. "Really enjoying it at UNC. How about you?"

Spencer matched your smile, putting his hands behind his head. "Oh I'm great. Loving Penn State and the lacrosse team. Though there are some things I miss about Kildare that I can’t find up north."

You giggled. “And what might those be?”

“Well, the girls, for starters,” Spencer answered, shooting you a flirtatious grin. “Specifically, you.”

Your mouth dropped open. You wouldn’t call yourself ugly, but you hadn’t exactly been Miss Popular with the boys of Kildare. You admittedly harbored a tiny crush on Spencer during junior year, but never even considered that he would be interested in you.

Spencer noticed your shocked expression and chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised! You’re a total catch—I’ve seen your Insta pics.”

You ducked your head down, suddenly feeling shy. Slowly but surely, you were being more confident in your looks and comfortable with your social media photos. You still had to get used to fielding compliments from people though, trying your best to silence that minuscule voice of self-doubt that lurked in the corner of your mind.

Spencer lifted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Can…Can I kiss you?” he asked, suddenly more bashful than before.

You nodded, giving him the green light. You’d been kissed before, but it was an unremarkable smooch during a game of truth or dare in tenth grade. Spencer gave you a real kiss—soft and slow, like something out of a rom com.

Eventually the two of you parted, catching your breaths.

You rubbed the back of your neck. “That was—I really liked that, Spencer.”

Spencer grinned. “We could keep doing it, if you want.”

“And what do we have here? The nerd finally hooks up with the jock. So cute.”

You stiffened, scowling at that all-too-familiar voice. “Rafe. I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you, but I’d be lying.”

Rafe snickered, leering at you. “I noticed I hadn’t gotten to bother my favorite person tonight so I went looking for you. Imagine my surprise when I find you sucking face with Bingham. Are the pickings really that slim at PSU, Spence?”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Don't you have some blonde girl with big boobs you could be making out with instead of bothering us?" you snapped.

Rafe's smirk deepened. "Bothering you is more fun, princess. You're pretty hot when you're angry."

Your stomach betrayed you by doing a backflip at Rafe's words. Damn him. "You're insufferable."

"Thanks baby, that means a lot," Rafe smugly answered.

Spencer cleared his throat, looking awkwardly between you and Rafe. "Look...I don't know what's going on here, so I'm gonna go. See you around, ____. Nice chattin' with ya." He flashed you one last smile before getting up, leaving you alone with Rafe. Wonderful.

"What the fuck, Rafe? There was a perfectly nice guy who was totally into me, and you just ruined it." You were absolutely fuming. It was annoying enough that Rafe lived to push your buttons, but to essentially cockblock you as well?

Rafe snorted. "Come on, princess. Bingham couldn't handle a girl like you."

You clenched your jaw, glaring daggers into Rafe. "And what is that supposed to mean?" you demanded.

Rafe crossed his arms, huffing. "He's just not right for you, okay?"

"And how would you know who's right for me?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

For once, Rafe was silent. You rolled your eyes at him and hopped off the couch, completely done with his bullshit.

"Where ya goin'?" Rafe asked, furrowing his brows.

"Home," you curtly replied. "I'll just walk."

"Right, because it's such a genius idea to walk alone...at night...in those shoes," Rafe snarked. "Let me drive you."

You sneered at him. "No thanks. You're probably drunk anyway."

"'m actually sober, sweetheart," Rafe replied.

You let out a huff of surprise. "Rafe Cameron, not drinking at a party? Either the world is ending or you must've hit your head."

"Jus' didn't feel like drinking tonight, all right? Especially since Sarah asked me to make sure you got home," Rafe said, the tips of his ears turning pink as he looked away from you.

You felt a pang in your chest. You loved Sarah for looking out for you, but you weren't prepared for Rafe to actually care about you or your well-being.

You sighed, not having the energy to argue anymore. "Okay, fine. Take me home."

The drive back to your place was uncharacteristically silent. Normally, whenever Rafe would drive you and Sarah places, he'd have a Spotify playlist blaring, or he'd be running his annoying mouth. But Rafe was focused on the road, not even sparing a second glance at you. You should've enjoyed this, relishing in the quietness. But something just felt...off.

You were relieved when Rafe finally pulled into your driveway. "Hey—thanks for driving me home. I appreciate it."

You went to open your car door, but Rafe put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you felt rooted to your spot, transfixed by his unreadable expression. What you wouldn't give to know what was going through Rafe Cameron's mind right now.

Rafe unbuckled his seatbelt and moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hands. Your heart fluttered in your chest in anticipation. Then, he softly kissed you on the lips.

A million different emotions raced through your mind as you felt his lips on yours. Before you could fully process what was happening, Rafe pulled away, stroking your lower lip. You shivered at his gentle touch.

Rafe cleared his throat, his ears flushing a bright red. "Um. So. Have a good night, princess."

You opened the car door and climbed out, flashing Rafe a nervous smile. "Yeah, have a good night, Rafe."

You found yourself replaying Rafe's kiss in your mind that night. Spencer's kiss had been nice, but Rafe? Of course, he was the one that had your head spinning.

Things had definitely shifted since...that thing happened after Topper's party. You and Rafe, usually firey with each other, had cooled off significantly. You felt like you would combust every time he spared a glance at you. It got to the point where you would refuse Sarah's invitations to Tannyhill, not risking the chance of seeing Rafe around.

Unsurprisingly, Sarah grew tired of both of your bullshit. "You're coming over," she said while the two of you hung out in your room, her voice not leaving any room for argument.

"Sarah, I—"

Sarah held up a hand. "Nope! No excuses! You and Rafe haven't spoken to each other for a week, and it's kinda freaking me out. You're coming over right now and both of you are gonna sort your shit out."

Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Sarah, so you conceded and agreed to go back to Tannyhill with her. You just had to ignore that your stomach was doing Olympic-level gymnastics at the thought of talking to Rafe.

When you reached Tannyhill, Rafe was on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Sarah whistled to get Rafe's attention and he looked up, blushing furiously at the sight of you. You nervously looked away, wishing you could sprout wings and fly out of there. Why did things have to be so weird?

"I'll leave y'all to it," Sarah said, bounding up the stairs.

Rafe cleared his throat. "So...you wanna sit down?"

You gulped, nodding, and joined Rafe on the couch. You wracked your brain, trying to think of a way to broach the subject you and Rafe had been dancing around for a week. Hey Rafe! So remember when you kissed me that night? I know I hate your guts, but I actually liked that!

"So—"

"Well—"

You and Rafe laughed, slightly easing the tension.

"So...about that kiss," you said, twiddling your thumbs.

Rafe awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Look, ____. I know I give you a lot of shit, but I actually really like you. Like, a lot. And I fucked around with you because it was the only way I could get your attention. When I saw you with Bingham that night? I was jealous. Because that should be me."

You took a deep breath, trying to process Rafe's words before you went forward with your own confession. "Rafe—I like you too. And I really didn't want to, especially with your charming personality." Rafe snorted.

"I tried so hard to push those feelings down to protect myself," you continued. "But when you kissed me, everything just bubbled to the surface. So I ran away instead of actually dealing with my emotions. I really liked that kiss. And I'm scared of how much I enjoyed it."

Rafe gazed at you fondly, and you felt like you would melt right there on the couch. You wished he would look at you like that for as long as he wanted to.

"You're probably the funniest girl I know. And you're kind, and smart, and hot as fuck," Rafe said, lazily raking his eyes over your body.

"You're all right too, I guess," you replied with mock indifference, shrugging your shoulders.

"You're insufferable," Rafe muttered, rolling his eyes, though there wasn't any real heat to his words.

You smirked. "But you like me anyway."

Rafe grinned. "That's true." He leaned in close, looking at you hesitantly before you silently gave him permission. Rafe kissed you deeply, pinning you to the couch. You eagerly kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him.

"I've been wanting to do this for so fucking long," Rafe admitted, littering the side of your neck with kisses. You let out a whine, arching your back. You were such an idiot. You could’ve been experiencing Rafe’s mouth on you all this time.

“I think little Rafe is trying to say hello,” you wryly remarked, feeling a bulge poking you in the side. Rafe chuckled, his laugh warming your insides.

“So say hi,” Rafe purred in your ear, shifting you so your clothed crotch was right on top of the bulge in his jeans. You started grinding against his clothed erection, the two of you letting out moans of pleasure at the friction between you. You were trying your best to be quiet since Sarah was right upstairs, but it felt so so so good.

“Gonna cum, princess,” Rafe muttered before letting out a grunt. “Fuck…I haven’t cum in my pants like that in a while. You see what you do to me, baby?”

You shyly giggled, burying your face in his neck. Rafe softly smiled at you, kissing your forehead. The two of you laid on the couch, enjoying the comfortable silence before falling asleep.

Click!

Your eyes fluttered open at the intrusion, noticing a grinning Sarah holding her phone at you and Rafe.

Rafe stirred soon afterward. “Baby, what…” he trailed off, noticing his sister. “Sarah?”

“Sorry, but y’all looked too cute,” Sarah replied, giggling.

“I’ll forgive you if you send me that pic,” you said.

Rafe pouted. “Babe, I’m probably drooling and shit.”

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down, it’s not like I’m gonna use it to hard launch us or anything. But it’s scientifically impossible for you to look bad in a photo anyway.”

Rafe smirked. “Wow, you’re really obsessed with me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, giving Rafe a shove. He just laughed, giving you a peck on the lips.

You and Rafe’s phones both dinged twice with messages from Sarah, one with the candid photo and a follow-up message that said “You guys make me sick ❤️”

You looked at the photo, your heart swelling as you gazed at the image of you and Rafe. You were sleeping soundly, with your face pressed against Rafe's chest and his arms wrapping around your midsection protectively.

"Making this my lockscreen immediately," Rafe said, warming your heart.

Sarah pretended to gag, but she looked fondly at you and Rafe. "Glad y'all finally got your heads out of your asses."

"Me too. Especially Rafe. His was stuck waaay up there," you joked.

Rafe playfully rolled his eyes at you. "I was waiting for you to pull it out, babe."

"Okay, now I'm getting sick again," Sarah deadpanned, flopping down on the couch next to you.

You laughed. "Hey, why don't we watch Gilmore Girls again? I haven't forgotten your Stars Hollow education, Sar."

"Hey, I'm down," Sarah said, finding the remote and turning on Netflix.

"Where did we leave off?" Rafe asked.

"We didn't make it past episode 2 because someone decided they were bored," you dryly responded, shooting Rafe a pointed look.

Rafe smirked. "That was the old me, baby. I swear I've changed."

You shook your head, but you couldn't hide your ear-splitting grin. As Sarah started the episode and Rafe pulled you close to him, you felt a sense of peace. You never could've imagined yourself in this position a few weeks ago, or even yesterday. But in this moment, everything felt right. And while you were annoyed by it before, you'd let Rafe follow you wherever you went.

[luzial]

Writing Masterpost

I write Solavellan. You may see some other stuff on my AO3 and I love that stuff too but let's be real, I'm pretty much just the one thing and I am obsessed. It used to be all Angst and UST all the time but now there's plenty of Fluff and Smut as well. Asks are always open. I love prompts. Chat is also fine.

Here's the stuff I wrote that I'd love for you to read:

Overgrown Solavellan | Modern AU | Enemies to Lovers | Eventual Smut Rating: E | Complete | 93,911 words | 27 chapters

Ellana Lavellan is an investigative journalist assigned to cover an excavation in the Arbor Wilds. Her editors have received a tip that the dig may uncover new information about the "Final Inquisitor," a mysterious figure from the Dragon Age about whom almost nothing is known. Ellana teams up with a history professor to investigate the story.

Roots (sequel to Overgrown) Solavellan | Modern AU | Idiots in Love | Occasional Smut Rating: E | Actively Updating (aprox weekly)

With the identity of the Final Inquisitor now revealed to the world, Ellana Lavellan (an investigative journalist) and Solas (a history professor) team up again to dive deeper into the mysteries of the Dragon Age as well as a series of strange phenomena that have been reported across Thedas.

the best of you, honey, belongs to me Solavellan | One-Shot | Smut Rating: E | 3,759 words

Hunt well, he told her. And she has. She may as well wear their pelts like trophies across her shoulders.

They have lined up to dance with her, to offer her gifts, to make her promises - all of it hollow. They want her for the power and the pleasure she can bring them. They want the world to see her in their arms as they swirl her across the floor. They want to feel the press of her body against their chest and imagine an intimacy which is his alone to claim.

Solas gets jealous at Halamshiral and his pride nearly gets the better of him.

In and Out of Time Again Solavellan | Letters | Angst | Time Loops Rating: M | Complete | 14,499 words | 14 chapters

I tattooed everything you said to me on my still-beating heart and while that may sound like nothing more than hyperbole, I swear to you that if you clawed open my ribcage you would see the truth in the ink that spilled through your fingers.

A Solavellan take on “This Is How You Lose the Time War." Two unlikely correspondents reshape infinite versions of Thedas, each manipulating events of the world’s past to create the future their faction desires.

in the cracks of light / i dreamed of you Solavellan | One-Shot | Angst | Pre-Veilgaurd Rating: T | 2,731 words

He slips into a cafe to pass the time. It is an alluring place on the water where lilac lanterns spill light on lovers and assassins alike. In the distance, something bright catches his eye. Two felines, perched side by side on the base of a pillar that overlooks the canals. One of them is such a vivid white he swears it’s glowing in the afternoon sun.

By day, Solas investigates an irregularity in the Veil in the Streets of Coin and encounters a spirit cat. By night, Lavellan dreams of Treviso.

Ruins Solavellan | Time Travel Fix-It | Angst | Slow Burn Rating: M | WIP | 109,325 words | 19/? chapters

More than 20 years after the Exalted Council, Thedas is in ruins. Finally, a hardened and desperate Lavellan conjures a dangerous spell that has the power to stop the Dread Wolf once and for all. But when plans suddenly change, Lavellan and Solas find themselves transported back to when everything began - one year before Corypheus opens the breach - and given "one last chance" to set things right.

Miscellaneous Solavellan

Solavellan Prompts

Short one-shots collected from various prompts. Mostly set in Inquisition, one in Veilguard.

First/Second

Who fell first prompt. Four short scenes, two from Solas' POV and two from Lavellan's.

[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 1.02 The Insider

10 Years Ago

Falling in love with Paul was a slow process. After all, I had no idea I was anything but straight. But I definitely felt a pull towards him that I didn't quite understand.

At first, I thought it was jealousy–but as we got closer as friends and I started viewing him as a flawed human, I realized there was more than envy at play.

A big part of moving past my initial perception of Paul was getting to know his inner circle. I'd met Danica before, but I didn't get the full Danica Experience until I moved in with Paul. She was getting her Masters at Sequoia State and she was at the townhouse all the time. It seemed like she didn't have a life outside of Paul. 

She was over one day when she invited Paul to go out with her and their friends, whom I hadn't met yet. 

“I don't know,” Paul groaned. “Who's going to be there?”

“It’s just going to be me, Wesley and Nasir, and Deshawn…oh, and I guess he's bringing Other Paul, so we get to meet him.”

“Wait,” I interjected. “Other Paul? Who's that?”

“He's our friend Deshawn’s new boyfriend,” Danica explained. “We've been calling him Other Paul.”

“Just not in front of Deshawn,” Paul added.

“Hmm, okay,” I said.

“I don't know,” Paul sighed. “I guess I can go.” 

“Where are you going?” From the lack of enthusiasm Paul had, it sounded like they were going to get root canals. 

“Roy G. Biv's,” Danica answered.  

“Oh, my dad works there,” I told her. “He's actually Valerie Galloway.”

“Really? That's so cool!” Since my dad was on the show, people were always excited to find out about our relation.

“Yeah, it's been interesting. I help out at RGB's sometimes when things get busy.”

“Well, you should join us, then,” Danica offered. “It'll be nice having an insider with us.”

“C'mon, Danica,” Paul chided her. “John doesn't want to spend his Friday getting used for perks.”

“Oh, I don't mind.” Truth be told, it was kind of fun feeling special and getting free drinks for my friends.

“Well, if you're okay with it,” Paul replies hesitantly. 

So we all got ready to go out. In addition to giving my guests the VIP treatment, I was looking forward to meeting more of Paul’s friends–and seeing what the deal was with this Other Paul.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[nightmare-grass]

Odd Moon-related Connections in Genshin Lore

- Glaze Lillies and Nilotpala Lotuses only bloom at night

- Glaze Lillies may have been the favorite flower of Guizhong, who’s hair was grey/white and who’s outfit had stardust on it (she was the god of dust, so unless she was a god of stardust specifically that’s some odd things about her)

- Nilotpala Lotuses bloomed at the bleeding feet of the Goddess of Flowers after being cast out of Heaven in the wake of the Seelie disaster

- There is at least one account in Sumeru that claims Liloupar came to the people in a moonbeam. Quote: “Our prayers to the Goddess of Flowers have borne fruit. Her envoy came to us in a moonbeam, granting us life-saving medicine and clean water … …She called herself Liloupar, born of the lilies” and later in that same passage, Quote: “At moonrise, she warned us that the water from the canal may carry disease.” So many mentions of the moon in one text about Liloupar and her relation to the Goddess of Flowers.

- Seelies seem to have a moonlit sky with sparse clouds reflected in their bodies, the bright orb in their heads looks like a moon.

- Guizhong’s death produced a cloud of dust that blocks out the sky and creates a darkened area in Liyue.

- Istaroth was said to be responsible for the Sin Shades, who only show up in Evernight in the dark.

- Nahida has some moon connections in her titles, and she has white hair and pale skin, like Paimon, who has a starry pattern on her scarf like Guizhong had on her robes.

- The Goddess of Flowers built a city for her offspring, the Jinn, and she called it Ay-Khanoum, translated to English that’s the City of the Moon Maiden.

- You can link the mythologies of the Goddess of Flowers and King Deshret to King Solomon and Astarte, who was a version of Ishtar, who is the root for the name Istaroth

- The power of the Aranara is the power of dreams, they exist in the dreamscape. And with how much we use a harp to connect with Aranara, it’s just as likely that music is linked to dreams. And Venti, one of Istaroth’s thousand winds, is a bard who knows all songs past and future, and plays a harp.

- The moon sisters were named Aria, Sonnet, and Canon, literally musical terminology.

- There’s probably a connection between the three moon sisters and Teyvat’s concepts of Time, Memory, and Dreams

- One of Venti’s powers is that he can pull up memories from the far flung past

- The quest for Time and Wind has these sun dial looking things that are actually moon dials since the puzzle only activates at night

- Seelies make a jingling tune, Nahida makes a jingling tune, the Goddess of Flowers taught Rukkhadevata the “source song” which birthed the race of Aranara, and the Pari fought the abyss using the Great Songs of the Khavarena, which seem to summon pure elemental energy aligned with Dendro.

- One of the fairytales that was weirdly important to the Abyss Order before we learned that fairy tales could hold the truth about the past if it’s been rewritten/deleted in Irminsul was the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies. I’ve already noted a few pale characters with crowns or royal status but there was also a character called the Night Mother, who seemed to be the villain of the story. Another odd Night connection.

- Andersdotter wrote The Boar Princess, her signature rose design is on the cover. A rose is also on the cover of The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies, so could she have written that too? As a member of the Hexenzirkel, it’s pretty likely.

- The Seelies were said to be beautiful pale people, and Rukkhadevata is pale with white hair, as is Nahida. Another trait they share are elf ears. Klee is pale with fair hair, and she’s an elf; from what we know of Alice, her mom, she could look much the same. Although he’s old, Pulcinella of the Fatui Harbingers is also an elf with white hair and pale skin, fitting the description. Seelies are fairies, and elves in real world folklore are considered fae, so could the Seelies have given us the elf race in Genshin? Or the Moon Sisters, who presided over the Seelies? Elves seem to be as long lived as gods, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

- I think Aria, Sonnet, and Canon represented Memories, Time, and Dreams, symbolizing the past, present, and future respectively. I don’t know the order of the goddesses in their roles, but I do know they had a fight and two died, leaving only one, and wouldn’t it be something if that surviving moon goddess became Istaroth, the god of Time? Maybe even Irminsul came from the death of the moon goddess of Memory? I don’t know what could’ve happened to the goddess of Dreams, but maybe her death caused the constellations that are canonically made up of the crystalline fruits of Irminsul in the sky box of the Firmament.

(If I could post more than 10 pictures I would but you have the internet, you can look up photos of the stuff I’m talking about.)

[konniesreality]

Hi, okay, I just have to complain a bit. And if you have some tips to me, like for example “try doing this”, “or this”, or “take a break, you silly goose”; I am quite open to those.

Okay, I know for a fact that the void is real. I know that entering is easy, however.

I’m actually getting frustrated that it feels like I’m procrastinating like this. Like, I’m not really procrastinating, since I’m trying, but I could put in more work.

The dumb thing is that I have this feeling I can enter the void any minute now. I guess what’s stopping me is the feeling of not being confident in the sleep methods, because my ego can’t find it normal to command the subconscious to yeet me into this meditative state. Awake methods at night gives me super dry eyes- my tear canals just says “bye” and leaves. Hurts like a butt cheek on a stick, and it’s just overall an inconvenience to me.

I feel like a failure.

Oof, I’m sorry for venting to you about this. I just don’t really know what to do, and you’re my comfort blogger, so yk. Idk

It’s okay, and I’m glad you find me as your comfort blogger. The truth is, even if you deny it, you guys have over complicated this WAY to much. I understand there are certain things that are hard to believe, and I understand the procrastination thing. I want you to get off of tumblr and read this. Take the information and GO

1. Lay in a comfortable position.

2. Breathe in and fill your belly with air, then breathe out at your own pace, continue until there are no thoughts.

3. Affirm “I AM” do not condition this awareness just affirm I AM.

4. Then you’ll be in the Holy Nothing. It should take 10 minutes or less. Don’t focus on time, or symptoms.

5. Affirm and come back

See? It’s easy and simple. Just relaxing, so stop procrastinating, get your dream life honey I’m rooting for you 💗

You can get into the void with open eyes, put a sleeping mask over them (idk what you mean by dry eyes)

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Tidbit Tuesdays: And We're Back

*slides in with a coffee and sunglasses to hide the dark circles under my eyes*

It hasn't been two weeks since I posted, I don't know what you're talking about.

Anyway, an emergency root canal, a crown, and quite a lot of money later, I'm back on my LaDs grind. Truth be told on top of everything else, I'm going through writer's block, so WIPs is just about all I've got.

Can't commit to anything, like my teeth can't commit to my mouth.

If you've survived this rambling, bless. This week's WIPs are just a random assortment of things. And if you're new here, this is where I post things I'm proud of, just generally like, or am currently working on.

If you enjoy this (or just generally appreciate people) please leave a like or a reblog! It lets me know people like what I'm doing, and encourages me to keep writing!

---

Notes: first up is Zayne and Kiri, my MC. I recently finished catching up on the new (!!!) main storyline additions, so this is your spoiler warning before I continue.

I loved where the story went, and so decided to do a "what if" in which Kiri temporarily has her memory restructured by the Protofield and the Myst, dropped into a dreamscape that reflects Dreamwalker's world.

It's fun. It's SUPER fun. I should get back to it soon.

❄️❄️❄️

Kiri’s day ended like this:

Akso hospital had strict regimented shifts to combat the constant wave of abominations. At the end of hers, she got scanned, tested, and questioned before she was allowed to leave. A pair of military men in uniforms escorted her down out of the hospital campus, waiting with her until someone could come pick her up.

They never needed to wait long.

Zayne was almost always perfectly on time.

The black silhouette appeared silently through the thick mist, her escorts tensing before realizing who it was. She patted one on the shoulder, saying her goodbyes before stepping forward.

Her hand found Zayne's before she'd even said a word.

“How was work?” He murmured. In his other hand were groceries, the plastic sack sagging with the weight.

Kiri sighed, pulling her hair loose from its bun. “Long,” she replied. “Three more cases today. The ACU ward is overflowing already, and Chansia hospital can't take anymore. They're bursting at the seams.” She leaned into him, her pink scrubs brushing against the wool of his coat.

He frowned at her. “You took your jacket this morning. Where is it?”

“Hm?” Kiri blinked in surprise. “Oh. Someone needed it more than I did.” She smiled at his exasperated sigh, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on. I have you to keep me warm, don't I?”

Zayne shook his head, a slight smile forcing its way through his irritation. “Still. The nurse can't help people if she gets sick, can she? Your health has to come first.”

She hummed, neither agreeing nor denying it. He huffed in response. “Let's go home, my moon.”

Kiri had worked at Akso hospital as long as she could remember. She'd graduated top of her class, with perfect marks, and settled easily into her new life. Work in the Abominations Containment Unit was intense, and it seemed her coworkers were on a revolving door roster. Few people stayed as long as she did, with cases increasing every day.

It was at some point during that that she met Zayne.

A former patient of hers had cornered her in an alley, begging for help before turning into an awful, monstrous thing.

A sudden explosion of black ice had been her saving grace.

The man in black had vanished as quickly as he'd appeared, and, well…

As if following a thread of fate itself, she chased after him.

It was unconscionable for a nurse and someone like him to fall in together. Kiri was well aware she was breaking the code of ethics, not to mention the oaths she'd taken.

Yet here they were.

It felt like it had been forever since they'd gotten together.

It felt like it had been no time at all.

❄️❄️❄️

Notes: This one's been in the mental WIP for a while. I usually let ideas ferment in my head for a while before I bake them into fics, like a good sourdough.

This one focuses on Kit and Sylus, Kit being his second in command and NOT the MC. If you've been here a while, you know her. Anyway, I wanted to do a "what if Kit got hurt" thing, and as usual, they can't help bantering even when she's been stabbed. Go figure.

Fair warning, this one does feature some gruesome imagery. Not a lot though.

🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛

The remains of the building shuddered, dust and sheetrock crumbling down. Sylus ran his flashlight over the rubble, keeping an ear out for any voices.

“Keep a low profile,” he murmured to the twins. “It's not just Kit that might be down here.”

The twins nodded firmly.

The building was a winding, gray mess, shadowed corners scurrying away at each sweep of the flashlights. Every once in a while, they would have to make a wide berth around slowly seeping pools of red, checking the remains for identification.

So far, there were only strangers.

“Fan out,” Sylus murmured. “We'll get more coverage that way.”

The twins and the other men he brought along nodded, splitting up into groups of two. All of them had radios, but it was a shot in the dark whether they would keep working in the lingering metaflux.

It was eerily quiet down here.

The rubble blocked all outside noises, leaving nothing but the occasional whisper of dust or the clatter of stone.

At last, he came to a room that was nearly intact.

It appeared to be a lab, the viewing windows completely shattered. A single threadbare bulb struggled to stay lit, swinging to and fro as it flickered dangerously.

Sylus carefully stepped inside, his feet crunching softly on the broken glass.

A body lay inside, the head twisted unnaturally. A badge on the lab coat proclaimed this to be someone who worked in the building.

The position of their hand was odd, and he leaned closer to examine it. There were faint marks to indicate they'd tightly gripped something before they died.

A second later, his instincts screamed for him to move, and he rolled out of the way, just as someone dropped down from a ceiling panel.

He swiftly got to his feet, ducking left as a shot fired, cutting through his jacket. With a lunge forward, he slammed his hand down, disarming his opponent.

A blade kissed his throat from their other hand, and he looked down into the cold, wild eyes of Kit.

“It's me, sweetie,” he said breathlessly.

Kit blinked. Her hair was messy and dusty, falling out of its usual braid. She held herself strangely, almost curling forward as she gripped the blade.

“Prove it,” she snapped.

Red mist yanked the blade from her grasp, pulling her into his arms. Sylus let just enough power through to make his eye glow without invading her thoughts. “How's that?”

She hissed in pain, grabbing his jacket to steady herself. “That works,” she grit out. “Someone had a doppelganger evol here. They looked like Evan, our diagnostics head.”

Sylus swore, thinking of the nervous man he'd spoken to before. “He might have made it out. I just spoke to Evan before we entered. Are you alright?”

Kit shook her head. “Took a piece of rebar to the side. I didn't have the luxury of keeping it stuck in there, there were people trying to kill me. How did you of all people not notice Evan?”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Occasionally things do escape me, kitten. It's harder to tell when the man in question is always sweating like he's in a sauna.” He glanced at her sidelong. “Speaking of, you bring up a good point. What's to say you aren't a doppelganger? A good one, but one nonetheless.”

She reared back, offended. “Excuse you! Are you implying my fighting is on the level of any average person?”

Sylus smirked. “Your ability with firearms does leave something to be desired.”

“You motherfu- eep!” Kit squeaked as Sylus picked her up, his arm settling neatly under her bottom. She clung to his shoulders as a scarlet flush swept across her skin.

He chuckled. “There's that beautiful full-body blush. No imposter after all.”

“If I survive this,” Kit snapped, “I'm going to do my best to choke you out.”

“I look forward to it.” He stepped out of the room, grabbing his radio. “Twins, can you read me?”

The radio crackled for a moment before a reply came through. “Loud and clear, boss. Has mama bird been located?”

“I take it back,” Kit muttered. “I'm killing them first, and then you.”

Sylus smiled at that. “Mama bird is with me, yes,” he replied, his eyes crinkling at the murderous glare she shot his direction. “We're exiting the building now. Withdraw and rendezvous at South Tower.”

🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Note: Ahahaha. Our last one is Omegaverse. That's flustering and fun. This one's less suggestive, mostly due to the fact that I was jotting down headcanons for Omegaverse AU and it turned into mini fics. So this one is Zayne and Kiri.

❄️❄️❄️

For some reason, the universe decides to bless Kiri with the worst possible heat to go along with her myriad of health problems.

In the week leading up to it, she feels exhausted and sick, throwing up food easily and sleeping poorly.

Previous doctors have told her that it's because she has an extremely high hormone production rate, and it means she's extra fertile.

That she should be grateful.

She had to hold herself back from strangling them.

It also means she can't take suppressants.

Zayne, at least, is sympathetic. Even long before they begin a relationship, he reaches out through his connections to find her hormone specialists, people who can help her manage her symptoms.

And after they start dating, well.

He spoils her rotten.

Zayne can only really take the week of her heat off, with how vital he is to operations in Akso Hospital. However, the clean house, fresh linens, and hot food he gets for her goes a long way towards helping.

She always tries to protest his help after his shift is over, stating that he already works enough.

He just does it anyway. All her plushies get scented, her favorite pastries are bought, and her extra expensive jar of tea is left out by a new mug on the kitchen island.

She could just cry from how sweet he is.

When her heat strikes, it's similar.

Kiri becomes very particular about her nest, only choosing the most recent articles of clothing he's worn. She gets exhausted very quickly, and Zayne purchases scent blocking candles to light throughout the entire apartment.

(He's seriously considering how much it would be to get a house outside of the city. If he catches another Alpha lingering at his doorstep or below his balcony window, he's going to break his doctor's oaths on purpose)

❄️❄️❄️

Thanks for reading, and have a good Tuesday!

[tommyboweinabowtie]

About Spencer's One Ball

okay first of all disclaimer: I know that for some people this post will seem too much and I'm aware, but to be clear, all I used was what Spencer talked about publicly in videos, mostly in the 2 truths 1 lie with Tommy, everything else is Medicine and Science and statistics. I did not have access to anything else like medical records or anything related.

Also important here: I am a certified doctor, I know I just be silly online but I studied medicine and I happen to be in pediatrics, one of the few specialties that would deal with said diagnosis, so since the first time I saw that video it got me wondering exactly what kind of "condition" it would be, I was curious, so I decided to research. And bring my research findings here.

Keep in mind english is not my first language, but I tried to be clear and simple.

"Having only one ball" medical term would be "monorchism", or "monorchidism". That means only one testicle in the scrotum. (Trivia no one asked for: everything related to testicles has "orchid" in its name, the plant is also called that because it has a scrotum-looking thing in its roots). Having only one ball later in life usually means surgery or injury, but as he said, not the case.

In the video he says he was born with only one testicle. So he didn't say he had any testis removed, or that it was somewhere else, just that he only had one. Okay keep that in mind. Let's understand first how normally a testicle develops. A healthy embrio is sexually indifferent at first, the Y chromosome has a gene that makes it develop testicles instead of ovaries. That happens inside the abdomen, below the kidneys, and when the testis cells are developed, they produce an hormone that will supress other "female" anatomy. This hormone is also responsible for the descend of the testis into the scrotum. This descend happens after the seventh month of gestation. So until then the testicles are inside the abdomen. About 3% of XY term babies are born without 1 or 2 testicles in their scrotum. That's calles cryptorchidism ("hidden testicle"). It is more common in premature babies and babies with conditions such as down syndrome. More than half is unilateral. So when a baby is born doctors examine it and see if the testicles are inside their ballsack, if not, usually (80%) within the first year it has a "delayed" descent. If it is not in the scrotum, maybe the doctor sees it somewhere else, close, right above it. Little image to show where it can be found:

So directly from the simplified words from wikipedia: A testis absent from the normal scrotal position may be:

Anywhere along the "path of descent" from high in the posterior abdomen to the inguinal ring

In the inguinal canal

Ectopic, having "wandered" from the path of descent, usually outside the inguinal canal and sometimes even under the skin of the thigh, the perineum, the opposite scrotum, or the femoral canal

Undeveloped (hypoplastic) or severely abnormal (dysgenetic)

Missing (also see anorchia).

So if we can't find the testicle in the first few months, we usually ask for an ultrasound, to see if it is inside the abdomen and to search if there's any intersex characteristics, or other conditions, associated. If it is found, usually there's a surgery, either to place the testicle where it is supposed to be, or to remove it. Why not just leave it inside, or forget about it? Well, undescended testicles have a higher chance of testicular cancer. So it either has to be in the scrotum to keep it in check with self-exam and ultrasounds, or completely removed.

Spencer never mentioned a surgery, and they talked about surgeries and procedures in that episode. He'd probably have talked about it. So I don't think he had ectopic or undescended testicle.

The abnormal testicle also rules out because he would have said it was deformed or something. Not that he was born without it.

So that leaves us with anorchia. Or in his case, monorchia. (He has one normal right testicle there, the left one is missing.)

If you look for this terms you will find mostly genetical disorders, or like intersex individuals with other health issues associated. I don't think that's his case.

So what I think it is, is a condition called "Vanishing testes syndrome" or "testicular regression syndrome". It results in anorchia or monorchia. It is kinda rare, less that 5% of those with cryptorchidism. To make it simple, the embrio develops the testicle, but something happend with it along the way before the baby is born, like a torsion, or ischemia, and it "dies" or stops developing, leading to a baby without the testicle. It is more common to happen to the left testicle. The individuals usually delevop a completelly tyical male phenotype, as seems to be Spencer's case as well. (Unless the regression is bilateral and happens too early in the pregnancy, leading to lack of testosterone, but thats less usual). Some doctors and scientists recommend a surgical approach to remove the small scar tissue and remnants (0-16% of studied cases have like a tiny amount of live testicular cells in the scar tissue wherever the testicle died) to avoid potential testicular cancer as well, but it was never documented, so it is not needed, it depends on the attending doctor.

Also some patients may want to have a prosthesis implanted, for cosmetic purposes, but also not needed.

Let's just trust that Spencer was cared for by good doctors that did whatever testing it was needed and got to the most likely diagnosis.

So that was my wild research You can officially read the paper about this condition here: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC3459158/

I have more commentary about smosh health conditions and stuff, this one just was more in my field and also spiked my curiosity, i just needed to. But like about Tommy CPR thing, Shayne drowning, probably more stuff i can't remember now. Let me know if any of you would like to see more lol.

[sabrondabrainrot]

Sun is technically the first animatronic most of the family have met. (Watch as I give shoddy examples and argue my way into convincing you to see only my truth.)

Old Moon first met Sun in the daycare mirror. (also the reverse for Sun) Sun, quite literally, is the first person Moon meets. It makes sense why they're so important to each other. It's sad it was with the circumstances they had.

Lunar when he first came to as a new AI, he met Sun (I think Lunar did meet Eclipse in the mind scape first?) while in control of Moon's body for the first time. Sun has quoted Lunar's first words on multiple occasions. It's actually a running gag to everyone's confusion but the audience's. Tickle cuttlefish 27, I'm gonna kiss your dad. Baby's first words. (I think I might have remembered the quote wrong)

Eclipse as we know used Sun's eyes to see so he like Old Moon met him by looking at an old worn mirror. I actually am not sure if I would argue Sun was the first being he met but Eclipse did gain sentience in his mind. He talks about how he knows Sun in and out so idk Imma argue Eclipse saw Sun's inner thoughts for the first time. (Eclipse did him so dirty)

For Solar, I'm theorizing when he comes back Sun might be the one to pick him up? (Eclipse did say he thinks Solar would like to probably be greeted by a friendly face) so high brain theory moment but when Solar gets his dimension signature changed to the main dimension I think Solar will most likely meet Sun first?

Bloodmoon's intro is pretty confusing but after meeting Eclipse for the first time he did go on a murder spree and then evacuate himself out Sun's body (so wouldn't he have seen him? Doing leaps of logic) Like...Sun's his first introduction into the world. (It's SO SAD I think the kids at the daycare dying from Sun's hands is the SADDEST THING EVER, Bloodmoon did everyone so dirty.)

Earth found Sun first too. She met him when he was at his lowest in a literal crater caused by himself (Eclipse did trick him but that crater is so badass). He was having the biggest breakdown of his life and Earth just approached him so calmly and held him. I adore their first ever meeting to BITS. It's such a defining moment in the show for me. New Moon, when Old Moon resent the first person to meet New Moon was Sun. Hee Hee. Sun having another emotional breakdown as he meets a baby AI in his brother's shell. It's not even the first time that's happened to Sun but man. New Moon was so giddy poor thing (praying for Nexus) he was so hyped they were brothers man.

Was Frank's first meeting with Sun too? It's pretty interesting to think of.

Rambles about Dazzle how she watched Sun from the start teehee I love that she watched him so much she could perfectly clean to the point no one noticed her. Dazzle supremacy.

Also Jack didn't start showing sentience until he basically almost accidentally killed Sun's cats. He went out of his way to appease those cats and called them his masters and brought them treats. I think that was his first earliest acts of sentience and even that had something to do with Sun.

If I missed anything please let me know (I crave the Sun content)

anyways this is just the crazy rambles of a Sun simp. I bet this has been said before but I just wanted to ramble cause Sun is my bookie. Can't stop rambling about my blorbo. He's special to me~

👉👈

Also got my root canal today it was traumatic and horrible but went well. I wanted a hug after and didn't get it but at least my mom took me to the fabric store. I was very brave today. (also been literally typing this spiel since this morning)

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Daughter of the Rain and Snow

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who put her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @ethereal-maia @cartoon-clifford @origami-butterfly @lady-a-stuff

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's death, gore (including burning bodies), descriptions of dead bodies, blood, ptsd references/responses, loss of a parent, implied abuse, and sorry I don't know how to word this but if you don't like/are specifically squeamish about eyes there is a reference in the gore that is specific to eyes so I thought it might be worth mentioning.

Chapter 21 - Maya

Maya was twelve when she first discovered she was Grisha. Little things started… happening. Things she didn’t mean. Or at least, they started happening much more frequently than usual. It wasn’t until then that Stephen Olsen had taken his daughter by the hand, and told her the truth.

Maya hadn’t cried, when she learned her mother had been Grisha. Had been killed for it. She didn’t know how to mourn a woman she’d never met. But she cried when she learnt that they had burned her.

“You told me she was with Djel,” she’d said, “That she died in childbirth and you buried her, to take root,”

Her father had looked down.

“Because I cannot think of the alternative,”

“Is that what will happen to me?”

He had wrapped his arms around her.

“Never,” he’d whispered, “I would fight a thousand armies before they reached you, little wolf,”

Her father hadn’t known that she was Grisha, he told her, or he would have got her out sooner. It didn’t occur to Maya, at 12 and in what was soon to become a perpetual state of fright and shock, to ask why her mother hadn’t been able to get out. To ask the entire circumstances of her loss. The next thing she knew they were making plans. They moved to Ketterdam, and the world ended before her eyes. 

That fucking ledger had set the wreckage on fire.

Maya tried to imagine the feeling of her father’s arms around her shoulders. She was his little wolf, and Djel had given her a gift to make him proud. But it was an untouchable memory, sinking beneath the waves just out of reach, tangled and bleeding and mixed up with the messy scrawl that set the last thing she clung to ablaze. 

Maya had left Inej telling herself that the ledger was a lie, but if that was true then why was she still thinking about it? Like the words were scarring her. Like they were smoke and she was choking on them.

The world was buzzing from a great distance. 

Maya didn’t know what she was doing.

She could feel the shadows of Aimee and Kiada’s hands throbbing across her own. It wasn’t quite pain, but it was excruciating. She heard everything muffled through a barrier of rushing blood, her head spinning and her stomach threatening to empty its contents into the canal. Real pain split her shoulder, pain worth feeling, piercing through the din of everything else. The kind of pain that meant you were alive. Her vision blurred, just for a moment.

Maya was realising what she’d done.

Kiada was on her knees, holding herself up with shaking arms. She looked at Maya like a rabbit staring down the barrel of a gun. There was a graze on her cheek. Maya felt herself choke, stumbling backwards and shaking her head.

“I don’t-”

The girls looked at her in silence.

Djel, what had she done? She was meant to protect them. She was meant to be brave for them. She wanted to be brave for them. 

“No, I didn’t - I -”

She stumbled a little as she stepped backwards, and she saw Aimee inch towards her before freezing in place. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words scratching her throat, “Oh, Djel, Kiada I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

She couldn’t breathe.

“I…” 

She was choking on the smoke. She was burning.

What had she done?

“Maya?” said Aimee, looking between her and Kiada

Maya realised dimly that Aimee didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know if she was safe to help Kiada.

Maya had done that too.

She’d made her afraid.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry,”

Aimee helped Kiada to her feet.

“Do you want to go?” she asked, staring at them, “You can. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t - I’m so sorry,”

“We need help, Maya,” said Aimee, moments before Maya thought the silence would become too much, “We have to go back. She said if you went back she’d help you,”

She shook her head.

“I can’t,”

“Inej did nothing to you,”

Maya’s shoulder screamed its disagreement, but she knew that wasn’t what Aimee meant. Still, she didn’t know that she believed it. If she was supposed to believe that her father had… no. One page of a gambling parlour record wasn’t going to cut it. She needed proof. There had to be someone she could make pay. She needed it, before it ate her alive.

And even if Kaz Brekker wasn’t to blame for this sickness inside Maya, his death would pay for Celina’s. Wonderful, wonderful Celina, dreaming of going home. Dreaming of the ice and the semla from the bakeries and her mother doing her hair for a village dance. Maya had seen the Reaper’s Barge only a few times; even from the shore the flames were high and bright enough to be visible. She imagined Celina, 6 slashes on her throat, a tulip on her cheek, lying at a broken angle with pale, twisted limbs tangled amongst a thousand others. She imagined the flames swallowing her, her glassy eyes still staring to the very last moment. Still full of their fear. Their guilt. Their blame. What happened to eyes, when they burned? Maya didn’t know. In her head they remained the longest, watching everything else burn away, and then they melted. Slow and grotesque.

She hoped that was what would happen to Yennefer. Maybe it already had. Maya thought of Yen's blood on her hands, congealing slowly beneath her fingernails. She'd wanted to be sickened by it, but she hadn't. She'd felt empowered - she'd felt high. She wanted to feel like that again.

Yen was to blame for Celina's death, and she'd got what she deserved. But Kaz Brekker was responsible for it as well. He would pay the price.

Kiada stood in dazed silence, half leaning on tiny little Aimee for support. 

“You shouldn’t trust her,” she told them, “She lied to us,”

Aimee’s little face was hard. Her arm hooked around Kiada’s waist to hold her up, and she reached to brush gravel off the graze blooming on the older girl's cheek. Even looking at it happen, Maya felt tension in her back and rushing all the way down her spine. She squared her shoulders. Holding Aimee through the makeshift blanket had been her limit - and she hadn’t managed that for long. The girl lifted her chin, a kind of shadow in her eyes that should not have belonged to a child so young. 

“She didn’t hurt us,”

That was all Aimee said before she turned away.

[taraljc]

The thing that pisses me off about people opposing universal basic income is that late stage capitalism and Western civilisation require that people uphold the lie that people deserve the circumstances they are born into--whether that is poverty or generational wealth.

It's impossible for so many to confront the reality that the wealth that allows generations of people to live in comfort and ease was bought at the cost of taking comfort and ease from other people.

That the richest nations on earth subscribe to the idea that there is such a concept as the 'deserving poor'. That poverty is a moral judgment and not the most telling symptom of a sick and decaying society.

Every single time I've tried to talk about how awesome it would be to have $2,000 a month to cover all of my bills so that I can pour all of my energy into actually living my life instead of scrambling to come up with $2,000 each month to pay all of my bills, I hit the brick wall of 'no-one deserves to get something for nothing. everyone should have to work hard for what they get'. from people who are perfectly comfortable with the idea of the 1% getting everything for nothing and not having to work at all for what they get.

In America especially it's like we left a constitutional monarchy for a reason. We rejected the divine right of kings for a reason. We came to another country to have the freedoms to practice our own religion without persecution or genocide. and then we turned around and oppressed the fuck out of everybody else the exact same way we had been oppressed, and the idea that our way was smoothed by the colour of our skin or the Anglo-Saxoness of our names or the acceptance that comes with evangelical Christianity's us-vs-them mentality offends us so deeply that it is rejected out of hand over and over again.

Because it's impossible to recognise the universal unavoidable truth that people do not deserve the circumstances they were born into. There is no moral judgment from God that says anyone deserves to be rich or poor.

However the basic tenants of almost all religions do teach that it is the moral obligation of those with more to give to and protect and raise up those who have less. To literally share the wealth, look after not just our neighbours, but strangers and foreigners and even the people who do not share any of our ideals--and provide shelter, food, and clothing for those in desperate need.

And you have all of these supposed Christians ignoring everything they loudly and frequently profess to believe in, while constantly trying to shove everybody who doesn't meet their arbitrary criteria out of the lifeboats to drown.

And it all comes down to this idea that people are worthy or unworthy not based on their actions or inactions, but simply by existing.

That is so fucked up. How is it the 21st century and we are still acting like bronze age barbarians, raiding our neighbours' villages, raping and killing, trafficking in slave labour, and burning their libraries and places of worship to the ground?

It is all such fucking bullshit.

These thoughts brought to you by the facts that I need a root canal and a crown that cost $2,000 I don't have. I need to bring in at least $2,000 a month to keep the lights on. I need $6,000 to drop out of the sky to wipe out credit card debt. I need to never leave my home state for extended periods of time because I can't get the medications that help me manage my physical and mental health because my Medicaid coverage is limited to the state of Illinois.

[reachartwork]

Chum 112: Homecoming

"Is it done?" I ask, my voice low as we make our way through the throng of bodies towards the punch bowl. "Did the post go up?"

Jordan's grin sharpens, their eyes glinting in the strobing lights. "Oh yeah. It's up. The server logged thirty comments in the first seventeen minutes. By the time anyone thinks to look our way, we'll be old news."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. We did it. The truth is out there, and there's no taking it back now.

Of course, that's when Mike fucking Giannopoulos comes bounding up to us, his tux straining around his football player bulk. "Yo, Westwood!" he crows, slapping Jordan on the back hard enough to make them stumble. "Looking sharp, dude! Didn't think you had it in you!" Then he turns to me, smiling. "What's up, Sam!"

I smile back thinly, trying not to grimace as the scent of his body spray clogs my nostrils. "Hey Mike," I say with about as much enthusiasm as if I was saying, "Hey, root canal".

He doesn't seem to notice, already turning back to Jordan to yammer on about some boring football bullshit - football bullshit that I'm sure Jordan couldn't care less about. I tune him out, my eyes scanning the room. The chaperones are all clustered by the doors, their heads bent together as they mutter into their walkie-talkies. Every entrance and exit is manned by at least two security guards, big beefy dudes who look like they bench press Chevy Tahoes in their spare time.

[moviesludge]

its 7:00 am and i woke up to ur posts. Fuck that dentist

I hope I didn't put anybody out too much. Sometimes I forget how sparingly I post gore and stuff and I'm sure people follow me not even knowing that the stuff might show up sometimes. I guess I feel like it helps diminish the intense reality of it if I post a bunch of exaggerated stuff about it.

I don't have any hostility toward the dentist. The only gif caption that's kind of true of my feelings about my experience with my dentist is the one on the Terminator-esque robot from WAX MASK that says "this is how I'll look if my dentist has anything to do with it" because with all the work I need, sometimes it feels like they just want to pluck out all my teeth and put in dental implants. But the truth is that I've been a heavy soda drinker my whole life, and there was a fairly long period when I NEVER brushed my teeth. And then I finally got in the habit, but even then I wasn't going to regular dental visits, because my parents used to take care of it when I was little, and once I was off their insurance and working, I just didn't understand the importance of getting regular cleanings. If you're not having pain, it's easy to just ignore it and go about your life. And who really wants to go to the dentist?? So once I finally went in a few years ago, my teeth were pretty wrecked. But a lot of the damage has since been mitigated and thankfully, my insurance is covering everything they have planned so far. I remember hearing someone ask what are the chances your teeth will rot without dentist's cleanings, and the answer was 100%, no matter how diligent you are.

As for the dentist himself, I'm kind of on the fence about what to do. I'm pretty convinced that he's good at his job. I had a lot of work done by him in the fairly recent past (4 root canal/post/crowns) and it all went down very smoothly and as routinely as it seems possible, and it has all held up. I've asked a lot of questions and he's really patient and seems forthright about everything. Other than scheduling my initial appointment, the dental office has done everything I've asked of them. They emailed my xrays, made sure I had plenty of meds, and put the temp filling in that I asked for even though they didn't think it was going to hold (it didn't, but if they hadn't put it in, I probably would have been in pain for longer).

But just on the off chance that this is the type of place that finds/creates problems so they can make more money, I did look into what other dentists are available on my insurance, and the results weren't very heartening. There was one option that looked better than the others. Regardless of what happens during my next couple of visits to the current dentist, I can take my xrays and get a second opinion and explain the course of action that my current dentist took and see what they say. But also, I feel like the fact that they sent me the xrays at all sort of tells the story.

[thatdodoanonx]

Hey dodo, I hope you're doing better now. I really wish i could help you out in some way or another and that you get help financially so you can leave to find a safer place to live. I'm really happy we met and whenever we interacted it always brought me such joy, and i just want happiness for you too. Nobody deserves being treated in such ways, i hope you're safe ❤️

Hey, man. Glad to see you again. I really missed you and I'm happy I left some good impression. Sorry I wasn't able to answer sooner , I was busy the last few weeks, so I'll use this opportunity to update y'all.

First thing I find I did have a bank account with money my dad left for me and my siblings (each one of us have their separate account) and since I'm legally adult I was able to open it and pay both of my college Depts and my siblings' too, I'll receive my credit card in a week or soon. there's a small amount of money left but I don't care, this the only form of freedom I was able to receive and my mom can not do anything about. It's nice

Second and speaking of colleges both of my brothers left for their (both of them out of the town). It's both scary and good at the same time. One thing I won't have them hanging around my head and reporting every move I do to mom but at the same time I miss them y'know? That means it would be me and her. Alone. With no one around. But on the good side I return from my college pretty late so we don't talk much.

I unfortunately started to fall back into some bad habits, you see food has been my source of comfort since I was in high school that why I used to be fat back then and my mom made it her mission to remind me. I catch myself eating unhealthy food and that came consequences. So I have both Calcium and vitamin D deficiency and alot of my teeth got damaged because of it, yesterday was my 4th visit to the dentist this week. I rescheduled another visit after my mid term exams.

Lastly things between me and mom are calm for now mostly because I come from my college pretty late. We only had 2 fights now and you guessed it both them after my visits to the doctor. First one because I wasn't in the mood to talk to her (idk about you but getting 2 shots of Anesthesia and whole ass Root canal treatment makes you a little angsty y'know?) So ofc she took an offence to it and started yelling me at am and call disrespectful and stuff. The second time I told her at this rate I'm not having kids but my body won't be to handle it as a joke (while there's some truth to it) , again she got mad for no reason and started yelling at me and said something along the line of "everytime we fix you you have to go back to this (f-slur) shit??", I didn't have the energy to tell her she's the reason I'm not having kids.

That's all my the major stuff that happened, currently studying for midterm so I won't be able to available soon. Thanks to anyone who took time time to check on me. I'm forever grateful to you. Until next time 💖

-🦤

[balshumetsbaragouin]

Bittersweet Future: Chapter Fifteen

Summary:

Jack faces a reckoning at the White House, and we get a closer look at the Amity Park GSU HQ as two ghosts try to escape.

If You're Hoping For A Break...

He watched impassively as the last of the tanks disembarked from the Air Platforms. It had taken an hour after landing to get the final equipment and personnel out of the floating war centers, but finally he had no more excuses to put off meeting the F.B. He had been summoned before the President himself in an emergency meeting. He was looking forward to it as much as a root canal.

The determination and fire he’d been feeling as the sun set had solidified into a core of steel around his spine. This would be the battle of his career. “I can hear you cursing them out in your mind from over here Fenton.” Lt. Castle leaned in to whisper next to him.

“In every language I know, even that infernal Spectral bullshit.” Jack groused back. He suppressed a wince when leaning back to parade rest earned him a burst of protesting pain all through his ribs. He really should not have used that grenade, the fuck had he been thinking? “It’s not like I can hide in here forever; I’m sure they’ll bring a military escort to the facility if I take much longer.”

“Oh they wouldn’t dare. A bunch of jeeps with fatigued soldiers driving through the middle of D.C.? The last thing the President wants is to make things look more dire. D.C. loves to pretend it’s untouchable by war or danger, they wouldn’t give up the illusion just to drag you out of your kingdom.” Jill frowned. She sighed then and started to move away from the observation deck. “Come on Head Commander, we should go over some last details before we head to the White House.” She paused by the door when she noticed Jack still lingering.

“You’re not coming with me Jill.” He nearly whispered it, having just come to the conclusion firmly enough to say it out loud at all.

“Excuse me? In what universe would I let you face those vultures alone?”

“In the universe where I need you to be out of sight to avoid taking the blame.” He saw her beginning to work herself up for an argument, and cut her off at the pass, “Jillian, there’s a good chance they’re going to try and dismantle the agency.”

“Which is why I should be there! You know we’re unstoppable together.”

“I know we feel unstoppable together, that’s not the same thing as actually being invincible.” He groaned as his stiff protesting spine popped when he moved away from the observation window. “The President didn’t change the meeting with the Joint Chiefs to tonight because he wants a nice chat, or even a normal dressing down. If they only have one person in front of them to blame, then they’ll be happy to focus on them.”

“Jac—”

“The last time a mission went this badly on America soil, the President torpedo’d his career to protect mine. There needs to be a fall guy for this mess Lt. Castle, and they’re pissed enough to be glad to have two instead. I need you untouched after this bomb goes off. Someone I trust has to run this organization after I’m gone. I’m not convinced I can save my own career, but I will save the GSU.” He watched as she crossed her arms, still determined to argue this out with him.

“If we handle this meeting properly, no one’s career is going have to go up in smoke. Muller himself already said not a single person could have handled this operation better than us.”

“He thinks that at least…” He mumbled.

“It’s not just his opinion, any reasonable assessment of the situation will say the same. There’s no one else qualified to run this operation, and even if they want to cry about it, it’s not like they could do any better. Our job is to drive home into their useless skulls that truth.”

“Be that as it may, we both know politics isn’t about logic, it’s about feelings. They feel like someone has to be to blame for this clusterfuck, so they’ll string someone up regardless if it couldn’t have gone better. I need there to be fewer targets for their rage. Further,” he continued, barreling over her as soon as she opened her mouth, “there’s still all the post-battle data to go through, the forms to be signed to release bodies to families and inform them of the deaths, and I think you promised that pilot a proper chewing out earlier today.” His tone was lighter here, but he was no less firm. She wasn’t coming with him this time. He felt his shoulders tighten at the expression on her face. She still wanted to argue and he didn’t have the time for it. “Don’t make this an order Jill, please…”

The sigh she let out was resigned then, finally, “alright Fenton. But if I hear from some of those White House aides, that you just rolled over and made a fool of yourself in there, your career will be the least of your worries.” She half-limped over then to punch him on the arm. “Go get ‘em soldier.” With that, she walked out of the observation room, her uneven footfalls growing ever softer in the growing gloomy misery left with her retreat.

One fight down, the main event to go...He thought. He pulled up the last of the forms needing his signature on the digital screen before him, trying not to think of them as the last acts he’d have as the Head Commander of the GSU. A few minutes later, he was dressed in civvies, his comfortable ecto-suit traded for the much more mundane kind. He didn’t have time to do much more than wipe the worse of the grime off his face and hands. He still smelled of spent munitions’ smoke and the sharp ozone of anti-ectoplasm fire when he slid into the chauffeured car headed towards the heart of D.C. He hoped rolling down the window on the way to the meeting would blow off the worst of the stench. He might think of the smell as the glorious remnants of battle, but to the pencil pushing bureaucrats that ran the F.B, it was the smell of failure.

The car ride went by fast. He’d spent it with his head down reviewing the printouts of the battle’s summaries and the hastily cobbled together analysis of the worn-thin remaining officers. Several of them were completely useless, written by drained human beings who’d never had to write up a field report before, the consequences of all the field promotions. Luckily, several of his oldest officers had survived the battle, and given proper assessments...those weren’t any better than the inexperienced cruft he’d sifted through. They were more competently written, but all the competence in the world didn’t turn a disaster into a resounding victory. Still, their information was invaluable. General Birch especially liked to get into the nitty-gritty of individual team tactics and weapon’s usage.

He was a personnel person at heart, much like Jack Fenton himself, and so zeroed in on proper training and group tactics before technology or even larger command tactics. He thought if they’d met under different circumstances, they could’ve been proper colleagues, friends perhaps. But tonight, he was the enemy. The thought was grim and sour in his mind as he car pulled to a stop outside of the White House.

The omnipresent security around the President’s residence waved his car through, directing him around the back. At this time of night, the lights illuminating the front-facing façade of the building was more ominous than impressive, making hollowed out skulls of the faces of the men guarding the place. The stone faced watchers observing my solemn walk to the gallows. There were more Secret Service standing around than usual, the President likely aware of the way the light threw their faces into unforgiving relief. Now, he was amused; they were trying to intimidate him.

They still felt he had the upper hand on some level. Why else go through all the trouble to try and dampen his spirits? When he slid back out of the car and started up the walk to the back of the White House in the sticky warm D.C. summer air, his confidence only grew with every mean-mugging Secret Service agent milling around to greet him. He kept it in check, trying to conquer the feeling of misplaced confidence. They’d likely also reckoned Lt. Castle would be here. He reasoned. His assumption was rewarded when the aide standing at the door did a double take when only he appeared to be guided inside.

“Is the Deputy Commander not here? I didn’t think her injuries were so serious…” the aide trailed off, trying to further poison the well against the agency.

“Not at all, she’s in no danger health wise. But, someone must remain at HQ to continue the rest of the post-battle operations. There are officers to interview, masses of data to review, and since this meeting was called as an emergency, there hasn’t been time for any of the necessary procedures to be done between Colorado and D.C. She asks the President’s forgiveness for being unable to attend, but the wheels of military stops for no one.” He stepped inside to join the aide by their shoulder, neatly ignoring the lack of invitation. They’d already called him to this charnel house, he didn’t need to be invited directly.

“Er, yes—I mean of course we understood that before we called the meeting, but that is—that’s why the meeting was set for an hour after—”

“Yes?” Commander Fenton said cutting off the flustered aide, “and you all believe only an hour is needed to secure and disembark a thousand soldiers, and hundreds of individual pieces of highly sensitive equipment?” He clicked his tongue then and started walking down the hallway, deeper into the metaphorical lion’s den. “Perhaps that is one of the misconceptions I can clear up for the administration tonight.”

The aide didn’t respond again, trying to hide the tinge of pink coming to their cheeks by taking the lead in guiding the commander deeper into the building. For all its size, the White House was still intended to be a Residence on some level. This meant much of its interior was taken up with kitchens and bedrooms and ordinary sitting rooms. There were a few places suitable for large meetings though, and that’s where he was being led. He’d been through these halls several times.

The newest administration had...tacky tastes if he thought about it. It’s not like his spartanly decorated D.C. apartment had a lot going for it, but at least it didn’t come off both pretentious and kitschy at the same time. The President’s poor taste in all things trickled down into his politics in Jack’s opinion. He disliked the GSU, despite the huge scientific, military, political, and financial benefits it gave to the United States. Instead, he favored ostentatious displays like driving tanks down the street in military parades as shows of power and stability. That was what had gotten them on the President’s bad side originally. Secretary Birch had caved and given into the President’s childish desires for might displays, and he had told the man where to shove it...politely! Some grunt working as his secretary had worded the refusal, it had even been looked over by the Deputy Commander.

Unfortunately, refusing to use the country’s best military hardware for dick swinging displays of power to other nations had earned him the President’s ire. And with the easily led man possessing a cabinet full of more forceful personalities and sharper minds, the members of Capital Hill that always had it out for him happily used the President as a means to forward their agendas. He frowned then, thinking of General Welsh, and his petty dislike of the GSU based on it taking the best pilots. If the leader of the Air Force wanted better recruits, all he had to do was offer better benefits and prestige than the GSU. It’s not his fault flying in Earth’s atmosphere was less appealing than the cutting edge technology that allowed them to fly through the Zone.

Outside of Welsh and Birch, even the Secretary of State had it out for them, though his disagreements were more principled. The GSU had all the power of a branch of the military without being one. That sort of power without any real oversight or mandate by Congress spelled the potential for disaster. The agency had the most advanced technology in the country, and even he could admit his members were more akin to fanatic adherents than soldiers on some level.

Wanting to bring the GSU under closer control of an authorized branch of the military was completely understandable, if utterly ridiculous. There was already legislation going through both houses of Congress to officially establish the GSU as a separate branch of the military. Though it had stalled out recently as the aftermath of Austin loomed large in the public consciousness. Another reason Colorado needed to succeed, they needed more public goodwill, the passion of declaring the end to the War beginning to cool.

Jack smoothed out his face as a frown threatened to inch its way across it. Now was not the time to look unsure or weak. The aide stopped just outside of the door, waiting to be allowed to enter by the underpaid goons in suits the President employed instead of proper security. He’d decided to chose his own security, contravening tradition entirely, and the men—and they were all men— he picked were hulking mountains of flesh. They looked more like wrestler or body building champions than inconspicuous security, but such was the whims of the empty headed populist the country had elected. Besides, the President had told him, their guns were the real stopping power. It’s best they look intimidating instead of invisible. They left them hovering outside the door for some minutes. Before long, he realized it wasn’t a legitimate delay, but another attempt to demoralize him, make him feel trivial. Pathetic.

One of them spoke into a wrist communicator for a brief second, before touching something in his ear, and nodding. “The President and Joint Chiefs will see you now Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Fenton. Oh yes, they were definitely trying to demean him now.

He nodded at the bulky body guard who’d addressed him, and waited for the aide to either step aside or open the door. Neither happened. Instead, the door moved inwards, opened from the other side by another intern or lackey they made stay late for this meeting. He waited the time needed to allow the smaller aide to move, before striding inside with a calm even gait. Into the first circle...He thought with some amusement. It was a good analogy. After all, Dante returned intact eventually…

Inside the spacious interior of the meeting room was a truly unreasonable number of people. He’d been expecting the Joint Chiefs of Staff and their secretaries, maybe some aides for the President himself, and some consultants. This? It was like the audience to the Salem Witch Trials; every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the White House seemed crammed inside to witness the downfall of the Great Jack Fenton.

He took in the mass of staring eyes impassively. It would take more than an audience to rattle him.

“Mr. Fenton, glad you could finally join us.” So General Birch was leading the charge? Not too surprising considering the man’s current political pull, still, an annoyance. He’d been hoping Secretary Muller would have had more influence.

“As I’m sure the Chiefs are aware, disembarking procedures for a convoy of that size takes some time. I saw to my duties and joined the meeting here as soon as feasible.” A good opening, if he said so himself. Or he thought, before he saw Birch’s negative sneer.

“Surely, after the destruction wrought by the hybrids in Colorado on your equipment and soldiers there wasn’t much to oversee for disembarking.”

A cold way to start this meeting. “Though we lost several Air Platforms, most of our personnel and all of our tanks survived the encounter. They all had be shepherded safely back to HQ and properly organized for repair and any needed medical aid.”

“But, Commander,” Welsh’s turn then, “weren’t most of damaged equipment left in Suffolk in the repair depot?”

“A fair question General Welsh. Though the most damaged of our Air Platforms were left in Suffolk to begin repairs, two were still fully operational and landed in D.C with the remainder of the crew, tanks, jets, ect.”

“If you lost that much equipmen—”

“I hate to interrupt you General Welsh,” he didn’t really, “but our Air Platforms are built with a significant amount of volume redundancy. They are capable of handling a 60% increase in typical operational mass when fully operational. Even having to collapse the remainder of the crew into two platforms, it was tight quarters, though equivalent to approximately five Platforms operating at typical capacity.” So having defused that particular landmine, he turned to address the rest of the amassed senior staff in the room. “Naturally, this fight was not without casualties, however, they were not so severe as to deplete all of the Air Platforms we left with. We are still counting to be absolutely sure, but preliminary counts puts the loss of life at 257. A blow, but a less than 20% casualty rate.”

“18% Mr. Fenton. You can appreciate the seriousness of that death rate.”

“Perhaps more than you General Birch, I saw to the training of many of those GSU members personally.”

“Then maybe you can explain the tactical failings that lead to their deaths, being so intimately familiar with their training?”

Birch was being a hard-ass, but he wasn’t so easily quelled. “Well, it’s hard to avoid the wing of a fighter jet being suddenly flung on top of you from above, or the crush of steel when two Air Platforms are forced into each other by unnatural powers.” He enjoyed the slight paling of the man’s face when he realized the state the bodies must be in from those incidents. Good. He hated the implication his brave men and women were simply incompetent instead of unlucky enough to be caught in an impossible to avoid crash.

“B-Be that as it may, I’m sure you are reviewing the specifics of the battle to shore up any failings. I saw a preliminary report that there was some evidence of ghost possession?”

Jack’s mouth did quirk into a brief frown then. Someone in his organization had loose lips that needed zipping. “That incident is still under intense investigation. It does not seem to be a typical possession.”

“You can’t even train your men to avoid possession Fenton?” Secretary Fitzgerald spoke up then, spitefully poking in from the peanut gallery.

“I think a few members of Staff are laboring under some misapprehensions as to the nature of possession.” Muller. Finally. “Ghost possession isn’t a matter of free will. They use their ecto-powers to override your self-control with their consciousness. There’s no way to avoid it through simple training. Though some mental training has been shown to increase awareness during and after possession, it doesn’t give the person being possessed any more control.” The Secretary stared down the rest of the most senior members of the room then, willing them to marinate in their own ignorance for a spell.

“Well—you—how does your personnel avoid possession all the time when fighting ghosts?!” Fitzgerald sounded incensed then, half from the embarrassment of being so thoroughly reprimanded, half from his line of questioning being waylaid.

“Our ecto-suits usually prevent the intrusion of any ecto-being’s consciousness from interacting with or overlaying with our own. They’ve been specifically designed just for that purpose, which is why I said the incident is under review. To be frank with you gentlemen, it wasn’t a single person who was behaving erratically, but an entire squadron.” He paused to let the gravity of the number of people involved sink in before continuing, “that is far above the maximum number of people under possession we’ve ever recorded in any encounter, let alone controlled by a single entity.”

“But they were behaving erratically?”

“Yes. Our current leading theory is that this is an extension of Second Priority’s… powers over water. It’s demonstrated recently an increase to its abilities. The ecto-hydromancy, if the culprit, would explain the widespread effects and why the suits were less effective.”

“In what way Commander?”

It was nice to be referred to by his proper title. It seemed to have come out of Birch accidentally, an amusing sign of his deferring to his expertise. “Our polymer suits are designed to detect and repel ectoplasmic… “consciousness” let’s say. Their consciousness gives off a very specific and consistent ecto-electric signature. The suits produce a counter signal that prevents possession from happening. It also repels higher densities of ecto-energy, which prevents damage from their ecto-blasts and other attacks. However, it would be impossible to filter out all concentrations of ecto-energy and produce tactically viable suits.” He stopped then to take in their confused expressions. “The suits would be stiff immovable bricks instead of pliable polymer, even medieval suits of armor had movable joints. Concentrations under a certain amount aren’t even harmful to human cells, and so there’s no point in filtering it out...or so we thought. If Second Priority’s powers have mutated the way implied by this last encounter, we’ll have to re-think our suit designs.”

“A constant of this organization, a failure to properly account for the dangers of the hybrids.” A feminine voice spoke from near the President’s side.

Triple damn. Why is Claudia Hying here? You’d think the seriousness of the security clearance needed for this meeting would preclude the harpy from darkening my evening. Jack groused, while turning to face his most serious adversary of the night. The other members of the Joint Chiefs might have personal animosity towards him, but they were military men. They understood or could be made to understand the calculus of battle. Hying though, she was pure F.B., all congressional appointed civvie. “I think we’d require the ability to see into the future to predict this level of hydromancy Ms. Hying.”

“Be that as it may, this is a footnote in the larger tale of inadequacy of the organization on the hybrid topic. But, was it not Second Priority’s ‘hydromancy’ that allowed it to escape your facility in Austin.”

“Theoretically, but it should not have been able to use those powers with the suppressant cuffs we had on it.”

“Then you have another much more serious piece of equipment failure to consider. Are those not the same cuffs you typically use to control ghosts in general?”

Gods above if he did not hate this woman. He could never catch the smallest break when she was involved. “We use a different specialized series meant to prevent them from transforming at all. If we used similar on ordinary ghosts, it would kill them with how strongly it suppresses spectral energy. Of course, we realized there was a flaw in the design after it escaped Austin. The cuffs only prevent them from manifesting their ecto-energy externally, which stops their transformations of course. But the first design didn’t stop them from activating their spectral cores. In as non-ectobiology an explanation as possible, it’s like a device that stops you from moving while allowing the internal contraction of your muscles running your heart or bowels to continue. We thought without being able to manifest their powers, they would be harmless.” “Clearly not—”

“—Indeed, we didn’t realize it could energize and control its own blood enough to pull it out of its eyes and use as a weapon.” Several of the generals squirmed at the imagery, but Hying looked unphased. “The generation two devices are much more thorough, though they’ll require internal implantation, they’ll prevent their cores from activating without our control.”

“Why would you need them to turn on?”

“Fascinating question Chairmen Jefferson, the simplest explanation is for scientific research. Hybrid cores are very much unlike normal ghost’s, allowing them to continue to grow in power seemingly indefinitely, among other horrifying abilities. Additionally, we think several of these hybrids are...natural. Plasmius produces them not through exposure to high levels o—”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’d love to get us distracted into the minutiae of spectral science to distract us from the failings of your organization to capture these beasts, but I’m sure the biology lessons can wait for another time Mr. Fenton.” Claudia neatly interrupted his diversion with a predatory smile. “Now, let’s discuss the equipment loss from this excursion.” She stops to shuffle a few papers around, purely for show, before humming and continuing, “if I’ve done my math correctly, the total sum of lost equipment and munitions totals over 500 million dollars?” She phrased it like a question, but there was no inquisitiveness or doubt in her tone.

“That is close to correct. A preliminary accounting puts the losses at around 490 million, subject to further investigation of course. It can be hard to pin a number of these things so soon after an engagement.”

“Of course,” she simpered, looking back at him from across the table with an artfully crafted sympathetic downturn of her lips. “There’s a lot to take account of in the aftermath of such a poorly executed mission, so let’s say 500 million is a close estimate for the final tally.” He knew this tactic, making it sound like she was doing him a favor by choosing a number closer to his estimate. The witch. “Even saying so, that’s a lot of money, or well, equipment to replace. Even assuming you have the slack in your budget to finance such a sudden loss, there’s the fact your equipment is specialty. It has to be ordered months or even years in advance for some parts.”

“We have a stockpile of all regulation equipment lost in the encounter.”

“Regulation? I’m sorry Mr. Fenton, you just have Air Platforms laying around in wait?”

“The Platforms, no, but jets, munitions, guns, the vast majority of equipment lost. We are an operation that deals in battle, and every military man knows your need surplus ammunition and guns.” He finished then with a quick glance around the room to gauge the general’s moods. So far so good…

“I see. So you’d be down only some specialty equipment...and personnel of course! Then I imagine you’d be spending most of your time and money to replace and train people and to replace…?”

“Eight Air Platforms, and five dozen Levitators, plus one dozen tanks, and several hundred rounds of more specialized munition,” he answered, struggling to keep the crossness out of his voice. He hated details like this, but he also knew she knew that. Trying to get him riled up was definitely part of her strategy to undermine him.

“Some of those pieces of equipment seem regulation to me? Like the tanks for instance—”

“They are not US military issue tanks, their plating and design are specialized to withstand bombardment from all but the most powerful ecto-attacks. They are a re-design of the ones used by the Army, and no Ms. Hying, not the ones used during the War. The only thing close to regulation on the list is the Levitators, but even those are a specialized re-design of the hovercraft the Air Force got from us after the War.” He reached down then to open his brief case, and placed a few papers onto the table in front of him. “If you’d be so kind to pass this along,” he said while handing them to an aide hovering about, “you can see for yourself which items are regulation or specialized and how many we’ve lost by current estimate. Keep it, of course, I have plenty of copies.”

“I’m sure.” Claudia frowned down at the white sheaf of paper, before smiling blandly back at him. “I’m glad your accounting hasn’t suffered any since, from my understanding, most of the causalities were in officers?”

“That...is true. This enemy tends to target leaders of squadrons preferentially—”

She snickered, interrupting him, “you’ve noticed then? Because after Austin and, ah, Amity there was a similar culling of the ranks. One must wonder what your lower ranked soldiers think after a promotion.” Her smile was sharp then, relishing in his tightened shoulders and slight scowl. “How do you plan on replacing this many officers? You have plenty of grunts, assuredly, but from my understanding of your organization’s structure, you expect squadron leaders to head expeditions in the Zone and they need a certain amount of hours to even qualify for a proper promotion.”

“Our bench is deep—”

“Oh please, do not give me sports analogies Mr. Fenton, I like data. Neat. Concrete. Factual. And, do be concise, you can get bogged down in pointless details in your enthusiasm.”

She could smell blood, he could tell, and now she was biting at him. Another glance around the room gave him a variety of patient, expectant faces. They were happy to let her lead the discussion it seemed. Easier for a bureaucrat to get away with it. “Naturally, we’ve had to make emergency field promotions, however after the initial assessments are finished post battle, we’ll be using normal promotion regulations.” He noticed Hying frown and look to interrupt him, so he started up again, “I understand that narrows down our potential options for replacing officers, so we will be scaling back Zone expeditions and making transfers from other facilities across the US as needed. Many of the lowest ranked officers have suitable replacements from willing and capable privates who needed only a position to be opened for them. For the higher ranked officers, approximately 25 positions, you’ll forgive the inexactness, we are still counting the bodies, we’ll use transfers and reduced Zone surveys to fill them until next year. Genuinely, my organization is blessed with many capable men and women who could be officers, but not enough positions. I am more concerned with refilling our lowest ranks since so many ‘grunts’,” and he did stop for bitter sarcastic air quotes around the word, “are going to be officers now. It’s not our typical recruiting season. So our officers will be pulling double duty until we can finish recruiting into the lower ranks.”

“You really think so many of your men are qualif—”

“If you disagree Ms. Hying, you’re free to attend, look through every prospective officer’s qualifications, and sit in on their interviews yourself. It will be a long process, with slightly over 100 roles to be filled, but you’re a focused and determined woman, I’m sure you’d manage.” He enjoyed the frustration blooming across her features as she realized this wasn’t the weakness she’d assumed.

“I’m glad you have procedures in places since this is such a regular issue for your organization.” She was retreating now, trying to find the smell of blood she’d lost.

“All military operations have regulations in place for both field promotions and recovery after such a loss; we do no less.” He noticed the calm nods from the generals around the room, understanding the necessity of such preparations well. It had been a long while since humanity warred with itself, with everyone so focused on the War with the Zone. But since it had ended, previously simmering tensions were coming back to a boil. There was talk of another gulf war...He found it as amusing it was as pointless. His own facilities ran on the near inexhaustible fuel from the Zone, oil was primitive and outdated. An argument for another time. “Members, I understand this was a disappointing engagement, but even loss is not without benefits. Our recovery team also gained access to the technology Plasmius was forced to abandon, including some of its shielding technology. Our technicians are already reverse engineering it.”

“You’d previously said that was impossible.” General Muller, pitching him a slow ball. Hying was shuffling paper about, bidding her time for another attack.

“It would be without access to some of its components, humanity simply has nothing similar in production globally. It was an unexplored avenue, how to hide ecto-energy, but not suppress it. We didn’t get access to the shields it uses to hide itself and its spawn’s nest, but we did find something much more interesting.” He paused to let the intrigue build, only to have Hying kill his building mood.

“I’m sure the Chiefs would prefer facts over your attempts at theater Mr. Fenton.” He hated that damnable woman.

“Of course, merely a break for breath,” he dismissed her charge easily. “We gained components and some blueprints for items that are portable miniaturized shields. Think small enough to wear, and light enough to be mistaken for an accessory,” he explained when he got only blank stares back. “The reason this is so enlightening is previous to this, we haven’t been able to track them. The Chiefs are aware we have their DNA imprinted into all of our global ghost monitoring satellites. I’m sure you’ve wondered how they’ve hidden despite this considering how sensitive they are, so have we. We have part of an answer. The devices are capable of filtering or shielding their energy before it exists their bodies. This will make them not only appear human to our satellites, but also the scanners that exist in stores and checkpoints around the country. As long as they change their appearance and falsify documents, they could pass as ordinary humans while wearing them. It is our belief now that there is a two tiered system of shielding, one they wear and another to hide their nesting areas from our satellites.”

“Is this why they only show up briefly on tracking systems?”

“Yes, we believe so. If the wearable device fails, or is temporarily offline, then they’d be visible to the satellites when outside of their nest. Plasmius is devious and likely carries back-ups to prevent this, but even it can’t think of everything.”

“This is all fascinating ecto-biology minutiae, but how does it help us capture these dangerous creatures?” Hying was back, chomping at the bit for another attack.

He did smile then, happy she walked right into his trap for once. “I’m glad you asked Ms. Hying. Now that we can reverse engineer the devices, we can update our systems, the ones running the satellites and the local scanners. Even if we can’t find their ecto-energy, there is no way these devices do not give off energy, a unique signature only the hybrids would have, as good as scanning their ecto-signature directly. It will take a few months, but very soon, we’ll have destroyed one of their biggest defenses.” He did pause for a sip of water, and dramatics, but the harpy wouldn’t be satisfied without a ready excuse. “That will leave them only their nest to hide in, and even then on borrowed time. The reason they move so often is to avoid our satellites triangulating their position from anomalies in ambient spectral energy readings. Once they are unable run and hide, it will only be a matter of time until—.”

“Until you have another disastrous, death filled engagement with them. Yes, I’m sure America can’t wait for another spectacular failure to be broadcast over their evening news.” Her tone cut through his bravado.

“With all due respect Ms. Hying, I’m sure with the time to prepare this affords the GSU—”

“Yes, but Plasmius was unprepared this time, and didn’t have time to feel backed into a corner. I have it on good authority animals are at their most dangerous with nothing to lose.” She smiles blandly at Secretary Muller, and turns her sharp red grin back towards him. “How would this theoretical engagement be any better than this last one, or any of the others for that matter?”

He did sigh then, put off by her relentless characterization of his organization as incompetent. “The reason the encounters are so deadly is because they are so few and far between. I can see you working up an objection, save it for a moment.” He knew it sounded hostile, but he was done caring. “These creatures must produce their energy themselves. The more time they have between assaults, the more they recover, and the more dangerous they are. If we are able to stay on them and they can’t recover, they will soon be no more dangerous than the average human against lasers and heavy armaments.”

“So your argument is that you haven’t had enough lopsided loses against them, and if you were just given more chances, it would somehow turn in your favor?”

“That’s the most uncharitable interpretation of my statement you could have made.”

“Is it untrue?”

“Yes!” He hissed incensed. “They only recover .075nFentons of energy a minute when completely drained. It takes two whole nFentons of energy to fire even the weakest of ecto-blasts. That means it takes them nearly half an hour to power a single ecto-blast. But this energy gain is compounding. All spectral energy builds on itself in cubic amounts. The weaker they are the slower they regain energy, and the easier it is to drain them further. In a war of attrition we win easily. We just have to stay on them, and it will be like fighting a kitten. Plasmius knows this. That is why its main tactic is to run and hide. Time is on their side, not ours. The longer it takes to capture them, the more their unholy powers grow and mutate. The more time they have to recover, the faster they do and the more powerful they are in the next confrontation. Do you understand now Ms. Hying, or do I have to explain it further for you?” Ok. So that last comment was definitely hostile; he’d have to calm himself before his rage made him misspeak.

“Oh, thank you. That explanation was enlightening. I understand now why your organization has a habit of continuing pursuit even when stretched thin on troops, even some of your decisions during the War make more sense now. Perhaps, I should give ecto-biology a more thorough study.” She was being placating now. Great. Now he looked even more unreasonable, out of control. I really should have brought Jill. She’s much better at handling this woman than I am.

“My field has many nooks and crannies, and the particulars of hybrid ecto-biology is niche, even as they plague humanity. It’s not something that would come up in a cursory study, or even graduate level studies to be clear. I’m not surprised you hadn’t considered the implications, I’ve had to explain them to the Joint Chiefs before. It is the nature of being a subject matter expert.” There. Placating...mostly.

“Understandable why you might feel a little irked by someone with the equivalent of a quick Bing Bong search asking uninformed questions about your subject.” She was retreating again, and the meeting was turning around. Now, all he needed was a slam dunk, and he could likely steer this completely under his control. Three quick chirps rang out into the room from his briefcase. His work cell. No one would dare interrupt this meeting without the world basically being on fire. He stiffened under the silent stares of the meeting’s attendees. They knew it too.

“Are you going to get that? There must be some emergency at HQ.” Ms. Hying’s shark smile was back with a vengeance, thirsty for a turn in her favor.

“If no one minds?” He’s already reaching for the phone, the question merely a courtesy. “Head Commander here.” He nodded as a communications expert on the other ended explained a contact made between one of the hybrids and a civilian. They were breathless. The details were beyond intriguing. The new hybrid had been in contact with an Amity resident. She was sure she could replicate the contact. The more details the technician gave, the more his smile grew. This was perfect, an answer to all of their prayers. He nodded a final time, and hung up the phone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just received some excellent news. A civilian has had contact with one of the hybrids and says they can replicate it. Calm down a moment! We mean over a phone or computer, not in person!” Jack waved his hands at the shouting group around him, corralling them into something resembling calm again. “Of course, we’d never put a civilian into harms way, even to capture America’s greatest enemies. The contact would be remote only, but they are sure the hybrid will respond.”

“What makes them so sure?”

“I cannot give details at this time, we are triple checking their claims, but I can say they say the hybrid feels indebted to them and trusts them.”

“These creatures don’t have feelings.” General Birch then, his voice filled with venom.

He chuckled, before addressing the man, “I agree in principle, but all ghosts have their habits, their obsessions. They are devoted to them onto ‘death’. In the case of the hybrids, they are very convinced of their humanity, to the point of imitating emotion and desire for human connection. They will form ‘friendships’ or ‘repay debts’ the way a human will, because it is their obsession to behave humanly, and ghosts always satisfy their obsessions.” His smile was predatory then, already thinking of the trap he would set. Willing contact made setting one so much easier…

“If you’re so sure, can use this obsession to your advantage?” The Secretary of State then, implicitly asking after the details for capture.

“We are sure they are still well out of populated cities. As long as we can confront them somewhere remote, I’d feel comfortable with another confrontation.”

“So soon?”

“General Welsh, I believe Commander Fenton has already explained that quirk of hybrid biology?” Ms. Hying, to his complete surprise. “Having said that, I’m sure with them so weakened, capturing them is within the organization’s abilities?” Of course, even her gifts were poisoned. With the hybrids so impaired, if they failed to capture even one, the GSU would be going under, even accounting from recovering from this recent battle.

“I’m sure all of them is too steep an ask so soon after a major engagement.” Muller, his only ally, but he was making it worse this time.

“Oh! I’m not a military woman myself. Perhaps all of them is too much. One or two then?” She offered, hands spread wide in a supplicating gesture.

“Ms. Hying is right, you should be able to manage a few, at least one, if they are as battered as your reports suggested.” The Joint Chiefs were all nodding in agreement with the Secretary of State. He’d dug his own grave on this one. Backing out would make him and even the organization itself look weak.

“Of course! I look forward to sharing the details of capture with you all afterwards.”

“See that you do.” The only words the President had said the entire meeting. The only ones that mattered. God help me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amity Park, Michigan; 12.43am; May 6th, 2005

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bustling city of Amity Park was more subdued than usual. The damage from the last ghost attack left debris all over, but it was especially concentrated downtown. Chunks of stone still sat pushed away from the middle of the road, and where they’d landed on top of buildings. Most of the worst had been cleared so that daily life could continue, but even though the ghost danger level had been lowered when the GSU had concluded the hybrid had moved on, the human residents were still hunkering down. Few left their homes for anything less than work or shopping for essentials, and parents flinched when they had to drop off their children for school, the tragedy of the last big incident in Amity looming large in the citizen’s collective consciousness. Still, the GSU never slept, and with increased patrols and a larger presence on the streets, the people of Amity were beginning to relax.

One such GSU grunt drove in for his shift at the main facility. He usually worked the beat, but with the recent attack, he’d been assigned back to the facility. The people wandering around still were imported from other cities. There originally had been a concern this was a break out attempt, the hybrid had walked right up to the facility door after all, but after it escaped, his superiors were left stumped. Unwilling to risk a breach so soon after an attack, or even the whiff of it being possible, they’d re-assigned their beat officers to the inside of the facility and transferred people over to stand around looking important on street corners. He huffed as he passed another foreign GSU member waving to him from his vehicle. He didn’t hate them, he loved his fellow soldiers, but watching them soak up the local’s attention and still not know how to best give them comfort a way a true Amity Parker would frustrated him. Posturing on some street corner was worse than seeing them marching in formation and doing drills in the park or even rescuing cats from trees. But, local grunts like him had lost this argument with the officers, and so now he was coming in in the middle of the night to check on the ghosts they already had collared.

He’d heard there was action, real action, out in Colorado. People had gone to confront the monsters filling the good people of Amity’s nightmares, and he was jockeying some desk. Not literally of course, only officers had any real paperwork to fill out, but it was the principle of the thing! He sighed again as he parked his car, slamming the door when it bounced back out of place. The piece of garbage he drove was a hold over from college, from before he’d gotten this great job with the GSU. It’d been worth delaying. It was faster and easier advancing with a college degree than without. Some of his friends signed up straight out of high school five or so years ago, right before the shit in Amity went down. He’d lost some of them. Truth be told, he’d been trying to avoid the vortex that GSU recruiting could be in his hometown, heading to college somewhere else had been his idea of an escape. After though, he realized there was no escaping ghosts. He’d felt safe after the War. Now he was determined to make the world truly safe.

The door to the GSU HQ greeted him, the hum of their electronic security a warm familiar tune to his ears. He held up his government issued tabtop, and it flashed twice, connecting to the local network. Everything in the GSU facility was isolated as a rule, though they had little to worry about in terms of hacking attempts. Other countries mostly respected their technological prowess and didn’t engage in espionage against them, especially when the GSU shared everything safe almost as soon as it was developed. The Head Commander said he defended humanity and not just the United States. Their advances were to be shared freely.

Still, an abundance of caution never hurt. He leaned into the hand scanner so it could read his prints and smiled when the door slid open. He didn’t know what that nasty creature had been thinking; this place was more secure than the bunker that protected the president in case of a nuclear strike. There was no way it could get inside.

He waved to the guard on duty who grunted in response. Agent Johnson wasn’t a man of many words, but nothing got past him. He heard rumors the man once sniffed out a pen capable of taking pictures from inside the pocket of some bureaucrat without even touching or scanning the guy. When asked, Johnson had said the man had looked guilty or something. No one tried him.

He nodded to the second set of guards as he rounded another corner deeper in the facility, leaning closer this time to scan his eye as well as his palm. The retina scanners were now standard after some crazy shape-shifting ghost was discovered two years back. It fed on human misery the disgusting fucker. It had been in a reporter, an investigative journalist. It also had somehow been licensed as a therapist. He had no idea how that shit worked. They’d found it in a region being decimated by famine, the whole of the country was suffering a drought so severe it culled food crop production.

When it messed up and possessed someone else; it had been close enough to the US embassy to wherever the fuck country to ping the GSU standing guard. It’d panicked, possessed one of the grunts, jumping inside them once unconscious, and tried to enter the embassy. One of the other security measures deeper in finally caught it, but reviewing the incident, they were sure retina scanners would have stopped it from getting that far.

He nodded to the third set of guards, a pair of women nicknamed ‘Thelma’ and ‘Louise’, in that they were definitely best friends, probably dating, and super deadly. It was a shame; his sister had been begging him to hook her up with a cute girl from the GSU and well, he was a tech really. Talking to people was hard and girls harder and doing so long enough to find out if they also liked girls? Ugh! He had to talk to Thelma and Louise though, so he’d thought it was prime opportunity.

He thought he should stop being such a coward about this as the final door that leads into the innards of the GSU facility opened. He was in his twenties now, and a year of GSU training had put some muscle on him. Girls! Not hard. He could do it! He owed his sister for pitching in for college tuition after his Amity specific micro-grants had dried up right after the incident, and he’d been short for that year. The least I can do, he thought while making his first sweep of this layer of the facility, is hook her up with a cutie’s phone number. He frowned as a couple ghosts scrunched up away from the forward part of their cages, flinching away from the ectoranium infused plexiglass lining the front of them.

It made his job harder, assessing their condition. They had to do visual as well as scanner inspections. Apparently, some issues showed up visually before it did on the scanner. Whatever. The couple extra seconds per cage was an annoyance, having to flash on the bright overhead lights to get a good look. The things hated it, but it was for their own good. The ones on this level were weak, level four or so, and recently captured, so they just needed a little training. He finished his first round of inspections, and continued down a set of stairs and to another retina scanner and print checking door. He walked through an energy scanner on the other side, spending a couple seconds being beeped at to be sure none of the ghosts on the previous level had possessed him, despite his spandex, and continued when he heard the “all-clear” beep.

The ghosts down here weren’t especially dangerous either, just more well trained. They stepped closer to the glass like good dogs. It made this level much faster than the previous, and in just another few minutes, he was being scanned again. The ghosts down here though...He thought grumpily. While they weren’t the most powerful in the facility, they were troublesome. The scientists claimed they possessed imprints of human consciousness, partial ones anyway. So they talked, screamed, made demands, begged. It was so fucking obnoxious. One of them whimpered and asked if they could be friends, another made box based threats. He was used to the two of them, they were basically ignorable at this point. They’d just recently gotten a transfer from the facility in Florida, near the Everglades, in trade for one of their ghosts. This one claimed to be a warden of some type, made vague threats about how we’d pay for treating ‘him’ this way. It wasn’t very powerful, but the threats it made...sometimes he’d wondered if it hurt humans the way it described cutting them into pieces. It seemed too visceral, too real. He passed a few more wailing and unwilling assets, before going through the rigmarole of the scanners again along with another check of his tabtop. The ghosts in level four were stronger and had much more dangerous abilities, unique shit like summoning fire and ice or something.

He passed the shape-shifting ghost that had made the GSU install the eye scanners to begin with. It was in its shadow form, having given up on convincing them it was a trapped human and this was all a mistake. It still tried sometimes, but less and less often. He then passed a creature with a muzzle. This one could breath fire. Another few cages, one with a creature shouting temptation at whoever would pass. That one was in a sound proof cage. It could, theoretically, make ‘wishes’ come true like a genie. And like a traditional genie, those wishes always turned out badly. It was responsible for an incident in California and another in Japan before it was captured. The destruction had been horrifying, he’d seen the pictures. It had brought Japan into the ghost hunting game, their summer festival of wishes was now a memorial holiday.

One last floor. He thought, satisfaction at the captured specters, with their fearful eyes pitifully staring at him, thrumming through his veins. It wasn’t as good as a hunt, but looking at their trophies was an adequate substitute. He hadn’t gotten his uncle’s desire to mount deer heads before joining the GSU. The final floor of the facility, past levels five and six that were non-containment, held some of the most powerful and dangerous enemies of humanity. Nearly all of the most dangerous were no longer in Amity after the incident years ago, transferred to Austin and DC. Some of the creatures were too feral, fragile, or horrible to be safely transferred though. The remaining dragon ghosts were among them. He’d only seen them transformed once, watching the footage released during the War by the GSU when he was a teen. Their humanoid ghost guises were much less deadly, but by God had their ‘leader’ been a terror. It was the Head Commander slaying that thing when backed into a corner that made a couple of his friends sign up out of high school…

He stood in front of the last set of cages, poking idly at his tabtop. It was fritzing again, the damn thing. This deep in the facility, the wifi didn’t work great too much concrete and metal in the way. He poked a little longer, switching it to the local network for just this level, and sighed in relief when it stopped freezing up. It was a pain to switch for just this level, but everyone did it, annoying as it was. He stood in front of the third to last door, the little green ghost inside floating, looking innocuous, inside its cage. It didn’t have a collar, unlike every other ghost in the facility. It was only a level 3, the thing would evaporate if left in the Human World on its own. That’s not why it was down here. Despite the pitiful amount of ecto-energy, it had human level intelligence, maybe slightly above human if the tests were to believed.

It was capable of controlling technology, and was capable of human speech. Worse of all, it had been caught using tools...building things. Ignored pieces of electronic scrap or wires turned into weapons under its focused efforts. Because losing track of a ghost this weak would be easy, and because of how creative it was when it came to making tools, it was here, at the bottom of the facility in level seven. He frowned when it ignored his tapping, trying to get it to turn around so he could finish the visual inspection. He sighed and tapped his tabtop instead, determined to finish the scan and then go back to coaxing the little asshole into behaving. This time the worthless thing turned off. He was about to curse his luck and check its battery, he...never really charged it, when it turned back on. It flashed a bunch of rainbow hues, screen glitching and fragmenting.

“Oh god damn it no!” He’d been putting off a needed system update for...ok maybe three months was too long. The abused piece of electronics was now making sad noises like some old dial up modem and flashing like it was trying to give him a seizure. “Please, please, you’re like the third one. I’m gonna get my pay docked if I break another one of you!” The first two were just bad luck, a drop into the family pool with the dog carrying it in her mouth, and kicking it off his nightstand in his apartment during a night terror, but this time...It finally stopped flashing and the screen cleared to the home screen. He poked it tentatively, everything seemed fine now.

Maybe he’d do that update right now. I’m on the least used network and everything, so it shouldn’t take so long. He reasoned before lifting up the taptop to get a little more signal. This time it flashed bright blue once, and something flew out of it into the cage’s electronic keypad. He jumped back, carefully cradling the poor neglected tabtop to his chest. “Oh God, don’t start sparking! Come the fuck on!” He looked down distressed at its now blackened screen, ignoring the flashing now going on the cage’s keypad.

When he looked back up, the keypad was back to normal. He turned away from the cage, trying desperately to reboot his taptop. When he turned back once more, he had just a second to panic at the bright glowing green heading for his eyes, before everything went black.

Skulker huffed, looking down into the face of the dumb GSU grunt he’d just knocked unconscious. “It took you long enough to show yourself Technus.” He turned away from the human on the ground to glare at the keypad in front of his cell.

The technology obsessed ghost materialized from within, hovering just in front of the keypad to sneer down at Skulker. “If I’d have appeared any sooner, the security systems would have caught me! Did you wanna get out of that cage or not?” He zipped back inside of the keypad, interest refocused on the wires and circuits inside. “It takes a lot of ecto-energy to manipulate this stuff now you know! Only an absolute genius, such as myself, could have the know-how and power to have freed you.”

“Yes, yes, the genius master of all technology, worship me, blah blah blah. If you’re done singing your own praises, you could help me locate my Suit, so we can be on our way.”

“Sheesh, so impatient! These things take time.” The electronic beeping coming from the keypad sped up in frequency. “I’ve almost hacked my way into the local network, after that, figuring out where your precious ‘suit’ is will be a piece of—” An alarm, loud and shrill, blared through their level of the prison. “I, uh, I’ve got that…”

“I don’t have time for your bumbling, and we don’t have room for mistakes.” Skulker ran towards the abandoned tabtop and levered it upright with some effort. “Get in.” He ordered.

“But, it’s so cramped in there. Do you know it’s been six months since he ran a defrag on that thing?” The alarm increased up in pitch and a flashing red light came out of the ceiling.

“Get in the damn tabtop and turn off this alarm Technus.”

“Alright, alright, but you’re finding me a better hiding spot after this.” With another grumble about the lack of organization, Technus jumped from the keypad and into the tabtop. It took a second to silence and then reset the alarm, and two seconds more to convince the system that it had been a false alarm.

“Why didn’t you just do that from inside the tabtop?”

“Skulker, what part of no defrag is confusing you? It looks like a tornado went off in here. I’m gonna have disconnected bytes stuck to my coat for weeks because of hovering around inside. You should be more grateful that I, Technus, have come to rescue you at all, let alone thinking you should be able to demand I stay in this disorganized prison of…”

Skulker began tuning out the other ghost’s ramblings, deciding to peer around at the cages on this level. There wasn’t anyone he could free down here, just yet, but he’d promised his and Technus’ backer that’d he’d catalog the max security level’s ghosts. “Hey, are you listening to me?”

“No.”

“Well! Maybe I should just leave you here you—”

“Technus, you know you’re not allowed to do that. Now, look into their network and see where they’re keeping my Suit so we can get out of here.” Skulker huffed when the tabtop flashed a series of rude emojis at him. Obnoxious arrogant ass. “Please, oh great and powerful Technus, help me locate my technology so I can be of service to you.” He could not find his Suit fast enough. If I have to lick boots any longer, my tongue will forever taste of rubber and dirt.

“Ya’ see? Was it so hard to ask nicely?” He felt his face scrunch up, irritation bubbling around in his core at the asskissing. “Bad news buddy, your battlesuit has been dismantled.” This time he couldn’t keep the frustration to just facial expressions, a litany of curses flying off his tongue. He sighed, and glared up at the ceiling towards a random Technus possessed camera.

“So, where are the pieces then?”

“Oh, totally scrapped. Some of it they melted down, others they used as components to build new guns. Huh,” he stopped to look at a particular file about the storage section of facility, “well there are still a few pieces here and there. Most of the good stuff has been trashed or broken down for study though.”

“Great. Fantastic. Is there good news?”

“There’s great news actually. We can rebuild you a better one from the tech they have laying around.” At the narrowed looked crossing the other ghost’s face, he elaborated. “Oh yeah the humans scrapped your stuff, but they did like studying it a lot. Looks like they have upgraded versions of all the pieces of your tech in storage or labs all around the facility. We can stick those pieces together, and then—”

“Technus,” Skulker started, aggrieved, “I don’t just possess technology like you do. The equipment has to be in a state where I can control it from a central hub. If I have to construct it all, that will take hours at best, days more likely. You think we can linger around here long enough to—”

“Don’t cut me off! I was going to tell you, that they made the pieces modular. They snap into each other. I think they are trying to imitate your battlesuit for humans, but doing it stupid-like.”

“Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“You never let me finish anything, I was literally about to—”

A pained groan from the human laying between them got their attention. He stirred, briefly, before falling back into silence. The two warred with each other in gesture and glares, before coming to an agreement.

“Just help me get him into this cage, and remove his ability to communicate, we’ll figure the rest out later.”

“Fine. But only if you apologize for being so rude to me earlier.” He watched Skulker grit his teeth and cross his arms for a moment, before turning to glare at him more fiercely.

“I’m...sorry, for interrupting you. Now. Can we please put him in a cell?”

“Good enough.” Technus floated him into the cell using the cellphone in one of his pockets. He then fried everything that could communicate to the outside world, and slammed the locking mechanism closed. “Ok, so he’s not getting out of there until someone comes to look for him.”

“Do you know how long that might be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t pay attention to human routines.”

Skulker took another deep breath to rein in his temper. The technopath ghost was trying when they’d first met before the War, now a days, he was a menace to his fraying nerves. “You can check the handbook for the rules in the GSU server.” “Oh yeah!” Technus hummed for a few seconds before coming back brightly, “it should be about five hours. He’s known for slacking off, and no one really checks this far down in the facility for breaches. Between that and my genius keeping the system off our scent, we’ll have more than enough time to assemble that upgraded suit.” Technus bounced the tabtop in excitement and jumped in electric form to another piece of machinery. “I’m inside the mainframe now, so you don’t have to worry about carrying me around. Don’t worry, I’ll find something easily portable for you to sneak me out in later.”

“I wasn’t worried.” He gave the caged, still unconscious, human one final look before marching over to the only door to the lab. It’s keypad display flashed green, before it swung open into the hallway beyond. It had been a long time since he’d left the labs; he was looking forward to freedom.

He crept down the hallway, keeping an eye and ear out for trouble. Technus was connected to their security system and every piece of technology connected to the mainframe, but he was easily distracted. Right now, the ghost was rambling about how efficient the backups were for the archives of the GSU and idly noting that he was happy they were much better maintained than that taptop. He could already tell convincing him to trash the mainframe’s files would be impossible. Never mind that hindering the greatest threat to ghost kind was more important than the organization of some computer systems...He clenched his fists as he hid around a corner from the bootfalls of some GSU grunt at Technus’ urging. Ok. Maybe the ghost was paying more attention than he’d thought. Still, he knew asking Technus to trash something as “magnificently luminous” as the mainframe of the Amity Park GSU facility was like asking him to give up on a quarry. Less than useless, even if frustrating as hell for other beings. Sometimes, he wished they weren’t ghosts.

But then the humans’ obsession with eradicating all ghost kind came back to him, and he realized all beings were obsessed with something. Ghosts just got a bad wrap for being more enthusiastic than humans about it. He rounded another corner and finally made it into the first lab with a piece of potential equipment. Something approximating a gantlet was draped over the side of a lab table.

It didn’t look like a piece of his suit. It was a gauntlet, sure, but it lacked the intimidating bulk he preferred in his designs. The material was matte, instead of shiny, and black and cool gray, like the suits the GSU wore. It struck him as ugly on initial viewing, and he consider just leaving it in place and demanding Technus look for the pieces that remained of his real battlesuit. “Don’t be so shy, get over there and inspect it.” Technus hissed from a speaker near the top of the room. He knew he was being petulant about this on some level, but if the aesthetics were this poor, he didn’t have great expectations for the function. The GSU, humans in general if he were honest, had a sense of taste that merged the two together. If something was ugly, it was likely to function poorly too if made by human hands. With a great heaving sigh, he overcame his reluctance and worked his way up to the table.

“I thought you said they improved my technology? This gauntlet looks more flimsy than the very first version I made!”

“It’s made out of a new grade of ecto-steel.” Technus stopped to peruse the files detailing the specs of the armor piece. “They’ve got it blended with this polymer after they spun it into thread. This is really wild stuff Skulker, you’d love the research into—”

“So is it stronger than the original design or not?”

“Well, yes, if these test results are any indication. Maybe they did the tests wrong—”

“No, no, they are through about that.” Still, he frowned as he looked at the floppy glove and wrist bracer combo before him. His misgivings about the shape were making it hard to really assess the abilities of the tech. He closed his eyes for a moment to shove his personal aesthetic desires aside and assess the piece objectively. The bracer was seamlessly welded or molded into the rest of the gauntlet; the material that made up the hand was flexible and with a quick check he realized it repelled ecto-energy. He poked around the bracer section itself, watching compartments open up on its side, but no weapons appear.

“They’re for storage. They can miniaturize things, using something similar to those...ghost traps they shove us into.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, frustrated there were no weapons already attached; he’d feel safer with a gun. The stitching, what existed of it, was tight, the texture suggested the weave of the polymer metal blend was even and strong, even the weight of it was balanced, at least for a human to wear it. Outside of looking terrible, it was a well-made and suitable piece of armor, if the blend making up most of the material was as strong as Technus suggested.

“Alright, where’s the next piece of tech.” He picked up the glove, which was thankfully both lighter than his own original design and lighter than it appeared, and jumped off the table, marching towards the door. Technus whispered the next location and went back to monitoring for humans as he trudged through the bowels of the Amity Park GSU HQ. They popped into two more labs on this level, grabbing another gauntlet, this one blessedly with weapons installed, and a headpiece Technus assured him would allow them access to other parts of the facility. All of that was without incident, it was quiet this deep inside GSU territory. Now though, he stood at the door leading up to the next level. They had to go up two whole floors to travel to the main storage facility where the rest of the suit components were found. He was skeptical this headpiece would let them through. “How is this supposed to hide the fact I’m a ghost again?”

“Well, you’re a pretty weak one. Don’t get mad! I’m just stating facts. That’s the reason you haven’t been setting off very many alarms. You don’t have a lot of ecto-energy, and Amity has a lot of ambient stuff floating around. They had to re-calibrate their scanners to exclude the white noise. Your levels are so low, it comes just over their scanners’ sensitivity.”

“Great, but the door?”

“Right! So, that thing has a ID attached for some lab worker down here. Or at least, it will when I’m done installing the ID onto it. It’s made so people in these battlesuits they’re making can be ID’d without having to scan their hands and retinas, because that would be cumbersome, getting in and out of the suits right? So as long as I can fake the ID, the system will think you’re human and let you through.”

“That seems like a security breach waiting to happen with these things.”

“Hey, it’s the humans’ tech, not ours, no one said it was smart.”

“You said it was smart…”

“I said their mainframe’s organization was smart! Never mind. Just hold the helmet up to the hand scanner and it should let you through.”

“If these things were made to let people through without removing their helmet, why does it need to be read through the hand scanner?” He hopped on the box sitting haphazard near the door, definitely some rule violation, and held it up near the keypad.”

“They don’t have the eye level ones installed yet.”

The keypad beeped and the door slid open into the frame, no further activity or blaring lights happening. “Do they intend to install eye level scanners that can read these things?” Technus was quiet for a moment, likely looking through the archives, before popping back in with a barking laugh. “Technus, quiet…”

“Would you believe they haven’t thought of it yet? Right now when they are doing tests everyone just bends over and holds their head to the hand scanner. There’s videos! All of them bent over waving their heads in front of the keypad trying to find the part that reads the ID.”

“...Ok that does sound pretty entertaining, but try to focus.” He stood on the railing of the stairs, and was able to get the keypad to scan the helmet again. “It is this floor right?”

“Of course, I haven’t given you bad directions yet have I?”

“Just making sure, it will be hard to get these things open with more humans around.” He hopped through the door, balancing everything awkwardly. He was getting more grateful for the reduction in weight in the new designs as the minutes passed. He was huffing hard when Technus directed him to round a corner towards the next piece of tech.

“Don’t worry, this one will make everything easier to carry. It’s some type of storage device you’ll attach to the chest piece when we get to the storage facility with the last of the stuff.”

“It’d better. This junk is not getting any lighter.” He tiptoed into the new empty lab, hiding as the reverberating thud of human boots clanged through the ecto-steel floor on this level. Clutching his stolen pieces of tech closer, his breathing sped up, even after they passed. Damn. This wasn’t just the effect of carrying all of this metal around, he could feel it in the way his core ached ominously. There was a reason the GSU didn’t bother hunting ghosts in the Human World below a certain strength. Not just because they weren’t intelligent enough to cause problems, but because ghosts his strength, who got separated from the Zone, evaporated if they stayed in the Human World too long. They just didn’t have enough ecto-energy stored to survive without a constant influx from the environment. He groaned with relief when the tech was stored inside the much smaller and lighter storage device. Technus babbled something about it being the same one as what was on the wrist of the left gauntlet, but he was having issues focusing.

“Hey buddy, you’re getting real quiet. You ok?”

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with quickly.”

“Are you sure? Because you look sorta funny in the readout of the scanners.”

“I’ll be better once I get my Suit reconstructed and I get out of here.” He dodged down a new hallway to avoid another group of boots and headed towards the next internal door. Luckily, this one didn’t require any fancy scanning ID and he just tapped in a code, after pushing a chair close to the keypad. That’ll draw some attention. He thought tired, but they didn’t have time to worry about that now.

“Ok, so head down the hall to the right, make three lefts, and then go down a staircase. At the bottom there’s a door, no keypad or anything, that leads to the main storage facility.”

“How am I supposed to open the door Technus? Just tug futile-like on the handle until I disappear in a wisp of smoke?”

“Funny. No, I can open this one myself. You’d think they’d guard all of the stuff inside their main storage room more! There’s a bunch of guns and grenades and all sorts of dangerous toys in there.”

Skulker hopped down the last of the steps with a pained grunt and waited in front of the door. “They’ve got a scanner to get into this part of the HQ, is there anything over here that isn’t storage.” Technus hummed before confirming there wasn’t and opening the door. “There’s your answer, the last security door covers everything.”

“Sure, but it has a logger in it that I can’t bypass.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Only because it might look weird in a few hours if this scientist doesn’t come out of the area...or they show up at the entrance. That would be wild.”

“Technus,” he said while heading towards the first crate with the tech he needed, “you’re sure this scientist won’t show up at the door right?” He didn’t put it past the scatterbrained ghost to forget a detail like that.

“Of course not! You doubt my genius problem solving skills?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, he won’t show up at the front door, because he’s in the cafeteria right now.” Skulker paused while grabbing something similar to the design of his original Suit’s boots a warm tingle of panic shooting through his core. “Technus, he’s in the facility right now?”

“Duh, it would look weird if he just showed up without having gone through—”

“So what happens when he tries to leave his lunch break and the system realizes he’s in two places at once?” His harsh whisper was closer to a scream by the time he finished the question, rushing towards the next spot designated by the technopath ghost for needed tech.

“Uh...you know? I didn’t consider that.”

The Zone’s greatest hunter snatched the last piece needed to complete a leg from another crate before a facility wide blaring alarm went off overhead.

Attention GSU personnel, the facility is now entering Lock Down Mode. Personnel ID discrepancy has been detected. For your own safety, please follow all ID registration procedures and proceed to your assigned positions to have your ID’s scanned. All attempts to access the mainframe at this time will be treated as hostile. Thank you for your cooperation.

“So, bad news, I am locked out of the system, or well to be more accurate, I’m locked out of making any changes to security or anything else.”

“Is there good news?” He grunted, hefting a final arm piece out of a box and sucking it up into the storage device.

“Oh no, there’s just worse news. I think I’ve been found out?”

Another alarm went through the facility, a siren screaming out Ghost Detected. “Oh, what would give you that idea?”

“Hey! Don’t get snippy with me; it’s not like I planned this.”

“Can you still get out of the mainframe?” Skulker jumped into the box containing the chest plate, knowing it was too heavy for him to lift out on his own. He slammed the button to absorb the material and then flopped back out over the top of the crate’s edge, bouncing off the floor in his haste.

“Yes? But then I couldn’t give you any directions. I can’t touch anything, their anti-virus is pathetic in its attempts to oust me, but I can still tell you where your tech is.”

“What good is that going to do me when I already know where everything is? What? Are you going to give me a play by play of the GSU pouring in to kill me?” Technus didn’t respond, and he opted to run over to a flat clear area in between some shelves to disgorge the contents of the storage device. Another click and out came a clattering of sensitive tech onto the concrete floor. He gave it a quick once over. Everything was there, he just had to assemble it. It looked like there was space in the chest piece for him to control the entire completed suit. Not ideal, but he could change it later if he survived. “Technus?”

“Just searching for something, and dodging the anti-virus. Oh, they are almost at the security door to the storage area. Looks like they figured out the scientist was in the cafeteria and not possessed fast...There’s a lot of agents.”

“We’re in one of the most secure GSU facility in the country, of course there’s a lot of agents.”

“Are you gonna be able to get out of here by yourself?”

“Of course I will. I’m not just the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter, I’m also an excellent fighter.” Skulker grunted a few times trying to get the ends of the Suit that connected up to each other to seal together. The lightheadedness was getting worse. He looked over the pieces he had left with detached alarm, he didn’t have time for this. “What?” He’d been ignoring the other ghost again as he slotted another piece together.

“I said I’ll cover your escape! You should be honored to have one as amazing as me sacrifice himself in this way. But fear not! Because so great is my infinite brilliance that there are many copies of—”

“—You’re the last.”

“I’m the last what?”

“The last Technus copy, you’re the only one that still exists. Check their archives, if you still have access.” He wiggled the boots into the connection bits for the legs, breathing hard as he struggled to move even that anymore. “If you get captured and deleted or whatever, then you’ll be dead...dead-er.” He amended when he remembered Technus had actually been human once, unlike many others of their kind. At Technus’ frank silence, he continued, “if you want to sacrifice yourself for the ‘greater good’ or some such noble bull, then feel free. But if you thought it’d be fine because you’d live on through another perfect copy—”

“There really isn’t another…” He interrupted, genuine wonder and horror warring with each other in his voice. Instantly, Technus’ full form was in front of the pile of still partially assembled parts. “You aren’t gonna get that together in time.” A loud banging came from the front of the facility. “I’ve got the door locked, but they have a battering ram.” His tone sounded cheerful, like the idea of crumpling in the door was just amazing. “They’ll have to use real explosive to get through. You should’ve seen them bouncing off the door with the ram though, it was hilarious.” Skulker struggled through connecting another two pieces together, hands burning and buzzing. “Maybe you should let me do it, this stuff’s got an ecto-ranium coating on top of it.”

“Oh, now you tell me…” He lies flat on the concrete, staring up at the bright halcyon lights in the ceiling. The concrete really does feel cold. He noticed with dispassion, the energy to get worked up drifting away with the rest of his fading consciousness.

“If you were this fragile, how’d you survive this long?”

“They starve us you asshole.” He still had enough energy to be cross with Technus though. He ignored whatever the other ghost said in response, concentrating on figuring out how to escape. He did perk up when he said it was done, interest turning to ash when he saw the still inactive tech sprawled across the ground. “It’s not online.”

“It’s not charged.”

“Yes, I can see that. If it needed battery packs, why didn’t you—”

“It’s...not supposed to? Too bad I can’t check since I’m out of the mainframe now.”

The room was spinning, and he didn’t even have it in him to frustrated with Technus not checking this beforehand. “Do you remember enough of the specs to know how to charge this thing?” He panted as the ceiling came into and out of focus, the surface pitching like rippling water. He couldn’t pass out. He heard Technus say something, or he heard the noise, but it didn’t resolve into words, disappearing into the rising staticy sound screaming in his head.

He came to with a start, leaning against hard cool metal, sickly green ectoplasm leaking over the surface of the control panel underneath him. Novas my core aches. His hearing came back to the frantic commentary of his escape partner. “What happened?”

“Well you tried to evaporate, so I re-wired the life support system in this thing to send you ecto-energy, and thanks to my supreme intelligence, it worked. You’re, uh, kinda still melting though.”

He grunted pushing himself upright with the half-melted stump of his left arm. “It’ll stabilize and reverse once I get enough energy.” He squinted as the display came up, neon bright and overwhelming. It suddenly dimmed to a more reasonable level. He swiped sloppily against the inside controls, his re-charging ectoplasm slowly rejoining his form. “Ok, looks like you overrode the operating system of the suit.”

“I am far superior to the pathetic OS they installed.”

“I’m sure.” He groaned as his left hand reformed; he flexed all of his still numb fingers on both hands. “How long was I out?”

“Only thirty seconds, but the GSU just blew up the front door.”

“Fucking fantastic.”

“Don’t worry, I can operate the limbs until you finish reforming. Then, you can control the suit.”

“You’re a terrible fighter Technus, that’s why all your copies got captured.” He ignored the other ghost’s offended protests. “My hands are back; I’ve got this.” More bluster than he would have liked at the moment, but they were out of time. He watched as agents surrounded them, weapons pointed, but body language hesitant. He smiled. “Technus, does this thing have a sword?” He watched as a long sharp machete popped up in the display. They didn’t know who they were dealing with...

He stepped over the dismembered arm of a GSU grunt, metallic boot clang muted by the splash of dark red cooling blood. Amateurs. He thought, squeezing the throat of the last agent until it made a satisfying crack. He dropped the limp body and surveyed the carnage. It hadn’t even been an enjoyable battle. “How long until the next group shows up?”

“Radio chatter suggests they’re bringing—maybe two minutes?” Technus corrected himself when he properly registered the question. He felt his core’s beat pick up at the thought of more GSU grunts to disembowel. They beg so sweetly when they realize— “Not to ruin your fun, but we’re supposed to be escaping.”

“We have to go through them don’t we?”

“This is why you got captured.”

“Shut up Technus.” The other ghost was right though. With a deep breath, he ignored his desire to hunt down some more GSU agents and make them squeal for the years of captivity and the War. Later. After. He promised himself, before looking at the ceiling. “What’s the fastest way out?”

“Not up.” He brought up a map of the facility and overlaid it with the proposed escape route. “That gets us out without fighting through too many more GSU grunts.” Skulker huffed, pausing a moment to consider straying off course to fight a few extra agents before reining himself in. He did shudder though, suppressing another wave of battle lust, when they zoomed past an unsuspecting group of agents.

A few minutes later, they’d floated through the last of the HQ’s walls, bee-lining it away from the facility. The blare of the Amity HQ’s alarm was sweet, like the honeyed taste of victory, as the outskirts of the city grew near. They hovered near the edge of the city, cores thrumming with excitement and satisfaction. “How did they find you anyway? Why not just convince the system the ID duplication was a bug?”

“I tried, but my attention was divided.”

“Doing what?” He asked. He brought up a gantlet and pointed it ahead of them, temporary portal crackling into existence. The welcoming green of the Zone called to him, it’s siren tones the lullaby he’d carved the last long years of capacity.

“I had to get information about the permanent openings for Plasmius. Weaknesses, facility maps, the works. That’s a lot of data you know?”

“Sure.” Skulker agreed, scanning the portal to check its stability and connection. The portal let out a day’s flight from his territory. It’d worked. They were nearly home. “That the trade for breaking you out of the facility in Boston?”

“Yup, and delivering it with you to the drop off.”

“I need to see him anyway, lots of catching up to do.” He was stalling. The Zone was right in front of him, just a hair’s breadth away from the cool tingle of real spectral energy from a Nova, and the humming thrum that echoed in every part of the air from it. He could feel his core tugging painfully, wistfully, for home. He just had to step forward. It was right there...and he was stalling.

“Stop being such a baby, it’s been eight years since I’ve been in the Zone and you don’t see me dawdling and wringing my hands.”

“Do you even have any friends you’re scared won’t be there?” Skulker forced himself through the portal. He heard the crackling zap of the temporary portal collapsing right after their passage. Interesting feature. Could be very useful. He noted.

“My ecto-cat definitely misses me.”

“Of course you have a cat...How long until this suit is permanently charged? I don’t want to be stuck listening to your chattering.”

“Oh, the suit is already charged, but it won’t run without an OS, which is me.”

“Technus, you deleted the OS!”

“Well! It wouldn’t accept you as a user and turn on because it sensed your energy. You’re lucky I was able to override it and still charge the suit! Would you rather have evaporated?”

No he wouldn’t… But the other ghost was already going on about the encrypted files he’d downloaded and how ‘glorious’ the algorithm that made it must have been, and they have petabytes of storage in this hard-drive, and—maybe death wouldn’t have been so bad?

…then you better pray for a miracle.

[lynne-monstr]

hi blog, it's friday. and ughhh it's been a week. I was at two different types of dentist, which culminated in making an appointment for a root canal in a few weeks. there are no words for how much I am not looking forward to this. being a person is exhausting. I remember when I was a teenager thinking that one of the primary perks of being a vampire or other immortal creature would be not having to go to the doctor anymore. and you know what, teenage me was right.

I'm trying to think of a silver lining i can say next but the truth is, I think I'm just going to be a big ball of stress until all these appointments are over. I guess I can say that, as far as medical issues go, these are easily solvable things and for that I'm grateful.

I'm going to go for a run and do a little cooking later and try not to think about the rest of it. maybe I'll even work on some fic.

I hope everyone has a good weekend!