#winter cup in elite code

[yurchenko-full]

the whiplash I'm getting from watching meets that use three different codes this weekend

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 4. Duty

4. Duty

Cutting Strings

Characters: Penny, Winter, Xanthic Word Count: 8k

If robots are just tools…

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Primary Function: Protector  

Penny learned many things during her few short hours outside her father’s facility. Those with familiar background and status gravitate towards each other. Penny suppose the human variable meant different was of understanding the world. Same behaviors and actions can be used to express different emotions, particularly when people whisper under their breath and avoid looking at others.  

Though Penny still had a difficulty figuring out how May and Winter communicated with just looks. Even sign language used an actual method of communication.  

So far the Military Event was the best day of her excistance. Her true first day out in the world! She got to learn more about her future teammate and possibly made two new friends, Winter Schnee and May Marigold. But… It was odd, that the best day of her excistense could affect someone that was not present.  

Penny was starting to understand how powerful the gaze was.  

She sat at the facility’s kitchen table, head casted down and hands intertwined in her lap. She ignored the slamming keys and hard-light screens. Across from her, Ashley Xanthic furiously typed lines of code. The hacker would run simulation after simulation, until the checks ran red and continued working. Bit by bit, she hacked into Atlas’ network, byte by byte Penny Polendina was becoming an official citizen of Atlas.  

Ironwood wanted her to supervise the hacker. Something that required closer observation but Penny didn’t want upset Ms. Xanthic anymore. She sighed quietly, squeezing her hands. She wasn’t doing a very good job…  

“What’s the point in running the Kingdom if you can’t cut corners?” Xanthic growled to herself. Penny spared a glance up. Her future teammate took a break to sip her coffee but her head just kept tilting back and back before she just groaned into an empty cup.  

“It’s to prevent-”  

“Abuse of power, total dictator ship,” Xanthic droned. She put her cup down, looking at Penny through the gasps of her hard-light screens. "But here I am, in a secure military facility, hacking into Atlas Security with resources the General provided."  

If the public found out General Ironwood manipulated the system, he would be stripped of both his council seats. If the public found out a hacker had done it, the consequences wouldn’t be as dire. Still the General must have other reasons for using her as a scapegoat.  

Penny looked at her hands again, “He cannot make such quick changes legally, the process would take too long. Everything has been signed and approved-”  

“Of course,” Xanthic snorted. After hours of working, the hacker finally stood up. In a few short strides she was at Penny’s side, boxing her into the chair with slender arms. Penny knew Xanthic wasn’t fit, wasn’t a fighter. Her hands weren’t calloused like Aro’s but steady, soft, and precise. Penny could easily win but somehow she felt small and weak under that white burning glare.  

Staring into eyes that were so similiar to her own… but so full of resentment was not pleasent.  

"So why would the General," Xanthic hissed the title out like venom, “Need me to skip the queue?”  

“And why should we tell a criminal, one caught red handed by General Ironwood himself.”  

“Winter!” Penny gasped, hydraulics in her back straightening her posture. The specialist’s voice alone lifted her Aura, but seeing Winter glower back at Xanthic corrected any insecurities the hacker caused. “What are you doing here?”  

“I don’t resume my duties till tomorrow,” Winter said, eyes closed and shoulders tensing for a moment. Xanthic sneered. Penny ignored it because Winter refused to acknowledge the hacker. “I did offer you a tour of Atlas Academy.”  

“How about you don’t make my job harder?” Xanthic asked throwing up her hands. She walked to the fridge, making sure to brush against Winter so the Specialist was forced to acknowledge her. Xan was shorter, but somehow she seemed to have just as strong of a presense. “Marigold gets a pass but you and Glade are aware of the consequences that comes with fame. You really think people wouldn’t look up the mysterious ginger? She is a ginger right?”  

“Penny did not disclose her identity until after we witnesses saw us together,” Winter said with an annoyed sigh.  

“Now you know. Yet you still insist on parading her around?” Xanthic reason. She crossed her arms and glared threateningly at one of the best Huntresses in Atlas. Both women were too busy posturing and trying to intimidate each other to see Penny shrink ever so slightly. She quickly straightened out again when Xanthic lost with an infuriating sigh. “Seriously. Please don’t make my job harder than it is.”  

“Penny’s cover is already ruined, what else would hinder your task?”  

“Research,” Xanthic said opening the fridge. She frowned and gave Penny a disapproving look. “It’s practically empty. Is that why you’re all skin and bones?”  

“I’m not skin and bones…” Penny mumbled under her breath. It felt… bittersweet, a small victory in admitting what she is but what was the point if they didn’t understand it? Predictably Xanthic didn’t believe her. The hacker rolled her cybernetic eyes and peeked into the freezer next.  

“Neopolitan ice cream. I can forgive the lack of food,” she said with a small smile. Penny added the favorite flavor to Xanthic’s notes. “I can do what Ironwood-”  

“General Ironwood.” Winter corrected.  

Xanthic continued without any acknowledgement, “Told me to do, get the legal documents into the system or I can do a good job and actually leave some breadcrumbs for people to find.”  

“Breadcrumbs?” Penny asked.  

“According to Ironwood,” Xanthic started, ignoring the way Winter’s hand twitched in frustration. She looked for cups and spoons. “You’re another SDC orphan.” At that Winter’s composition changed, for a split second she looked guilty. Guilty and sad over a lie. Penny sealed her lips tight and looked down at her hands. She wasn’t lying but her Aura still flared across her system. “I’m editing old security photos and videos too hide a very obscure Penny in it. So it doesn’t look like she just magically appeared out of nowhere.” The hacker finished, looking at Winter. There was a shift between them… Xan’s voice barely audiable to Penny’s sensitive eqiupment, “We don’t want a repeat of last time…”"  

The Specialist hummed, eyes glaring in Xanthic’s direction but not really focused on her until whatever thought left Winter’s mind, “Very well. I’ll inform General Ironwood.”  

“Unnecessary but it’s your energy to waste,” Xanthic said waving her hand. She sat back down in front of her temporary workstation and went back to writing lines of codes.  

“Waste of…” Winter paused, practically growling under her breath. No sound came out but with her facial expression, Penny practically heard it. “And what would be an optimal use of my energy?”  

Xanthic pointedly looked at the near empty fridge. Dr. Pietro’s facility was locked down durng P.E.N.N.Y’s finalization process. There was no reason to stock so much food in the recreational kitchen.  

“I am not doing your grocery shopping!”  

“I’m under house arrest!” Xanthic threw up her arms. Around both wrist was a bracelet with gravity and lighting Dust built in. Once activated it would pin her arms together or send a volt of electricity. Ideally non-lethal. "And I’m gonna be here for at least three days."  

“I’m sure the General wouldn’t mind if we accompany you.” Penny said quietly. The two barely stopped from yelling at each other and looked at her. “The Ace-Ops rudely escorted you here from you’re home. I didn’t see any bags either… so…” Luckily Xanthic was dressed for the day… still dressed from the previous day. Under Xanthic’s unblinking cybernetic eyes Penny’s confidence waned.  

Winter took a deep breath, a finger on her temple. Penny stared, wishing she would unclenched her jaw instead. “Was it Herriet and Elm? Those two are quick and rash.”  

“Herriet and Vine, actually.” Penny said.  

“Figures. Vine has always been to the letter,” The Specialist started to walk down into the living room, “I’ll contact General Ironwood and request your cuffs be synced with my Scroll.”  

“Oh how kind! Ms. Schnee and her girlfriend taking me out for a walk. May I have a treat Mistress?” The hacker asked, her monotone voice alive with sarcasm. She even struck a pose along with batting long eyelashes. Perhaps it would be more effective if her makeup wasn’t so intimidating.  

Winter scowled and the two Atlas elites stared at each other for a minute. The silent challenged ended in a draw, they broth broke eye contact with Winter taking a seat and closing her Scroll. Within a few minutes Xanthic had finished her ice cream and checked the fridge again. With a some excessive force, Xanthic shut the fridge and continued working. Penny watched her hit the backspace more than she should.  

“Alright!” Xanthic yelled, ten minutes later. “I’ll play… nicer than usual.”  

Winter looked too dignified and controlled to smirk but the air around her was far too smug. Maybe it was the lack of reaction that held superiority? Whatever it was it annoyed Xanthic and puzzled Penny.  

The call only took a few minutes. Winter returned to the kitchen and held her Scroll to the gravity cuffs around the hacker’s wrist. It beeped twice, the cuffs flashing green. Outside an unmarked car pulled up. Once Winter opened the door Xanthic’s attitude resurfaced.  

“Are you fucking serious?” She asked staring at the front seat. Their transport was being driven by an AK-200. “I’d like to live.”  

“I’ll drive if you’ll shut up,” It seemed the Specialist was nearing her limit.  

“Again, I’d like to live.”  

“They aren’t that bad,” Penny reasoned softly. She physically stepped between them, even if they could clearly see above her head. That chip of insecurity wedged into her a little. Winter’s patient gaze gave her the strength to continue with a straight spin and even voice, “Safe driving is within their capabilities.”  

“Hm… fine,” Xanthic huffed crossing her arms. “I suppose three VIPs dying will finally help people realize these things are horrible.” Winter quickly got into the car, hiding her face but the door slammed with enough force to shake their transport. Xanthic sneered, a small victory. It would take more than a simple crash to harm a huntress… but her future teammate was a civilian.  

“How terrifying is it to live without a protective Aura?” Penny asked following Xanthic in. This time Xanthic glared at her while Winter sneered. Penny merely tilted her head in confusion, staring at the hacker for an answer.  

“You and fucking Glade,” Xanthic muttered. She looked out the window and the car was relatively silent as Penny tried to figure out how she insulted her future teammate.  

Their first stop was Xanthic’s house. It was big enough for a family and gated, Penny could see some trees growing in the backyard and a garden being tended too by a robot and two Ace-Op members. Before the gate could close behind them, Xanthic swung the door open and jumped out of the slow moving vehicle. Winter was quickly to follow so Penny felt compelled to do the same, even if her steps weren’t a confident march like Winter.  

“Welcome back, Lady Xanthic.” The robot gardener greeted with a bow. “May we prepare a meal for you and your guest?” Xanthic ignored it, pointing a finger at Clover then Marrow. Rude, Penny frowned looking at the robot. It didn’t seem to mind…  

“What the fuck are you two doing here?”  

“I could ask you the same question,” Clover said. His eyes gently swept to Winter and momentarily lingered on Penny. She ducked her head, eyes on the ground and stepping behind her Specialist. “But knowing Schnee, it’s classified.” He smiled but it wasn’t directed at Winter. Her professional mask didn’t recuperate any friendliness but the lack of a negative response was approval, in a way.  

“We’re ensuring you don’t escape a previously hacked into facility, pack your things, and run off,” Marrow answered. By Xanthic’s scowl and huff at a proper answer, the question must have been rhetorical. Penny was realizing most of her questions weren’t actually questions. Marrow plucked an apple from the robot gardener’s basket and took a bite. He hummed at the taste. “Oh and wonderful place! Very hermit and simple.”  

“The singular word would be self-sustaining,” Xanthic growled arms crossed. She finally looked at her butler. It was a different model than the one Penny first saw, smooth and curved, the design and cut in the chassis flowing almost gentlly. “Pack all the leftovers and anything you can prepare in 10 minutes. Not staying long.”  

“Understood, Lady Xanthic.” The gardenerbot bowed a little, then knelt back down and resume working on the garden. Through the window Penny saw two more robots walk into the kitchen. The robot did use we when addressing Xanthic, the robot’s AI must share a network, a hivemind. One of the butlers was definitely the model Penny saw driving the night they first met. Sharp edges, thick layered metal plates, intimidating faceplate, a bodyguard?  

Marrow whistled, “Impressive. For a criminal.”  

“Standard. For a genius.” Xanthic scoffed walking to the front door. She pressed her Scroll to the lock and it slide open. When Marrow moved to follow Clover stopped him.  

“You heard the bots, we can enter the yard but not the house. Until we have a warrant, they are authorized to open fire under the Home Defense Clause.”  

Xanthic chuckled softly, “Good Bobs.”  

“Thank you, Lady Xanthic.” Her butler chirped. Penny frowned staring at it before following Winter. The synthetic voice was flat, could almost past as human if Xanthic wanted it too.  

“Man… how does manage to show us up on her day off?” Marrow mumbled walking to Clover. “And the girl?”  

“Classified,” Winter called over her shoulder. Marrow yelped, a little surprised his loud voice carried that far.  

The first thing Penny’s sensors detected was an increase of temperature. Once she entered Xanthic’s home she understood why. Servers and machines lined the walls, countless of physical monitors mounted onto a surface and displaying news channels across the world. Others had lines of code or blueprints, one monitor occasionally flashed red and ‘Simulation Error. Project: BILLY unable to sync’.  

Xanthic stared at it but glanced at Winter. The Specialist glanced around the room for any weapon, then trained her eyes on the hacker. Xanthic grumbled, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the table. Like Aro’s home there was small electrical components and tools, but only one.  

A broken robot that looked like a ram laid on the table, small enough to fit in a pocket.  

Penny sat down and slowly reached for it. “May I?”  

“I can’t exactly stop you.” Xanthic barked. Penny flinched and recoiled. Xanthic sighed, “Right, I’m suppose to play nice… Yeah go ahead.” Slowly Penny scooped up the broken bits of metal and wire. Cradling it. “It was meant to be a monitoring bot.”  

“You mean spy?”  

“I mean as in a kid’s pet. The current cybernetic pets haven’t been changed in half a decade. It’s boring.”  

“… But a goat?” Winter asked with a raised brow.  

Xan smirked, “Greatest Of All Time.” This time Winter did let out a visible display of distain, along with… some surprise? Penny giggled at the light flush across her face.  

She politely decline the food the serverbots offered. Winter accepted a smaller portion while Xanthic scarfed it down. They continued their neutral banter for a few minute, talking about mundane robots walking around Atlas. Penny tried to focus all her processing power into examining the broken robot, but she kept focusing in on Winter’s voice.  

They were objects, they were supposed to be weapons. Xanthic scoffed and argued, they were flexible tools, with familial potential. The two agreed that robots were things but not on the functions. Penny’s function was to protect, she was a weapon. She was her father’s daughter, family… Her Aura stirred throughout her systems, sinking and sinking like it was trying to unplug her power unit.  

In her palm was a pet… “May I have this?” Penny asked.  

Xanthic looked at her through the glass of her cup and finished inhaling her water. “Sure. I doubt I’ll be able to work on any of my personal stuff now.” She held up her wrist, cuffs shining in the sun.  

The hacker spent the remainder of the 10 minutes packing some clothes and books. Winter looked through both, packing it even neater than Xanthic originally had it.  

The trip for groceries was short and uneventful now that Xanthic was cooperating. Penny almost missed her antagonism. It was entertaining, Penny found herself fiddling with the broken bot, thoughts drifting. The future members of APCX were quiet. Winter had her usual professionalism on but every so often worry would break though when she looked at Penny.  

Robots were tools, not meant to function outside their purpose. According to General Ironwood, she was a protector. According to her father-  

“I lied.” Xanthic said suddenly. Her volume was neutral but after a car ride with soft music it was an abrupt cut in Penny’s thoughts.  

“Surprising.” Winter sneered. It wasn’t as hostile as it was earlier but not as playful as with May or Aro.  

“Me and Glade have… history. That was supposed to be a gift.”  

“Really?” Penny asked. Winter held her Scroll to the facility’s front door and escorted the two VIP’s back to the recreation quarters. “I checked Aro’s files. There was some inconsistences during her internship with my father.”  

“I’ll have to fix that later then.” They were in the same environment nearly five years ago. That was enough confirmation for Penny. She helped Winter put away the food and memorized what they bought. Penny doesn’t eat, Winter isn’t a frequent visitor- though Penny hope that is going to change, so everything is Xanthic’s. She noted a surprising amount of sweets, either mint chocolate or some kind of strawberry flavor. She favored salt and vinegar snacks. The meals her butlerbots packaged was well balanced, most things fresh from her gardens.  

Winter synced the hacker’s cuffs back to the recreational area. Penny pulled the remains of the robot from her pocket… and stared at it. If weapon can’t be intimate with people, what does her time at the Military Event classify as?  

“Penny?” She heard Winter’s whisper shortly before registering a light pressure on her shoulder. She almost jumped. Her Aura ramped her system, nearly triggering a fight response. With concentration Penny was able to calmly look up at the Specialist. “Are you alright? Did the crowds at the store bother you?”  

“No…” It was her and the hacker that troubled Penny. “I’m-” fine. The words stopped in her synthetic vocals. She could feel her Aura swirl in her chest at the lie. “Just thinking. I’m going to gather some tools and materials for this little…”  

“Billy. I’ll send you the software after you fix it.” Xanthic said.  

Penny quickly excited the room, Winter’s hand just hovering there for a few seconds before Penny turned the corner and lost visual of both of them. Weapons can’t be friends. Penny shrank in, hands squeezing tighter and tighter. She ignored the warnings and only focused on the wires tightening in her chest.  

Then the squeezing gave way.  

Six days since her last artificial skin tear, rest to zero.  

Her room was simple, very similar to the workshop back in Atlas Academy. No bed, only an examination table with mechanical arms for maintenance. The drawers were full of tools, parts, or accessories. Things that was on the workbench for weapons. People did not wear artificial skin. The tear was easy to repair, thin layer of sillicone and wires around her index finger was torn clean off.  

A light knock on her door made Penny jump. Xanthic would be stuck in the recreational area, trying to leave would meant a painful shock. Winter… she was Ironwood’s second-in-command, she may have access to most of the facility but-  

Another knock.  

“Y- Yes?” She called out. To her surprised and relief her father opened the door. “You… knocked?”  

“Winter fetched me, told me that you seemed upset,” Dr. Pietro said. His chair slowly walked forward, as if ready to turn on a moment’s notice. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted privacy or not.”  

“Ms. Xanthic is restricted to the living quarters of this facility. Winter would be authorized entrance if allowed here,” Penny said. Pricacy was a human concept. She wasn’t… “My privacy is unnecessary.”  

“That does’t mean you can’t want it,” Dr. Pietro said gently. He looked at Penny’s hands and took a breath. Concern, worry, love. Emotions meant for people. It was easy to read these emotions from her father, yet somehow tiring.  

She was tired of seeing him worry.  

“I’m sorry,” Penny mumbled.  

“Maybe this entire Vytal Festival is a bad idea…” For once, Dr. Pietro’s voice was stern. It wasn’t hard like how the General’s could get but it was so odd hearing him frustrated.  

“No!” Penny yelled. She gasped at her own volume. Dr. Pietro jumped in surprised but he didn’t look mad. In fact he nodded and encouraged Penny to continue. “I want to fight! I want to see Vale.” And after the stories Aro told them during the Military Show, Penny wanted to see Minangire. May told stories about the mountains in Minstral and Winter balked at the heat in Vacuo. She wanted to see the world. Her simulations programs were the most accurate ones developed but nothing compared her own experience.  

Her father looked concern again and Penny made a noise. It was a reflex she hadn’t perform before, that hum of frustration May did so much. Her father looked shocked but smiled and laugh.  

“I’ve never seen you pout before. My, my, one day and you’ve learn so much already,” He said patting Penny’s hand. “And that’s really the General decision to make. And I doubt he’s changing his mind.”  

Penny let him repair the tear in the artificial skin. She made sure to watch, wanting to cherish the moment just as the others cherished their visits to other kingdoms. A moment that was truly hers and not programed into her. A special gel will act as a conduit for the wires and adhesive for the silicone. His hands went to work soothing everything back in place, encouraging the material to bound in a way that wouldn’t leave a mark.  

“I will always worry, my dear,” Dr. Pietro said. “I know you are fully capable of taking care of yourself, but it’s just what fathers do.” The word stirred in Penny’s processors, she hoped it would stick. After all, weapons didn’t have fathers.  

“Then… what do daughters do?”  

Whatever Dr. Pietro had to say wasn’t fully vocalized. Instead the smile dropped for a moment and he sighed. “That depends on the girl,” Dr. Pietro said, “Specialist Schnee chose to leave her family… Family company to protect others.”  

“And… Ms. Xanthic?”  

Dr. Pietro raised a brow, “I think it’d be best if you asked her yourself.”  

Penny flinched at the thought. There was a 2% chance of a pleasant conversation. 95% chance Xanthic would yell at her. Penny left the remaining 3% as open-to-human-nature.  

“I… suppose,” She grumbled. There was a 100% chance of avoiding confrontation with Xanthic if she did not ask.  

Primary Function: Protector Daughter

[pumpfounguare-blog]

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[jhara-ivez]

Enderal Character Ask// thx to The R3d Painter

1. The basics Name: Jhara Ivez (Jhara->“Misery“, Ivez->“Archer“)

Sex: male Gender: male Age: 25 Race: Half Arazealean Eye color: Light blue Hair: Blond Sexuality: bi

2. Describe their appearance. He’s intimidating. Like 90% of the time. The other 10% is very boyish. 3. How do they like to dress? He usually wears the armor of the Ash Warrior outside of Ark. Inside Ark he likes to dress more casually, but mostly he prefers darker shades of colors.

4. Do they have any markings (scars, tattoos, birthmarks)? He's got a lot of scars from his Ostian days. Mostly from aggressive stray dogs.

5. What are they like? Describe their personality (use whatever tools you like):

I don't need a crown,

no palace, no jewels,

wherever I am,

every place is my home.

I am a tramp,

but I am free,

the cup passed from me.

To be free does not require much.

Only who is free is a king.

Shameless takes the cheeky thief

because he forges his own luck.

What others dream of,

I'll take at night.

My walk is equal to a white wedding horse.

A fearless king,

guarded by mercenaries,

a vain god... in my heaven

(In Extremo – Frei zu sein)

6. How would they describe themselves? He would describe himself as a stray.

7. Education level? He's skilled with numbers and is able to read. That's basically it.  

8. What are they proud of in themselves? What are they embarrassed about? He's proud to outwit anyone at cards and dices. He's also proud to be quick and rather talented in stitching things together... He's embarrassed about his sleeping pattern. People randomly try to give him 'good advice' on how to get to sleep properly („Drink some hot milk!“). 9. Do they know any languages other than Inal? He knows the language of his mother's tribe.

10. What, if any, aspects of their mother’s culture influenced them growing up? Due to his mother he learned how to deal with horses. She told him a lot about her country of origin, the customs and language. A great deal was his mothers book of arazealean fairytales, they both hid from the fathers eyes. He learned about the original meaning of words like 'freedom', 'heroism', 'survival' and 'war', that were completely misused in the southrealms ideology, which made him wary about the Creators ways.

11. Name a song (or a few) that remind you of them. In Extremo – Frei zu sein In Extremo – Zigeunerskat

12. Speaking of songs, can they sing? What is their voice like? How about instruments? His voice is pleasant and has a certain melody when he speaks due to his accent. I always imagine him to sound a bit like Kendji Girac. Singing or music was never something he did on his free will (although he might be able to sing without all of Ark closing their windows and doors to him)

13. What was their life like before coming to Enderal? Jhara was born on a stormy day in winter. Yet as soon as he was born it was not sure if he would survive, not because of illness, but because his father was sure that he was not his own blood. This may be true. Jharas mother married his father eight months ago by force and lived in Arazeal before, maybe spending time with other lovers. In his fathers eyes Jhara therefore was a sin, that was to be killed or to be abandoned. Why he did not do any of it is still unknown. His fathers hate is seen clearly in Jharas first name, meaning 'misery' in the old language of the arazealean tribes. His childhood was marked by violence, against his mother and himself. The most important reasons being his fair skin-, eye- and haircolor which gave a great contrast to other inhabitants of the southern realm, who mostly appeared to have darker skin and darker hair along with darker eyecolors. Four years after his birth his sister was born. Jhara liked her although she was clearly his fathers first choice. Nonetheless he tried to be a perfect son, working hard on his familys farmyard. His maintask were the horses, and since his father liked it better if he was outside he spend a lot of time with these animals. Political events never reached his ears. His father did not talk about any of it at home and Jhara never left the farmyard and its surrounding area. The transition of power in Ostian came unnoticed, as well as the massacre that happend just a few hours afterwards in the city and the urban fringe. Later this night the tempels militant elite, commonly known as the masked men, came to the farms, lit up the houses and killed a lot of farmers in cold blood. Jharas family was part of the desaster. He luckily (?) was not at home at the time but saw the smoke from the distance. By returning to the farm it was already too late. Not knowing what to do he hid himself and stayed near the house for a few days before hunger was too strong to ignore. Begging on other farms to get a new place to stay he was send away with insults and prejudice. His only chance was the city, but the way was tough. Desertheat and dangerous animals lurked everywhere. His horse did not make it in the end, which was another blow of fate to aggravate the pain. When he made it, finally, Ostian was not what he expected it to be. The city was dangerous and monitored. Guards were everywhere. Other children and teens on the streets lived in groups, hidden from the guards, Most of them got into fights a lot of times with each other, but also provided some kind of protection. Jhara was not welcomed, since his outer appearance was considered 'too noticeable'. All on his own he survived physical and psychological violence from other teens, passersby and the militia. These experiences significantly shaped his behaviour. Surviving in a world where the stronger one has less problems, where the militia showed violence and aggression without reason and death was nothing uncommon, he developed aggressive behaviour himself. Pickpocketing, stealing and getting into fights became his usual business, as well as the trade of stolen goods. He also learned to hunt for snakes in the swamps und the desert.

14. How did they decide to leave Nehrim? The final decision was made when the war between the realms of Nehrim became unbearable and the harbour was shutting down.

15. Describe their relationship with Sirius. Sirius was the only one who dared to befriend Jhara in Nehrim. Nevertheless the relationship was complicated. Jhara often made fun of him for being 'not even able to pluck a chicken' while Sirius tried to be Jharas good conscience with questionable success.

16. Who do they blame for what happened to their family? It was only because Jhara snuck away that night to spend time with his favorite horse that he survived the mass execution, so he partly blames himself too. What he found when he returned was traumatizing. Strange men with swords made of silversteel and his family screaming in agony and fear, crucified and burning.

17. Apart from stowing away, have they ever broken the law? Too often to count.

18. How honest are they? Under what circumstances would they lie? Jhara is seldomly honest. He's closed off and knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. The only time he is clearly honest is when he's around his horse since horses read body language and not words.

19. Worst memory(s)? Best memory(s)? Best: The image of seablue eyes Worst: Besides seeing his family, his horse, Jespar, Bushybeard and Sirius die and being bitten by a rattlesnake?

20. Fight, or flight? Depends on the rate of success.

21. Describe their combat style. Jhara fights with two swords, a) the Falcata which is perfect for crushing someone's head (it's useful for cutting wood too) and b) a longsword which is perfect for blocking and parrying. He depends strongly on his own reflexes and his quick feet (if a fight does not turn out as it was supposed to). He uses the kiléan bow from horseback. In occasional quarrels he depends on his fists and dirty tricks. Jhara: “Oh deer!” *rips a deerhead from the wall and throws it at the opponent* Jespar: “No deer-jokes as long as I am still here...

22. Have they ever killed before? What is their reaction to combat? He has never killed in Nehrim since all of his actions there were supposed to happen without being seen. In Enderal however, after figuring the whole shit out, combat sometimes gets a bit out of hand. His lack of moral codes makes him a merciless fighter. Sometimes he even thinks about killing as something funny and makes it even more painful for his opponent. If rage takes over the identification of the remains can turn out to get quite difficult.

23. How do they react to having magical abilities? Do they use them? Since magic reminds him of the temple's evil priests and militia he refuses from using it except for occasions when he has to.

24. What do they think of Enderal? He thinks the people are unable to haggle properly, are strangely superstitious and can't make proper bread, but in general he likes his new life there. He instantly fell in love with the landscapes.

25. Did they do the Biggest Egg Hunt Ever quest? Yes. And then he encountered the alchemical features and the poor starling never got his eggs.

26. How do they feel about joining the Order? What do they think of Arantheal? Most of the time he has no feckin' clue how he got himself into this mess. He does not fit in and he doesn't like 99% of the people there, but as it seems he has no other choice and at least the payment is quite nice. („And does someone know where all the silver tablewear vanished to?“) Arantheal counts into the 99% of people he does not like. This is mostly due to the fact that Jhara feels like a dog unleashed from the kennel whenever the calculating, old bastard sends him onto missions. He has a feeling that there is something fishy about him, but can not really tell what it is except for the obvious pride-issue and the I-am-infallible-attitude.

27. What is their opinion of the gods (or lack thereof)? Jhara gives a shit about them and he's not very good at pretending otherwise. Gods never helped anyone.

28. Wine, or pipe? Wine. Peaceweed only via second-hand-inhalation~

29. Do they spare or arrest Hallys, the farmer-turned-bandit in the quest, Deus Ex Machina? Why? Jhara spared him. He was more concerned (and secretly pleased) about the fact that he of all people had to decide his fate.  He even picked the decision without asking Calia what she thought about it. In retrospect he strongly agrees that he picked the right verdict, because a dead or imprisoned farmer plus impoverished family is worse than a few people from the Undercity who “can not show their gratitute” properly.

30. What are their feelings and opinions about the Undercity? Jhara doesn't like the concept at all but he visits the Undercity often enough to make some questionable 'friends' down there. In his opinion change must come from within, but most people are too stupid or too weak to even try, especially those who still believe in the gods. If no one is ready to take risks he's not the one going to push them.

31. How do they react to the beggars of Ark? He usually has conversations with them and tells them some secrets to hear some secrets in return.

32. Where and how do they spend their time when in Ark? Jhara frequently visits the Dancing Nomad and the Marketplace. Since he's pretty vain with his hair and beard he also visits the bathhouse in the Nobles Quarter quite often or pays a visit to the Fat Leoran to listen to Gerril's singing.

33. What would they do with three wishes? a) end the Circle b) keep Jespar safe c) keep Meran safe

34. How do they feel about death? Do they fear it? Death is something that occurs to everyone. Jhara is deeply afraid of it nonetheless. Especially now that he has one guy and a horse to protect.

35. What (else) do they fear? Spiders. He absolutely hates them.

36. Do they have any secrets? Jhara rarely ever sleeps. He dozes off a lot but never truly sleeps deep enough to dream. Most nights he spends outside wandering the city or down in the Dancing Nomad, because he feels caged up in his room.

37. How is their behavior around people they like? People they dislike? Jhara is not an honest person. He often plays his own kind of game, cheating along the way and bending rules to his advantage. He can be very charming, funny and downright sexual, but usually he is relatively quiet. He often appears to be out of reach and egoistic. Therefore he does not do friends that easily. If he doesn't like someone and has no further gain from said person he can be very rude. He also likes to step into peoples personal space to test out if they back away or not. For people he likes however he acts like a fallen guardian angel if necessary. He's very loyal and tries to impress them at any given chance. 38. What is their relationship with the companions? Who, if anyone, did your prophet romance? With Calia it's more friendship or comrades-in-arms, but Jhara lacks the commitment to really make it work. Calia does not understand his sense of humour and he thinks of her moralcode as absurd. All in all it just works because both are very patient with one another. Jhara feels drawn to Jespar like a moth would to a flame. The mercenary provides the risk, the adrenaline and also the honesty Jhara needs in his daily life. There is a lot of not-so-friendly banter going on between them, but everyone who takes just one longer look at them can instantly see the chemistry between them. They are both utter idiots – Jespar being Jespar and Jhara trying to imitate a peacock with all his attempts to woo him.

39. Was there any non-companion character that they were close to? That they particularly disliked? Jhara likes Ulfur Featherdance, the innkeeper, a lot. He's always in it for a few words of wisdom, shuts his eyes to cheating at card games and dices and keeps the key to Jharas room. Other than that Jhara took a liking to Lishari and Firespark, even thought the old man probably doesn't feel the same. He especially adores Andrasta Braveblood for her interesting idea to murder people via paintings (and for her beautiful face). A character he disliked was Rynéus because he just dislikes children (minus his sister).

40. How do they feel about myrads? He's terrified of flying. Cuddling the myrads is fine, as long as he can stay with both feet on the ground.

41. What dreams or ambitions did they have before coming to Enderal? What about afterwards? Before: Surviving. After: Surviving.

42. Do they like cities? Or do they prefer the country? Is there a region of Enderal that they like or dislike more than the others? He loves the sandy dunes, blue glowing stones and exotic fauna in the Powder Desert as well as the near beaches, it's where he and the horse both feel at home. Other than that he likes the Goldenforst and the Farmer's Coast. In general there is no region he really dislikes. It might just be a bit too cold for his liking. He likes to be in Ark too, but nothing beats roaming the wilderness.

43. What do they do to lower their considerable stress? There's nothing better than drinking, ripping somebody off at card games or dices or participating in a good old barfight to get all that frustration out of the system. Or sex. Or listening to Jespar's voice.

44. Describe their perfect day off. He would have a cake with a lot of honey and dates and fresh figs for breakfast, stroll through the streets of Ark later, take a nap in a sunny place somewhere and in the afternoon he would fetch his horse and ride to the beach at the Farmers Coast to take another nap there.

45. List three of their favorite things. Three things they hate? Favorites: the heat, the sea, Jespar's eyes (because they look like the sea) Hates: Endralean bread, dreams, spiders

46. What’s in their pockets? Dates, coins, some jewels, lockpicks, Jespar's letter  (maybe a bit crumpled after all that time), a comb (because he's vain with his hair), a hone, bowstrings, a pan, one or two books, coal to write or tag something, two sets of extra clothes, seashells, two blankets, one or two bags with clean water, an XL-scarf, a few pieces of leather or leatherstripes, a variation of needles, some healing potions

47. Pets? Mounts? Treasured possessions? Jhara owns a horse. This horse is called Meran (the brave one). Everyone at the stables knows Meran, because he is the son of a vatyr. He's a rather big chestnut stallion with four white legs and a white marking from his forehead to his lips. The blacksmith doesn't like him and everyone else doesn't want anything to do with him either. He's unmanageable and a pain in the arse. One can not handle him with kindness, nor with friendship, nor with softness. Then again you can not handle him with dominance or aggression or firmness either. And then there comes this foreign idiot and takes one look at the horse and both fall in love with each other immidiatly. Nonetheless it took some time to establish the rules, because Meran was sure that all humans were idiots and unable to give clear signals and had to learn again to listen carefully. At least around Jhara he became very gentle and loyal like a dog, other humans were still idiots. And for Jhara this horse became his little brother because horses are family and must be cared for accordingly. He spent vast sums of money on the most beautiful crafted horsearmour he could think off and when he found „treasures“ like nice seashells or pearls or small gems they usually ended up stitched somewhere on the tack. And when there was that bandit who had the nerve to hurt Meran... Well, it was interesting to listen to his whining for almost the quarter of an hour after cutting off both his hands, piercing his cheeks and tongue with an arrow and letting him dangle from a tree to attract the attention of wolves.

48. How are their cooking skills? He knows how to produce full roasted flavour while grilling an innocent salmon. Honestly he just eats what he gets, without really appreciating the taste. The only thing he is picky with is the bread (he only knows sand-baked flatbread which is not as sour in taste). He loves everything sweet like honey, dates and other fruits.

49. Do you consider any particular quest or side quest to be definitive for your prophet? Which one(s) and why? Into the deep would be the first one, because it was in the seacavern that the bad gut feeling first started to make itself known more strongly. The second would be A song in the Silence because he was deeply terrified of the father and Rynéus and in fact the whole village. And the third was All the dead souls. Because it happened too fast, and Jespar was an idiot to go in there alone, and Jhara got so, so angry and everything became a blurr and in the end he felt just hollow and his outrage had no effect whatsoever because you can't turn back time by slaughtering the sister.

50. How forgiving are they? For example, if they were yelled at in a brothel after searching high and low for this little sh*t, how would they react? Jhara with a broken heart, a lot of dammed frustration and anger is terrifying as hell. In the conversion itself he's patient as far as his patience goes, but afterwards... let's say there happened to be a few innocent people with broken bones on the way back to the surface.

51. What do they think of the Veiled Woman? He would like to know what exactly she is. Likewise he's annoyed of her constant riddles and sudden actions.

52. If they had been a victim of one of the black stones, how would it have affected them? What would they have used its power to accomplish? I think he would have created a bubble where he has his peace and quiet. And just when he gets terribly bored of all this peace and quiet he would go on a rampage.

53. What was their reaction to the Black Guardian’s revelations? Do they accept or reject his offer? In fact the thought did not really register with him. Being dead or not was suddenly unimportant. He heard the offer and Jhara did not think twice about it. He had to save Jespar, to get him out of this mess, if there was any possibility left, even if that meant destroying the beacon and die in the process for real, despite not knowing for sure if Jespar really was dead or alive. Him maybe being alive was enough to die for.

54. How does their story end? Badly.

55. Do they change over the course of the story? In what ways? He changes in a way he can not comprehend. It goes from being important to being important to someone, and I think that's what made the difference.

56. Anything else you’d like to share about them? Jhara adores tigers. He has heard stories about them in Nehrim and always thought that Jespar looked like one of those big cats when he killed off enemies with the grace of a brabaric dancer, who cut one man's throat and had his eyes fixed already on the next target. When he saw a tiger for real the first time he got nearly killed by it because he was so faszinated.

57. Bonus: For you- what are you most excited for in Forgotten Stories? E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.!!!!!!!

[spicelupin-blog]

F.Weasley: High-Class

Fred Weasley. Golden Trio Era.

Summary: Fred Weasley hates the upper-class pureblood society, yet at his first society ball he meets a person he finds fascinating.

Warning: None.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Fred Weasley  x Reader

Words: 1958

To say Fred Weasley wasn’t the least bit judgmental was a bold-faced lie. Despite his belief that all wizards are equal and muggles are boring but alright, he still put his nose up to the filthy rich pureblood wizards. He, being a pureblood himself, saw nothing wrong with any blood status but the way people like Malfoys treated people made him hate that side of wizarding society.

Unlike many other pureblood families, the Weasleys were never invited to fancy Christmas balls at Malfoy Manor and Molly had never received an invitation to join Nancy Parkinson’s elite book club. They were outsiders in the pureblood world, and frankly, Fred was just fine with that. He had no desire to dress up in ridiculous dress robes and have to make small talk to with Lucius Malfoy. He was perfectly content with spending Christmas Eve with the Weasley lot in the toast Burrow, slipping puking pastels into Percy’s tea and playing Quidditch with his brothers and sister.

But Fred couldn’t be invisible to the world of wealth forever. He learned that when he and George’s joke shop began picking up steam. Soon, they were becoming wealthy themselves and other people were noticing too.

At the beginning of December, a majestic eagle owl flew into their shared apartment. It landed right on George’s stack of pancakes, making the wizard groan and roll his eyes before snatching the envelope from the owl’s beak.

“Bloody bird,” Fred heard George grumbled as the owl ate some of the crumbling pancakes by his talons. The bird, happy with its snack soared off through the open window it entered through.

Fred grabbed his cup of coffee, joining his brother at the table. After gulping down a sip of the hot liquid, he asked, “Who’s it from?”

“Can’t be from mum, that’s for sure.” George quipped, referencing their family owl, Erol and his almost non-existent ability to fly in a straight line.

“I don’t know, maybe Erol beefed up when we left.” Fred joked.

George made a noise of agreement before tearing open the letter. He read through it, his face twisting into an array of emotions. Confused, then annoyed, then conflicted, and then finally a bit cheeky.

Fred, who was watching his brother closely, inquired, “What does it say?”

He grinned at Fred, tossing the thick parchment his way. “We are invited to a Christmas ball.”

Fred raised a skeptic eyebrow, reading the letter quickly.

Dear Mr. Fred and George Weasley,

We at Malfoy Manor would like the invite you to attend our annual Christmas ball. It will a winter wonderland, a night filled with banter from the elite of the wizarding world.

Dress Code: Black Tie/Formal and Strict.

We Hope To See You There,

The Malfoy Family

“Mental, absolutely mental,” Fred spoke, a look of amusement on his face. This was hilarious to him. The Malfoys who have looked down on the Weasleys for decades are inviting them to their party. Wait until the rest of the family heard.

“I know right,” George laughed, casting a spell on his pancakes to make them less squashed again. “But we’re going right?”

Fred choked on his coffee, “What?”

“We’ll be meeting possible investors. All the richest wizard folk show up to these things. Plus, it will make us prominent. If we want to be successful then we need to hang out with the successful people. It’s like a ball in chain effect.” George explained around his bite of pancake.

“Or like an airborne illness,” Fred said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be infected by those people.”

“We’re not being infected!” George declared. “We’re mingling.”

“I don’t want to mingle with the Malfoys. And neither do you.” Fred pointed out.

George sighed, “Fine. We won’t mingle with the Malfoys. We’ll stop by and thank them for inviting us to their gaudy party and then make our way to the richy-rich people. We leave there after eating some lobster and getting a few investors interested. Barely any Malfoy ‘illness’ poisoning our way of life.”

Fred pondered it for a minute before letting out a frustrated exhale. “Fine.” George gave his twin a big grin. Fred grinned back saying, “You had me at lobster and money.”

~~~

“You don’t look nearly as good as me.” Fred joked and he saw his twin wearing the same dress robes as him, only in dark brown.

George snorted and rolled his eyes. “I think I look rather dapper, actually. The brown matches my eyes.”

Fred chuckled, straightening the collar of his own black attire. “Come on, Gred, we have a ball to attend.”

Fred and George grabbed their wands, apparating outside of Malfoy Manor. The usually dark and domineering looking mansion was decorated with hundreds of lights and the hedges were cut into different Christmas symbols. When they stepped inside, they were greeted by servants taking cloaks and coats from the wizards and witches arriving. The ceiling was cluttered by floating candles, much like the enchanted ones in the Great Hall in Hogwarts. Only these were scented, filling the room with gingerbread and pine trees.

They shook the Malfoys hands, who were greeting their guests by the door. Even Draco, who scowled at the twins, forcing a smile on his face to be hospitable.

“Welcome.” Draco greeted through gritted teeth.

“Nice to see you, Malfoy,” George growled to the blond boy.

“Merry Christmas,” Fred added in passing, a frown etched onto his face.

“Same to you both.” Draco darkly smiled, then turned to smile at an incoming plump middle-aged witch.

Fred and George escaped the building crowd in the entrance hall, entering the large ballroom nearby. The room was immaculate. The large chandelier in the center was decorated with pine branches and hanging mistletoe. There was a long table with a lacy white tablecloth on it, covered with a display of elegant food, mostly notably lobster.

“Jackpot,” George whispered before sauntering off to feast on some of the crustacea, leaving Fred behind.

Fred stuck to the wall of the ballroom, trying to avoid bumping into people and knowing no one other than George, who was pleasantly conversing with a fat wizard by the food table.

To his right, a pretty witch appeared next to him. She leaned on the wall with heavy exhale, looking a bit winded.

“Are you okay?” Asked Fred, hoping to make some kind of conversation instead of looking like some antisocial git.

The girl looked over at him, flashing him a breathtaking smile. “Just a bit winded.”

“Why is that?” Fred inquired, not wanting to pry but having no choice if he wanted to have any kind of a conversation.

“I’ve been dancing all night.” She told him, sounding exacerbated.

Fred raised his eyebrow. “Is that bad…?” He trailed off.

“Exhausting.” She corrected. “My mother,” She gestured to a pretty older woman talking to a group of distinguished magical people. “She’s trying to set me up with someone but she won’t admit it. She keeps throwing different guys my way like I’ll fall in love tonight.”

“Pushy mums can’t be fun.” Fred agreed.

“Not at all.” She agreed. “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name, Mr…?”

“Fred Weasley. Just Fred, if you don’t mind. I don’t think formalities apply when we’re around the same age.” Fred smiled, reaching out a hand.

She took it, shaking it daintily. “In my world, formalities always apply. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Just Y/N works for me as well.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Y/N,” Fred said, still holding her hand in his large one.

Y/N smiled up at him, then glanced over her shoulder. She turned back to him, a small frown on her face. “My mother is watching us.”

Fred looked over in the direction Y/N had and saw the women observing them carefully. She didn’t seem upset by the scene, actually, she looked almost happy.

“I think your mother is enjoying the show,” Fred smirked.

“Why don’t we take the show outside then? Unfortunately for her, this show is private.” Y/N remarked, tugging Fred by their connected hand out of the ballroom.

Y/N grabbed her cloak from the servant by the door and dragged Fred to a random balcony overlooking the garden below. There were even enchanted light tangled into the bushes there, making the ground below look like a night sky. Y/N went to a stone bench by the railing, sitting down and patting the place next to her.

“So, Fred Weasley,” Y/N began as Fred sat next to her. “Why were you attached to the wall all night?”

“I didn’t want to come here. My brother, George made me. He said it would be a good business opportunity.”

“So you’re a businessman? What is your company?” Y/N asked.

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It’s in Diagon Alley,” Fred told her, feeling the pride that always filled him when talking about his business.

“I’ve been there before. I have a cousin who loves that kind of pranking stuff and I got him his birthday present there. The er, Sneaking Snackbox-”

“Skiving Snackbox,” Fred corrected. “One of my personal favorites. You have good present taste.”

Y/N softly laughed at that, “I suppose so.”

“You should come by sometime. I’ll give you a tour and if you’re lucky I might even throw in some free samples.” Fred said with a wiggle of his eyebrows that made Y/N giggle hysterically.

“You’re a strange man, Fred.” Y/N stated as she giggled.

“Strange like Dumbledore or strange like Snape,” Fred questioned, trying to be serious but the glint in his eye betrayed him.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “I wouldn’t be talking to you if you were strange like Snape.” She shook her head. “Definitely Dumbledore. I can see you with a white beard and everything.”

“Been there, done that.” Fred shrugged, remembering the incident with the goblet of fire.

“Oh, I have to hear that story.” Y/N demanded, leaning forward in excitement.

By the end of the story of how Fred and George contracted long white beards, Y/N was howling with laughter, leaning on Fred for support.

“You and your brother are ridiculous.” Y/N laughed, resting her head on Fred’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes but that ridiculousness made some amazing stories.” Fred nodded, taking in the sound of Y/N laughter. He was desperate to hear that sound over and over again.

“That I cannot deny.” Y/N giggled, looking up at Fred.

The two stared at each other, just taking in each other’s eye colors, the curve of the other’s cheekbones, the plumpness of the other’s lips. Soon, Y/N’s lips were all Fred could think about as he leaned in closer and closer, finally pressing his own to hers. The kiss was brief, as a loud person walked by the entrance of the balcony, making them jump away in fright. When they were both back in their normal state of mind, they shyly looked at each other.

“I’m sorry…” Fred apologized. He wasn’t sure if that was a very gentlemanly thing to do. He had never been this intimate with such an upper-class girl before. He wasn’t sure if there was a way of doing things that he wasn’t aware of. What if he had to ask her mother for permission before kissing her? Or kissing was against the rules until they were technically together. Fred wouldn’t mind being with her one bit, but in the meantime, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“About what?” Y/N quipped, cocking her head. “I liked that a lot, actually. In fact, I wouldn’t mind another.”

Fred’s concern wiped off his face, and he grinned. “Oh really?” He teased. “Well, I might be of a lower class but even we know to never keep a lady waiting.”

“So don’t.”

Masterlist

[wizardhq]

EVENT #36 { THE MINISTRY CHARITY BALL / TREE LIGHTING  } 

“During the holidays we call customary patterns of behavior “tradition.” And like any pattern, once established they are not easily broken. Sometimes we convince ourselves we can start new traditions.. only to realize it wouldn’t be a tradition if it changed.”

  Ah, the Wizarding Elite; famed as the rich, beautiful, and the magical. What’s the thing that ties them all together? The first answer that comes to mind is usually galleons, but you never really know what lays beneath the surface at Gringotts unless you see for yourself. No, no-- ask any reputable witch, wizard, or wix of society, and you’ll find that in some way or another, they’re connected to the government. The Ministry for whatever country they’re from is what links them all, whether they have family working within, or connections on the inside. Either way, it’s a connection they all strive to deepen. As leader of the magical world, the British Ministry is the one that remains on the tips of everyone’s tongue. Love them, hate them, either way? You still talk about it, and right now, everyone’s talking about the annual tree lighting. 

   A huge Christmas tree that rivals even that of the one in Muggle New York at the Rockefellar Center is grown and decorated on sight, and stays there till after New Years. The whole of the Ministry is festooned with Winter decorations, and transformed for a feast and ball that makes the wealthiest of wizards jaw drop, complete with a red carpet and press from the Daily Prophet.  Tickets are highly sought after, and just as highly priced for the sake of the chosen establishment for the year. They start at 200 galleons a pop and get higher depending on where you want to be seated during the feast, one thousand dollars in muggle american currency, and this year, it’s the Wittle Wix Orphange that’ll be receiving all of the proceeds-- but it’s no worry for the elite, as chances are they’ll just receive a decadent invite in the post ( or pretend they didn’t have to shell out some money to get it there. ) Anyone who’s anyone is going. Regular members of Wizarding Kind, with zero connections to the Ministry or the Elite and no galleons to spare, usually try their luck with the ticket lottery. All in all, it’s the perfect place to schmooze and rub elbows with wizard kind’s best from across the globe, including Minister Bagnold and her family. Will you be one of the lucky ones to win a ticket from the lottery? Or perhaps you have enough connections to procure an invite, or buy one if it comes down to it? Or maybe, just maybe, you’re one of the few everyone is dying to meet. Can’t wait to see you there.

MINISTRY CHARITY BALL & TREE LIGHTING: 

Tree Lighting – The fancy tree lighting will be one of the first things that take place during the evening, with flutes of champagne or sparkling cider for those too young passed out for a toast to Wittle Wix Orphanage.

Entertainment– Some of the classier artists of this century will be in attendance and singing. There’ll be a full orchestra, with household names like Celestina Warbeck, amongst others in tow from across the globe.

Food- There will be hor dourves and three course meals served, as well as the fancy desserts, and an open bar, with magically refilling drinks to keep the guests happy. Remember, the wealthiest of the wealthy will be here, so no expense will be spared. Use your imagination.

Dress Code - Black Tie. You will find everyone in their best dress robes and floor length gowns, again, no expense spared.

The Contest- All of the proceeds from purchased tickets and donations from guests during the first night will be given to Wittle Wix Orphanage, and in return for donating any amount, a person shall be entered into a raffle. The prize? A trip to the St. Regal Resort in Aspen for a one week stay!

Duration- The event will start at 8PM, and go well into the hours of the morning.

Transportation: This is the kind of event that Wizarding Kind goes all out for. The muggle block surrounding the Ministry from above will be given the illusion that it’s under construction to the Muggle community, so that way the elite can flaunt their carriages and luxury vehicles transformed to run on magic. The bathroom entrances will be transformed into descending staircases into the Ministry, where everyone will be expected to give their name or show their ticket to gain entrance. Those of importance will be redirected to the Red Carpet, and those who aren’t will be directed towards the main affair. 

Student Transport Notice – In a bid to further advertise their services, WiZBest has offered to transport all students attending from Hogwarts for free. Students can reserve one of their standard flying town cars, similar to the flying coach buses used for school trips, by owl post. They’re also available for more extravagant transport, though this will cost them, just like everyone else looking to arrive in style. Of course, students can choose to get there by other means not limited to the company. They may want to make sure that they’re not mirroring the muggle Cinderella tale though, and have their permission slips from their guardians in order concerning Hogwarts curfew. ( click to read more about student curfews on the “schedule” tab. )

WAYS TO ATTEND / OOC :

The Elite / Click here to read the description of the Wizarding Elite on the alumni page (first one at the top.) – If your character fits this description, they were most likely invited to bring more attention to the cause / in the hopes that they’d donate money to it. It should be noted that many of the Elite are involved in the Ministry, but being involved in the government doesn’t automatically make you an Elite. If you decide that while they’re of the Elite, they didn’t receive an invite and thus had to buy their way in, it’d be because they weren’t considered “appropriate company” for this particular event. Do with that what you will. Note: Please remember that the Wizarding Elite, full of half-bloods and purebloods, are basically the magical version of the Upper East Side. If you wouldn’t find them on a HP themed episode of Gossip Girl, you won’t find them here either. 

Celebrities – So, your character is famous for something but doesn’t fit the criteria of the Wizarding Elite? That’s fine! If they aren’t the type to flaunt that they’re rich they probably didn’t get an invite though, since the whole point is donating. It’s nothing personal, it’s just about money for donations at the end of the day. If they are the type to flaunt money, then they definitely got an invite in the mail for free!

Connections – All they need is to be connected to one of the invited Elite. Think of them as the person’s “people”-- they’ll be deemed important enough to attend for by proxy. 

Through Purchase: Hey, maybe your character just had some extra money to spare! They’re not elite, nor are they known in society, but they’ll get to act like they are for one night.

The Help / The Press – One of the benefits of working at the Ministry is getting into soirees like this for free. You didn’t think that Minister Bagnold was going to keep out the people who actually work for her, did you? Employees receive the same invites as the elite and are allotted a plus one. Then there’s the Press, who get complimentary badges signifying they’re allowed to be there to cover the event. They don’t get any plus ones. 

Ticket Lottery – If your character isn’t of the Wizarding Elite, has no connections to it, doesn’t know anyone from the Ministry, and has no extra money, then they’ll have to have won a ticket which comes in packs of four. To be clear, they won’t win by accident, anyone who says they did is lying, and they will have people jealous of them if they do. It’s a big deal.

General Note: Because this is literally the Ministry for Magic, there won’t be any gate crashers. Please choose one of the reasons above for how they got in so they can attend the event, or how their parents got into the event and them by proxy, if that works best for your character if they’re a student.

IMPORTANT OOC DETAILS:

This event will start on NOVEMBER 25TH AT 1 PM EST and end on on DECEMBER 4TH AT 12 AM EST, though it’ll take place IC in NOVEMBER 25TH / SATURDAY. This will all purely be a dash event. Please put all posts (including any private thread starters, pictures of outfits, anything related at all) under the tag wizard:charityball&treelighting88. 

House Cup opportunity for students: Each reply counts as a point towards their house. Submit to the main the amount of replies you did in order to cash in for your student’s house, or it won’t count!

This event is meant to be able to merge both the alumni and the students for interaction, although this is definitely a chance for alumni characters to shine.

You can have your character talk about this event in advance.

I understand if you can’t get online, but if you’re online I expect your character to participate at one point or another. I will message you if you’re online and not participating in the event at all. This event is mandatory!

This is NOT a canon event.

Please like this post after reading it.

If you have any questions, please feel free to message the main!

[colourupuniforms]

Rugby union and Rugby League in Australia

Rugby union is a popular football code within Australia with a history dating back to 1864. Although traditionally most popular in Australia's rugby football strongholds of New South Wales, Queensland and the ACT, it is played throughout the nation.

The principal competition in Australian rugby is Super Rugby, which is a multi-regional competition across the southern hemisphere. 

With the competition expanding from 14 teams to 15 for 2011 and to 18 teams in 2016, Australia entered five teams—the Reds of Queensland, the Waratahs of New South Wales, the Brumbies of the Australian Capital Territory, the Force of Western Australia and the Australian conference's newest team, the Melbourne Rebels of Victoria.

The National Rugby Championship was launched as the next level below Super Rugby in August 2014. As of the most recently completed 2017 season, the NRC consists of nine teams – two from Queensland, three from New South Wales, one each from the Australian Capital Territory, Victoria and Western Australia, plus the Fijian Drua, effectively a developmental side for that country's national team. 

The Buildcorp NRC runs for 11 weeks from August to November. It includes preliminary rounds, with each team playing each other once (four home and four away games), one bye week per team and a finals series (semi-finals and final). 

Below the NRC are traditional capital city competitions, such as the Shute Shield of Sydney, Queensland Premier Rugby of Brisbane and Pindan Premier Grade of Perth which formed the highest level of domestic competition for much of the sport's history in Australia.

The national governing body of Rugby Australia launched a new top-level women's 15s competition known as Super W in 2018. The new league features five state/territorial representative teams—the ACT, New South Wales, Queensland, Victoria and Western Australia.

The men's national team are the Wallabies, who have won the Rugby World Cup twice, in 1991 and in 1999. The Wallabies play in Australia's traditional sporting colours of green and gold. 

They are considered one of the top rugby nations, owing to success at the World Cup and consistently high ranking, being ranked fifth in the world as of 21 August 2017.

Rugby league football in Australia has been one of the country's most popular sports since it started being played there in 1908. It is the dominant winter football code in the states of New South Wales and Queensland. In 2009, it was the most watched sport on Australian television eclipsing the AFL nationally for the first time with an aggregate audience of 128.5 million viewers.

The elite club competition is the National Rugby League (NRL), which features ten teams from New South Wales, three teams from Queensland, and one team each from Victoria, Australian Capital Territory and New Zealand.

Australia has a rich history of rugby league, first taking up the sport in 1908 alongside people in Britain and New Zealand. 

The rule changes over the decades have been partly instigated in Australia as well. The country has been dominant over the other rugby league-playing nations for many years, but enjoys a strong rivalry with New Zealand.

Commonly known as "league" or simply "football", and sometimes referred to as "the greatest game of all", it is traditionally seen as a "working man's sport" with its roots in the working class communities of Northern England, compared to rugby union which has its roots in prestigious English public schools. 

The Australian Rugby League Commission, the sport's governing body in Australia, is working on ways to expand rugby league's popularity across political and social boundaries.

 For Customized Rugby Uniforms Check the below Site.

Colourup Uniforms : http://colourup.com.au/

Refer : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rugby_union_in_Australia

[mermaidsirennikita]

September 2017 Book Roundup

Undoubtedly, I read two standout books this September: Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust, a sometimes-macabre retelling of Snow White (with a feminist spin) and Mari Lu’s Warcross, the story of a girl, a tech mogul, and a virtual reality game that can make or break your future.  On to October--I’m going to try to read as much spooky stuff as possible.

This Is Not The End by Chandler Baker.  3/5.  In the near future, a substance called “lifeblood” has made it possible for people to be resurrected even years after death, revitalized and fully healed.  Laws restrict how many “resurrections” people are allowed and when they can resurrect someone--you can only resurrect one person, and you can only perform the resurrection on your eighteenth birthday.  Following a terrible car accident, Lake has lost her best friend Penny and her beloved boyfriend Will.  Not only is she--mere weeks from her eighteenth birthday--torn between which to resurrect; she also has already promised her resurrection to another person.  This was a very quick read for me, and I found it compelling and at times moving.  So many different issues are tackled--are resurrections ethical?  Should people be held to promises they made--and in Lake’s case were pressured into--years ago?  Hell, Baker even goes after the ethical arguments surrounding assisted suicide and the disabled.  The problem is that while I understood the logic of why only one resurrection is allowed per person (population control) I couldn’t understand why someone could only have a resurrection done on their eighteenth birthday.  Sure, I see why only legal adults can request resurrections, but why is the request time such a short window?  More concerning was the fact that there is a romance in this.  Yes, a romance between Lake--a girl who just lost the boyfriend who’d been her best friend before they dated, a guy she fantasized about marrying someday--and some other guy... weeks after said boyfriend died.  I can understand having sex with someone while grieving, but this felt more like we were supposed to see Lake beginning to fall for someone else.  I’m not saying that can’t happen, but it distracted from Lake’s story and the themes surrounding it.

Dress Codes for Small Towns by Courtney C. Stevens.  2/5.  Billie is a preacher’s daughter in a small Kentucky town.  She and her best friends--collectively known as the Hexagon--have been tightly-knit for years.  But everything changes when Billie finds that Janie Lee and Woods, two of those friends, have feelings for each other.  And Billie might just have feelings for both of them.  “Dress Codes” is about figuring out gender and sexuality in a John Hughes sort of lens.  Stevens does have a really distinct voice, and some turns of phrase were beautiful--while others were, in my opinion, a bit overwrought.  A bit too forced.  Billie and her friends just didn’t think or speak in a way that seemed recognizable to me as teenager-y.  And while I was touched by the story, in a sense--it was also quite boring.  I wish I’d loved this, but I just didn’t.  I think many people would, it’s just not my cup of tea.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust.  5/5.  This retelling of Snow White takes on the dual perspectives of Nina, the “wicked stepmother” and Lynet, the cossetted princess.  Nina’s side of the story takes place from past to present, telling the story of a girl with a heart of glass--assured by her father, the alchemist that replaced Nina’s rotting heart to save her life, that she is incapable of love and being loved.  Lynet is her stepdaughter, the spitting image of her mother, protected by her father, and made of literal snow.  Fate has pitted these two women against one another, despite their love for each other.  Time will tell if they will fulfill their destinies.  Pitched as a feminist fairy tale retelling, this book will disappoint you if you’re looking for knife-wielding assassins and monologues about how women are meant to rule.  I love that it didn’t have any of that.  This story is made of subtler stuff, its beautiful, sad prose focusing on the relationship between Nina and Lynet, and how they’ve not only been forced into roles they don’t want to play by men--they’ve been turned into the antagonists in each other’s stories... by men.  Poetic and beautiful and not without a dash of romance--one of them featuring wlw at that--this is a must-read if you love gently dark fairy tales that will hurt your heart.  (Even if it’s made of glass.)

Genuine Fraud by E. Lockhart.  2/5.  I’ll be honest, I skimmed this for the most part.  As someone who hasn’t seen or read The Talented Mr. Ripley, I’m told that this is basically a gender-flipped version of that, following teen criminal Jule... or is she???  The thing is that this is a story told in reverse-chronological order, and even though I figured out the twist very early on, how we got there was so confusing that I didn’t even want to figure it out.

Love Minus Eighty by Will McIntosh.  4/5.  In the near future, beautiful women who’ve died young are cryogenically frozen and temporarily “awoken” for five minute sessions for men who want to talk to them--typically, men who can afford the $9,000/5 minutes fee that comes with these “dates”.  If chosen to be the brides of these men, these “bridecicles” are revived permanently--making them desperate to do whatever they can to be chosen.  This story focuses on three people: Mira, a bridecicle who’s been frozen for decades and longs for her lover, Jeanette; Rob, a young man who falls in love with bridecicle Winter after accidentally killing her; and Veronika, a dating coach who can’t seem to find love in this connected world.  This is a sad, occasionally funny story about the perils of a world in which we’re so connected through technology that actual human technology is difficult to find.  It’s not super unique in that respect, but the bridecicle concept is both fascinating and grotesque.  I couldn’t put it down.  With that being said, the romances in the book were a bit lackluster for me, and I at times wasn’t sure about how Veronika’s perspective connected into things.  Still a really good, thought-provoking read.

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera.  2/5.  Thanks to a service called Death-Cast, everyone is given 24 hours (or so) notice on the day of their death.  Teenagers Mateo and Rufus have just found out that they are going to die, and though strangers, meet up through and app called Last Friend and decide to live out their last day together.  Just... I don’t think Adam Silvera and I are going to be friends, y’all.  First off, this world is pretty much ours aside from the weird death service, and there was really no explanation as to why everyone just took this service at face value.  Sorry, I really feel like we’d fight that.  Also, Rufus’s dialogue in particular was cringe as fuck.  It was so uneven--he’d use slang and I got the impression that Silvera was going for “impoverished gang kid talk” with him but then he’d have a whole paragraph of dialogue in a manner totally inconsistent with “I’m in mad love with this dude” or whatever.  And there were so many other points of view when Rufus and Mateo’s were the only ones that really mattered.  Like, points for diversity, but nah on everything else.

Warcross by Marie Lu.  5/5.  Hacker and bounty hunter Emika Chen is, like everyone else on Earth, a fan of the virtual reality game Warcross.  As poor as she is, she hacks into the game--and in a desperate moment, steals an item that would fetch the money she needs on resale, using a glitch to do so.  This catches the attention of Hideo Tanaka, Warcross’s billionaire creator, who flies her to Tokyo and offers her a job (that pays 10 mill, by the way): she needs to enter the Warcross Tournament--a major event--as a player and secretly act as his bounty hunter, searching for the unknown--and dangerous--Zero, a mystery to even Hideo.  So this is hard to describe but damn is it good.  Emi is a character who has an unlikely resume but it actually seems plausible in the context of her life and her world.  Same goes for Hideo, who is probably one of my favorite characters to come out of YA this year.  The stakes build as the novel does--and as Emi grows close to Hideo, which, like, obviously she was but fuckyeahI’mintoit.  It’s super fast-paced, entertaining YA and I honestly enjoyed it more than Lu’s Young Elites series, which I loved in the beginning but was ultimately disappointed in.  So.  Hoping the rest of the series lives up to this book!

One Dark Throne by Kendare Blake.  4/5.  The second in what is now a four-book series, One Dark Throne continues the story of triplet queens Mirabella, Katharine, and Arsinoe.  Where Mirabella was once the clear frontrunner to be the next crowned queen, recent events have revealed that it could be anyone’s game--though the fact remains that the winner must kill her sisters.  Arsinoe hides her true gift from almost everyone, pretending to be a naturalist still; Mirabella deals with having her world rocked, and questions her relationships with her sisters; and Katharine, called the “Undead Queen” grows increasingly unstable--and powerful--after her near-death experience.  I can’t say that One Dark Throne was quite as compelling as Three Dark Crowns, as it was a very talky book.  Furthermore, Mirabella, one of my favorites of the first book, was a shadow of her former self.  Arsinoe is clearly poised as the protagonist of the sisters, but... I don’t dislike her, but I don’t find her compelling either, and I don’t care much for her friends Jules and Joseph either.  They’re so typically good.  Katharine is worth reading the whole book for--you never know if she’s mad or aware of some truth nobody else has caught onto.  Furthermore, she has the best romance in the book--taking the form of her fraught relationship with Pietyr, a boy she loves and hates.  While I still love the concept and the world and Katharine and all the poisoners really, and this was a good book, I think everyone else needs to get on my girl’s level.

There Is Someone Inside Your House by Stephanie Perkins.  3/5.  New to the tiny town of Osborne, Nebraska--and hiding from a dark past--Makani lives with her grandmother, is trying to ingratiate herself her new friends, and pines for school outsider Ollie.  Then kids start getting murdered, in shocking ways.  As Makani struggles to avoid being next, she grows increasingly afraid of her secret being revealed.  This book has been compared to Scream, and while there’s sex and blood, Scream it is not.  I mean, it’s basically one of Perkins’s romance with some murder thrown in, and it disappointed me because I wanted so badly to be impressed with the genre shift.  It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but like... just that.  It wasn’t the genre.  Shit--I thought that at least the mystery of the killer would be good, but it wasn’t.  It kind of shocked me to read the author’s note about Perkins spending six years researching this and workshopping the book, and--not to be mean, but while it was entertaining, that effort did not show.

The Merciless by Danielle Vega.  1/5.  Girl goes to new school.  Girl makes new friends.  New friends suggest performing an exorcism on another friend.  And so on.  I thought this would be fun gore, and while it was gory, it was... not good.  So bad, really.  The book was incredibly basic and boring, and took the least interesting turn regarding the exorcism possible.  I hated it.

[clubpenguinheadcanons]

How about a scenario to unravel: A situation where Ace disappears (with team reactions?). Is it mission gone wrong? Kidnap? Something more sinister at play? Who knows! Knock yourself out however you wish (or not that is ok to don't dress

Thanks Anon for loving my work, here’s a little something for you!  Sorry it took so long! Yadda yadda undercut. 

Word Count: 5,810

Blood/injury/death mention.

Ace doesn’t know what feels worse, their splitting headache, the searing pain on their side, or the frigid wet cold that they feel all over. Well, at least they have a blanket on to keep warm. Ace snuggled up to it, forgetting about the day that was laid out before them. Well, until someone started calling their name.

“Agent, wake up…” The voice was a bit deep and angry.

“Five-five more minutes…” Ace mumbled. They don’t know why they can’t move their arms or feet, and honestly, they don’t care. They just want to sleep the pain away. They turned away from the voice, hoping that it will leave them alone.

“Oh for Pete’s sakes! Wake up!” The voice tore the blanket off of Ace, making the penguin shiver from the cold.

“Who do you think you are-” Ace turned around and saw that the voice was in fact, Herbert. Standing tall with a scowl on his face and a tattered, and a bit bloody blanket in his paws. That was when everything fell back into place in Ace’s mind. That they were sent on a scouting mission, they were seen and chased, and now…captured. Of course, they lost their phone and jacket in this whole mess as well. Ace frowned.

“Who do you think I am? My Agent, such mean things to say to the hero that took your cold, bloody fowl body in and dressed your wounds and gave you a blanket! You should be glad that I have some compassion and I just didn’t leave you to die outside in this insufferable weather!” Herbert threw the blanket back at Ace, smirking that it hit the penguin in their face.

“Oh, I am so sorry Herbert! My great savior and hero!” Ace’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. They hate being captured, but at least they were alone in this. They’ll be fine, they just got to find out what Herbert is planning to do and find a way to escape. “So, why did the compassionate Herbert tie me up if he is so kind?” Ace tried to put the blanket on them, yet with their flippers tied, that is something hard to do, so it just fell to the ground. Giving a glare at the blanket was all that Ace could do, hoping that they had some mind powers to move it.

“For goodness sakes, you are even more pathetic than the last time I remember.” Herbert walked up to the penguin and wrapped the blanket around them. Wouldn’t want their enemy to die of hyperthermia. The freaking penguin is shaking like a leaf and seems to be a bit blue around the feathers. “As you must know, just because I won’t let you die, doesn’t mean I won’t keep you captured here.”

“Oh, so what will you do? Brag about your intelligence? Oh! Oh! I know! You will tell me about your tragic backstory yet again! Or how “The Great and Powerful Herbert” captured one of the Elite Penguin Fools’ best agents! Oh please, Herbert, don’t be so cruel, I’d rather succumb to my wounds than to be bored to death.” Ace looked down at their wound that was bandaged up, they forget, how did they get that anyways? They remember being chased, and falling down, then the pain. Did Herbert do that to them? They looked up at the polar bear, seeing red on his paws. Well, whatever that can be seen with his paws made into fists.

“You’re testing my patience Agent. I am this close to letting you go outside in this snowstorm and wait until you turn into a popsicle.” Herbert gritted his teeth as one hand pointed to the outside and the other rested at the bridge of his snout. Oh, how much he loathes this Agent. Their sarcasm and fight being the two things that annoy him the most. Sure, the penguin is a fun thing to trick, yet somehow, in the end, that penguin gets the upper hand. If it was luck that fuels this agent, Herbert is just waiting for it to run out.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But really, what are you planning to do with me?” Ace would rather not get the boot to the outside. They remember the snow storm being terrible when they left for their mission, getting worse with every passing moment, by now the storm must be too dangerous to even think about going out.

“Um…well…” Herbert paused and think. What was he going to do? He had no plans to think of at this moment, all of his resources for the winter are being used to grow his own vegetables and to survive, rather than take over this pathetic little island. He looked back at the agent and smirked. “I’m going to interrogate you! I shall beat answers out of you and make you quiver in fear!” Yeah! That’s what he’ll do! “Right Klutzy?” He looked down at his small friend.

“Click, clickity.” Klutzy grabbed a flashlight and handed it to Herbert.

“You’ll never get anything out of me Herbert.” Ace squinted as Herbert shines the light into their eyes. Goodness, that hurts their head. Maybe they got a concussion as well? Welp, that’s a shame.

“Oh shut up, I will get inside your little bird brained mind and get all of your secrets about the EPF!” Herbert glared at Ace, maybe that will get them to talk? Who knows, in fact, Herbert doesn’t even want to try to beat some info out of Ace, he could just get it by hacking into the EPF mainframe or something else. But maybe they have something that isn’t on the computers? “So why did you even try to stalk me?” Eh, a good place to start.

“You really think I will talk Herbert? I know nothing and won’t say anything.” Ace sighed. Is he really going for this? Whatever, he’ll just get bored and move on, hopefully.

Ace really wish it was that simple. Herbert tried for hours upon hours to make them talk. Going on from asking the same question, to threatening to stick Ace outside into the cold. Yet whenever Ace told him to do it, he refused. Saying that he is not giving his hostage a chance to escape or whatever.

“Come on Agent, answer the question. Why were you stalking me?!” Herbert lifted Ace up, hoping that being a bit manhandled would scare them.

“If your method of torture is boredom, I would say, it’s working, yet, I still won’t tell you why.” With that Ace was dropped down from Herbert’s grip onto the ground. Ace couldn’t help but yawn. They were going at it for what? A few hours now? It surely must be night time.

“AAARGGHH, THAT DOES IT, I’M DONE PLAYING THESE GAMES!” Herbert threw a punch to the cave wall, giving it a nice crack. Thankfully Herbert couldn’t see the flash of fear in Ace’s face as he did that. The polar bear took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll get some food, then go to bed.” That was when Herbert and Klutzy took their leave. Letting Ace be all alone.

“Oh thank puffles, I thought he would never leave!” Ace mumbled to themselves. Time to find a way to escape. Ace tried to move their flippers free, yet it was no use, Herbert tied them too tight. Ace tried to stand up, yet they couldn’t even move their feet that much to make a clean getaway. So instead Ace tried to roll around, hoping that it would loosen the rope. Which didn’t do much but take the blanket off. Ace rolled back onto the blanket as Herbert came back in. Seeing Ace just lying down on the floor. He sighed.

“You know, I made you some food as well. If you want some, just sit up if you can.” Herbert walked over the penguin. Seeing the penguin sit up and look up at him.

“So, how am I going to eat? Are you going to feed me?” Ace really hope it’s not that.

“Nah, I won’t stoop myself that low.” Herbert put a bowl of soup and a cup of water down.

“Well, aren’t you so nice.” Ace rolled themselves onto their stomach. Ah, so they are just gonna need to use their face. This is great, just great. Well, Ace tried to eat the soup and drink the water, well most of what they could get from it. After Ace was done, Herbert took the bowl and cup and started laughing.

“You know Agent, if you give me some access codes, I will let you free.” Maybe being humiliated like that will open them up?

“Okay Herbert, you win.” Ace sat themselves up. “The access codes for the EPF mainframe is, pi, i, -i, and horizontal 8.” Ace couldn’t help but crack up as Herbert’s face went from awe to confusion to pure anger. If Ace died right then and there, to them it would be worth it.

“YOU, JUST YOU LITTLE!” Herbert shook with rage. Alright, he’s done, nope, he needs to rest. Tomorrow that penguin will tell him some info! They just have to. “Good night you brat!” Herbert walked out of the room, leaving Ace all alone again.

“Nighty, night, P-bear!” Ace stifled a yawn as they laid down on the blanket. Hopefully, the others are alright and aren’t too worried about Ace. They just don’t want anyone to get lost in this storm because of them. With that, Ace rested their eyes and fell asleep. Hoping that the storm subsides. **********************************************************************Trying to search in this storm at night was a bad idea. G gritted his beak as he tried to look around, to try to see the agents in front of him. This is terrible, they can’t even see a lousy ten feet out! He felt guilt, heck, he felt more than guilt at this moment, he felt that he was the sole reason as to why Ace was gone. Letting that penguin go out in a storm like this?! What was he thinking? Apparently, something had to make sense, since Dot approved of letting them go out in this weather as well. But still, this doesn’t take the burden off of him in the slightest. G snapped out of it as his name was called out.

“G! I can’t see in this weather! The storm is too much!” Rookie called out.

“I know Rookie, I think we have to cancel this search party for tonight.” G sighed. He doesn’t want to cancel the search party, but they have to. This weather was too much for the group.

“Why? Jet can’t try to fly out?” Dot quipped up. She really needs to find Ace, she feels terrible that she and G allowed them to go out in this storm. Heck, Ace even asked them if they were sure about it since the storm was going on when Ace was informed about their mission! Just, this is just great. If The Director doesn’t chew their heads off, then the guilt will from this mess up.

“Negative Dot, this weather is too much for me to fly out.” Jet looked around and frowned.

“Are you sure you can’t try?” Dot just, she really needs to get something going, she just can’t leave an agent missing on the field.

“Dot, I would love to flip this island upside down to find Ace, I really would, but I rather not be putting myself in danger, which will cause for two missing agents.” Jet just couldn’t help but to spat that lasts part out at her. Sure, Ace going MIA is terrible, but in this weather? Who knows how long Ace could survive this, and Jet really would love to flip this whole place down to find them, yet he can’t. Which just makes it even worse. Since now not only are they down an agent, but they can’t do a single thing about it. Hopefully the storm subsides in the morning, but for now, it’s best for them all the retreat.

“He’s right…we shouldn’t be putting any more agents in a position that can put them in danger.” G added.

“Then, what should we do?” Dot looked at the three guys. This feeling of helplessness sinking into her, a feeling she hates.

“Well…what would Ace want us to do?…” Rookie mumbled. He just, he woke up to hear that Ace was missing and scrambled to HQ as soon as he could. He wants to find Ace, yet in this weather, this late? He didn’t even think he would be able to get this far out without freezing. He pulled himself closer to Jet, grabbing one of his flippers and letting it wrap around him. Hoping that would keep him a bit warm, as well to comfort his worries.

“…they would want us to turn back and return when the storm stops…” Jet mumbled.

The rest of the group looked at each other. Should they just go?

“Fine, tomorrow once the storm lightens up, we’ll go and search for Ace. For now, we’ll go back to bed. Everyone come back to HQ at around 8 am or earlier. The weather report says the storm will be gone by then.” Dot announced.

With a group of nods and okays, the group left. **********************************************************************Quickly enough to return in the morning. This time, not only do they have the regular group, but a few more agents and PH as well. Hoping the puffles could find something. G waddled around with Rookie, hoping that the two of them could find something that would shine a light where Ace was gone. The silence though was killing him. He just doesn’t know what to say. “So…um, I am so sorry that we woke you and Jet up last night about Ace being missing…eheh. I hope we didn’t cause too much trouble for you guys.”

“It’s fine G, we were going to find out that Ace was gone sooner or later…might as well have been then.” Rookie looked down. He hates this feeling he has. Just, one of their Waddle Squad buddies being gone. Especially finding out they went missing during that storm? “Do you think, that Ace will be alright? They know basic survival, but do you think they’ll be fine?”

“I…I don’t know Rookie. Hopefully, they’ll be fine, but with this weather, who knows.” G really wants to assure Rookie that all will be alright, heck, he even wants to tell himself that. Yet he knows that he can’t since setting high hopes will only get them hurt in the end. “If anything, Herbert could’ve gotten to…” G stopped as he saw Rookie run up ahead of him. “Rookie? Where are you going?! Rookie!” G chased him and came to a quick stop right behind the green agent. “O-oh no…”

A trail of blood led down to a river was what they found. Rookie stood in front of it in shock. Just seeing this all was too much for him. He just wants to go home, he just wants to go home and to get a call from Ace that they should hang out today, and that whatever was happening now was just a bad dream. Yet this wasn’t make believe, this was a true nightmare, one that was as true as Operation Black Out. Did Ace feel this way when he and the others went missing? It has to be, this feeling of regret and worries bottled up inside of him felt too much to hold. Yet he has to stay strong, the green agent turned to G, his face as solemn as ever. “I-I think we need PH and the others over here now…”

G nodded and got them over there, leading into an investigation throughout the river. Underwater puffles swimming through, hoping to find a body if one was deposited into there. “Did you guys find anything?” G asked as the puffles finished their investigation.

“They found something, not a body, but something alright.” PH replied to G. These types of investigations always bring down the mood of everyone, including PH. The idea of an agent going missing and might be, that, is something that no one wants to imagine. She handed G a jacket that was soaked, as well with some blood stains. “Was this theirs?”

“…” G held the jacket. They remember Ace coming in with it when they got the mission. It was theirs alright, and now they don’t have it. “Yes, this was their jacket PH. Do you think they drowned?”

“I have no idea, we found nobody, they could’ve had that slip off of them as they went who knows where, or it fell off of them as they were eaten by some sea vermin.” PH looked away. “We sent some puffles out to sniff out the area, but they lost the scent before we could find another clue G. If we were to start looking from around here, it might take us a long time.”

“So, you’re saying we should stop looking?” G looked at her in disbelief. Stop looking for one of their own? This early? That’s ridiculous! That’s, that’s. Tragic and might need to be done.

“Well…I say we try for another day or so, if anything, they could’ve been captured by Herbert if they didn’t drown. But by the looks of it…” PH looked away.

“I understand…thank you PH, I’ll contact The Director.” G waddled back, holding the jacket close to him. He just, he just can’t believe this is happening. One of his agents, gone, no trace of them at all. If Jet and Dot don’t find a clue, this investigation might have to go into missing penguins, and then, it might just become a cold case. G shuddered at the thought of that. One of his agents, one of the few that was so close with everyone on the team, just being gone? No, this isn’t happening, it isn’t real. Ace is fine! They’re smart, they can survive! G waddled to Rookie, holding the jacket towards them.

“Did they find Ace!?” Rookie looked and saw that there was nobody, living or, well, unconscious? He looked down to see Ace’s jacket. “That’s their jacket! So they must be close right?!” Rookie took it from G without hesitation, feeling how soaked it is. Going through the pockets, hoping to find something that will give them a lead.

“No, they didn’t Rookie. In fact, we might just be searching for another day or so before it goes into missing penguins.”

“But?! We can find Ace! They’re here! They have to be somewhere around here! They even, they even!” Rookie took out Ace’s phone, one that is soaked and broken They can’t even call Ace, they knew they couldn’t before, but now they know why. “G…Ace isn’t fine…are they?” Rookie looked up at G, just, feeling broken.

“Probably not…” G held up his flippers, he knows that Rookie is just, heck, they all are overwhelmed and out of it by this. Rookie hugged G, a bit too tight for the blue penguin, but with what’s going on, it doesn’t matter to him that much. G gently patted the back of the agent.

“They’re probably, probably dead or something by now, and we can’t even find them.” Tears streamed down Rookie’s face. He just, he just can’t believe it. Ace is really gone. He should’ve joined Ace in that mission, he should’ve talked to them before about it or something. He knew he didn’t know until now, but still, he wishes that he did.

“Hey, hey, Ace isn’t dead, they might be alive still! We just have to find them.” Jetpack noises filled the air. G looked up. Seeing Dot and Jet coming back from their search. Hopefully, they found something.

“Oh my goodness! Jet!” Rookie lets go of G as he ran over to the red penguin, latching onto him as he cried into his shoulder.

“…Did you guys find Ace?…” Jet could only ask that question. If Rookie was this upset, then there must be a reason. One that he can’t fathom to hear. “No! Even worse! We found a blood trail, and, and there is nothing else! Just their jacket with their phone! Did you guys find anything?” The green penguin looked between Jet and Dot, hoping that they found something.

“Negative Rookie. We searched everywhere in the sky, and found nothing.” Dot sighed. This is looking bleak, in fact, it seems that Ace is truly gone from their sights. Unless some miracle happens, like Herbert contacting them and announcing their newly held hostage. Yet knowing Herbert, he wouldn’t even dare to step outside in this cold, much less the snow storm that happened last night.

“So what are our orders for now?” Jet looked at Dot and G, hoping that maybe they have something to say.

“Well, we will look until tonight, or until another storm picks up and we will do another search tomorrow morning as well.” G announced.

Dot nodded. She didn’t have anything else to add. Sure, they will be doing some other missions here and there, but right now. This is their number one priority, making sure that one of their agents come back safely. Safe and sound, like they all should when they return from a mission. Dot hopes that Ace is okay. **********************************************************************Ace isn’t okay, in fact, they wish they were dead. It has been a whole day of Herbert trying to get information out of them, yet again. This time, Herbert decided to take the “torture by boredom” quite literally. Oh how much Ace hates their sassy beak sometimes.

“And that was when I discovered, I was in fact, a vegetarian. Any questions that you may have Agent?” Herbert looked down at Ace and smiled. Oh, how much fun he’s been having! To have someone to listen to your life story! Even if it does bore them to death, it’s a way for him to hope he can get some valuable information!

“Yes, I do have one question, Herbert. Can you just please put me out of my misery now? I know you hate me, but doing this? I feel like we are violating some sort of war crime.” Ace was so tired of this, just so very tired. They were just looking around all day trying to find something to break free with and found it. That object is a very sharp end of an anchor that Herbert somehow got. The only problem is that Ace has to wait until Herbert leaves the room, which he hasn’t done at all, well for an extended period of time.

“Oh! So rude of you Agent! Has anyone ever taught you some manners? Or must I tell you the story of how I learned to be an upstanding polar bear?”

“I think you would need to hear that story again as well Herbert since you slouch all the time.” They quipped up. Despite feeling half brain dead, they still got the sass.

“YOU-” Before Herbert could continue any further, a clock bell rang, signaling that it was time for Herbert to hit the hay. “Don’t think this isn’t over yet! Tomorrow Agent, I will get you to talk!”

“Mmhmm and polar bears all over the world will fly to Club Penguin to have the biggest shindig! Good night!” Ace watched as Klutzy and Herbert took their leave. Letting Ace be all alone in the small room. Ace waited for what felt like hours, they just need to make sure that Herbert is asleep and not in some in-between state that he could be easily awakened from. After that, Ace slowly propelled themselves towards the anchor. Trying to get the rope entangled to the sharp edge, hoping that it will rip the rope apart. Which it did, as well as cutting them up a little. Oh well, they’re free now at least! After being freed loose from their entrapment, Ace grabbed the rope and a grappling hook that they saw scattered about before. Tying the two together, hoping this will come in handy. As Ace waddled out of the room, they grabbed the blanket that they have been using these past few days as well. Sure, it’s too small and flimsy to really protect them from the cold, but it’s better than nothing. Ace walked into the room that Herbert was sleeping in, him laying on some cushioned chair. Well, now they can search around for any plans that Herbert was thinking of doing. As quietly as they could, Ace began looking around, not realizing a small crab that was still awake.

“Clickity click click.” Klutzy clicked. Letting their presence be known.

“Oh, um, hi Klutzy. Uhh, go back to sleep little buddy, old pal?” Ace whispered to the little crustacean. Crud, oh crud, this is bad, real bad. Without any real forethought, Ace grabbed whatever blueprints they could and ran out of the cave as fast as they could. Not realizing that one of the blueprints was on a board, making it fall off and clatter onto the floor, waking Herbert.

“What the?…” Herbert looked to see his plans were gone, and that Klutzy was clicking about how their hostage is getting away. “WHAT?! YOU FOWL THING!” Herbert jumped out of his chair and began to chase Agent outside. “COME BACK HERE YOU FOOL!” Herbert bellowed out as he ditched using his two legs, and instead began to stampede on all fours.

“Oh, crud! Oh no, oh no…” Ace panted out as they tried their best to get away from Herbert. Forgetting that typically polar bears will use all of their fours to chase their prey. Whether it was for eating or to toy with, it doesn’t matter to them, Ace is now his prey. Ace tried to weave through the trees, yet in this nightly snow storm, it was so hard to see, much less to move in. Ace stopped as they were on a ledge of some sort of cliff. Standing there dumbfounded at what to do. They couldn’t jump? Could they? It was that or Herbert will get them, and in this cold, it was hard to even think about getting lost in this weather, yet, Ace just can’t stand being captured. “Oh, you little fool, just give me my plans back and I will make sure that I won’t hurt you, much.” Herbert stood back on his two legs, panting. What he didn’t expect was for Ace to jump. “You idiot!” Herbert tried to grab Ace, but instead, all he did was swipe them on their side as they went tumbling down. Herbert looked at his claw, now red from the action he had done. He sighed as he watched the penguin tumble further away from him. He could either chase them and get lost in this cold weather, or just call it a lost and head back. He looked back at their hideout and back to where Ace probably fell down to. “Good luck Agent! Hopefully, the other Elite Penguin Fools won’t find your body frozen to death!” With that comment, he headed back. It’s out of his control now.

Ace didn’t know what possessed them to jump, but they did and now they regret it so much. Falling and falling into who knows where, as Ace’s body stopped falling, they could only just lay there for a moment. Trying to collect their thoughts with what just happened. Trying to remember what they still have after that tumble. They still have the blueprints and the blanket, yet the grappling hook was gone. As Ace tried to pull themselves up, they felt excruciating pain in their right flipper. Looking at it, Ace realized that it was broken, and goodness, now everything hurts. Have they been swiped at again by Herbert? Probably, Ace remembers seeing some red as they were falling down. Ace decided it would be best to lay down for a while, just enough of time to collect their thoughts. Yet, what if they pass out? They would be outside in this cold weather, and that isn’t good. With fear of the weather being too much, Ace got up and tried their best to keep waddling on. Whatever they have to do is to find their way home, they just can’t stay here in this weather.

“I’m such an idiot…” Ace shivered. What a fool! What an idiot! They are just going to die here and then the others are going to see what a silly and stupid penguin Ace was. No, no, they’ll be fine, just gotta keep moving. Ace stopped for a moment as they looked up to the sky, seeing that it was still night. Yet they see smoke coming up, meaning that they are close to civilization. Ace began to run towards the smoke, hoping that, someone is there to help them. What Ace didn’t realize, was that they were running straight into a river. Plummeting into the cold water, it took Ace all of their might to get out of it. Throwing themselves onto dry land, Ace felt all of their energy just being sapped away from them. Their body trembling, trying to keep themselves warm from this frigid weather. They couldn’t help but let all of the frustrations of being captured, escaping and this pain to be let out through a scream for help. Just the pain of it all was too much for them to bare. They don’t care if they will attract Herbert or whatever enemy, they would rather have someone than to be alone like this.

“Ace?! Is that you?” Dot ran towards the source of the noise. She just came out here to search for Ace, and now she heard a scream for help? Maybe it’s them! It has to be! “Oh my goodness, Ace! It really is you! Thank puffles!” She ran towards her friend who seems to be soaked to the bone. Trying to get them to lay on their back, they shouldn’t be moving or anything. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just my right flipper is broken, I just want to go inside Dot, I can stand Dot.” Ace tried to stand up by themselves, yet their body didn’t feel like cooperating, and instead, they just fell back. Thankfully, Dot was able to grab them before they fell, gently putting them on the ground.

“Ace, just relax, we’ll get some help, you shouldn’t be moving.” Dot wrapped her jacket around the penguin. How long were they even out here for? She pulled out her phone and called the others. Hopefully, they’ll come soon. ��But Dot, I can, I can…” Ace felt nothing more but pure exhaustion. With this whole night of them trying to survive, and the comfort of being found. Ace just let their tired body win this, and promptly pass out. **********************************************************************“Ace, wakey wakey…” A voice called out to Ace. Giving them a good poke to the head.

“Rookie, let them rest.” Another voice scolded the other.

“Sorry Jet…” Rookie apologized.

Ace couldn’t help but open their eyes, they have already been interrupted from their sleep. As they looked around, they noticed that the others were in the room with them. Sitting around in some solemn silence. Well except Rookie, who was right in their face poking them. Rookie’s eyes went wide as they saw that Ace woke up.

“Ace! You’re awake now!” Rookie gave the penguin a big hug, yet still being careful not to hurt their broken flipper.

“Yeah, guess so…” Ace at first froze from the sudden hug but then sunk into the embrace. “…how long was I out?” They looked at the others, seeing that some of them got up from their seats.

“About a few hours, give or take. You freaked Dot out by your sudden pass out.” Jet added.

“Well, who wouldn’t be? One minute this penguin was telling me they’re fine and they can walk, the next, they weren’t responsive!” Dot waddled up to Ace and joined in on the hug. Then the others did, making it one big group hug. After a while, they all pulled apart. Just being so relieved that Ace was found.

“So what happened Ace?” G asked. Part for his own curiosity and the rest being for HQ, they are all going to be doing a lot of paperwork this week.

“Oh, well at first I found Herbert, but he saw me, so I was chased, I think I fell or something, so I got knocked out, and woke up in his lair captured.” Ace motioned to their bandaged up wound on their side. “Apparently Herbert bandaged me up and kept me as a hostage for those two days.”

“At least you weren’t outside in the cold then.” Jet added. Sure, being captured sucks, but it’s better than freezing to death.

“Yeah, better than that.” Ace continued. “Then last night I escaped, was chased again, this time though I lost Herbert, well he stopped chasing me I believe, and fell into the river that Dot was by and here we are now.”

“Why didn’t you just stay with Herbert if the weather was so bad out?” Rookie asked.

“I rather not stay in his clutches for long, as well that escaping in this weather made it easier for me to lose him.” Ace answered.

The group looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Sure, it wasn’t the most ideal escape, but it’s better than staying in Herbert’s clutches for too long.

“Also, you had some blueprints…” G held them up, now dried up from being in the river. “I’m guessing you got these from Herbert?”

“Yeah, I thought that before I left, I would do a quick search around and grab what I can.” Ace began to go under their covers, sleepiness coming back to them. “Why? Did I get something useless?”

“No, in fact, you got some of his plans that he probably would’ve used after the winter months. Good job Agent!” G smirked. Even from this whole mess, they were able to come out on top of this.

“We should probably be going…” Jet announced. Looking at the clock on the wall.

“Okay then, see you guys tomorrow at HQ then!” Ace joked as they watched the others leave.

“Good one Ace, get some rest, and we’ll try to see you tomorrow.” Dot waved goodbye.

As the door shut closed, Ace sighed. Now they are alone and safe. Ace tried to make themselves as comfortable as they could be with a broken flipper and looked outside of their hospital window. Seeing that a new storm rages on. Ace closed their eyes, finally getting some well-deserved rest from this whole ordeal that has finally ended.

[thelookingglassalice]

The Name Game/Being Awesome At Sex

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Captain America x Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x F/Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2114

Summary: Coffee shop meet-cute.

A/N:  This is one of my fics for @emilyevanston ‘s Cards Against Humanity Writing Challenge .  

“Why are you two laughing…are you screwing up the names again? I almost got slapped last week!” You hissed at Adam and Kyle. You were busy cleaning up a massive spill on one of the tables. A large group had come in and ordered with your co-workers. The morons were making the drinks and laughing like crazy. You tossed the dishrag into the sink and went to the pick-up counter. The guys had retreated into the kitchen, leaving you to dole out the drinks. “Fuck.” You muttered under your breath as you saw the names. You took a deep breath and got started. The group looked tired, maybe they would just ignore the game.

“Um, black coffee for…Sore?” A large blonde man approached the counter. “Ah, you must be foreign to this tongue. It is pronounced Thor. Thank you coffee woman.” “You’re welcome. Um, mocha frappe with extra syrup on bottom and on top for…Hot?” “Hm, I thought the guy was flirting with me. Let him know I’m flattered but I like him more as a friend.” A lanky guy with a smirk took the drink. “Okay, enjoy the sugar crash later.” He gave you a thumbs up and you grabbed the next one. “Oh come on, there is no way I’m saying that. Who had the triple shot espresso?” A cute blonde man yawned and approached the counter. “It’s Clint, why, what did they write?” “Let’s just say spacing is everything.” You grumbled as you scribbled out the name. “Oh.” The realization hit him and he shook his head, smirking. “Sorry. Um, dark roast drip for ‘ T.C. I’m not even going to try’? That’s just lazy.” A handsome man with a regal air approached. “Close enough. Thank you.” He raised the cup to you as he passed. “Welcome. Cappuccinos for…Some and Wanna. Some Wanna?” “That is definitely our team name on the next mission.” A youngish girl with dark hair came up with a guy who had a mischievous smile on his face. “Hell yeah. Everybody wants Some Wanna. Better than Witch and Wings like Tony said.” “Decaf latte for Brain? That one isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the guy came up. “I take it as a compliment.” He looked tired and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Sounds like you needed one. Vanilla latte for Rosie?” “Not very far off. But I want to know what they put on my friend’s. He had a macchiato? Could you make sure whatever the first name is the last name is Stank?” “That’s actually what they have. Mister Stank, to be specific.” “Thanks so much, Rosie.” A very famous businessman came up and clapped his friend’s shoulder. You were down to three. “Americanos for Stove and Brokee.” “That’s your new nickname. Stove, because you’re just that hot.” Two men came up and smiled. One had shaggy dark hair the other was blonde. “And you have no money, so Brokee fits like a glove.” The blonde ruffled the dark-haired one’s hair. “Well, at least your guy is hot. So you’re rich in that sense.” You smiled. They both grinned at you. “Thanks, you should come out with us sometime.” Dark haired one cocked an eyebrow. “Buck, it’s awkward when you hit on girls for both of us.” You grab Steve’s cup before he can get it and write your name and number on it. “Actually, I think I’d like to get you to know your real names.” You tilt your head and reach for the last cup. “Cinnamon latte for Natalia?” “Oh shit.” “Code black!” “Someone grab her!” A redhead vaulted the counter and charged past you into the kitchen. Stove and Brokee stood in front of you. You heard your co-workers scream. “WHO SENT YOU?!” The redhead demanded. Clint jumped the counter to get her while everyone else calmly sipped their drinks. “Is she going to kill them?” You asked Stove and Brokee. “Because that’s a lot of extra work for me.” Stove took a piece of paper from Mr. Stark and handed it to you. It was a blank check. “This should cover the damages. We’ll call you.”

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

“I feel so out of place here.”

“You know that 70% of the people here are somehow connected to an elite superhero team, right?” Steve smirked as he took your coat.

“That doesn’t help me.” You roll your eyes and look around the room.

A few weeks prior you had met the Avengers when they came in for coffee at your cafe and your co-workers had purposely messed up their names. Bucky had hit on you for himself and Steve and you had given him your number. The three of you formed an easy friendship. They enjoyed having someone ‘normal’ to be around. You enjoyed hearing about their lives, past, and present.

“Aw, you’ll be fine. Just relax.” Steve straightened your necklace.

Those innocent touches were not unusual from him or Bucky. There was a strange undercurrent in your relationship. It was like you were dating them...and they were with one another. Sort of a triad instead of a couple. No one had mentioned it and it had never gotten past innocent outings and flirtation. But this was your first time attending one of the Avenger Compound parties.

“Where’s Bucky?” You frowned.

“He...generally hates these things. Too many people in an enclosed space. He’s looking for Thor.” Steve and you joined the people milling around. You recognized some of the people from your visits to the compound to pick the guys up.

“Oh.” You knew some of what Bucky had been through. But neither man really wanted to subject you to all of it. “Why Thor?”

“Thor has access to certain refreshments that are suited to the enhanced. Buck will be fine, as long as he stops at ‘comfortable’.” Steve shook his head.

The party went into the early hours of the next day. The majority of the people who didn’t live at the compound had left. Tony and Pepper were having a discussion with Bruce and Jane. Maria was sitting with Nat and Clint showing them something on her phone. Scott, Thor, Sam, and Wanda were explaining something to Vision as you and Steve looked on.  Rhodey, Bucky, and T’ Challa were messing with a hologram and asking Friday questions.

“So are orgies the normal Saturday rituals at your place of fraternity?” Thor asked you.

“Aren’t students concerned about how casual sex may negatively impact your studies?” Vision leaned in towards you.

“Uh, what did I miss? How did this come up?” You tilted your head.

“VIS! I was talking about taking some classes. I mentioned you were getting your master’s. We started to discuss frats and sororities and…” Wanda gestured, confused as you were.

“Oh..kay. Well, I’m busy with school and I help out at the coffee shop so I don’t have time for...orgies or casual sex.” You shrug.

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.” A voice muttered in your ear, right behind you.

“Shit!” You turned and found a very drunk Bucky almost tilted over the back of the couch between you and Steve.

“Sorry, he’s stealthy even when plastered. Come on Pal.” Steve got up and pulled one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder.

“Here, I’ll help.” The room was still chuckling at your startled exclamation. You got up and slung Bucky’s metal arm over your neck. Your other arm wrapped around his waist above Steve’s. Bucky was humming some song, muttering the words ‘star’ and ‘spangled’.

Steve took most of the weight but you were looking for a reason to run from your embarrassment. Steve led you down a long hall and into a large bedroom with vintage minimalist decor.

“Hi there, nice to meetcha.” Bucky turned his face into Steve’s chest and motorboated his pecs.

“Okay, that makes up for my mortification out there.” You snort laugh.

“He is stealthy and friendly when drunk. That’s why I don’t mind it. Let’s him relax and get in touch with the real Bucky. Get outta there.” Steve ruffled Bucky’s hair and gazed at him with a small smile. Bucky laughed and in a flash, he had detangled himself from Steve and flumped onto the bed. Taking you down with him.

“Oof!” You grunted as you hit the mattress.

“Shit!” Steve pulled Bucky’s metal arm off your chest and grabbed both of your hands to pull you up.

“Are you okay? The arm isn’t heavy but sometimes he grips by accident.” Steve led you to a couch and sat you down. He looked over you.

“I’m not as fragile as I look, I’m fine.” You straightened your dress and leaned back into the couch.

“How was it? The party and...everything?” Steve asked as he turned on a lamp and removed Bucky’s shoes before coming to sit with you.

“It was nice. More fun than I thought it would be. I worried everyone would be wondering what the hell I was doing here. But they were all nice.” You smiled.

“Good. Do you have class this week?”

“No, I’m pretty much done until graduation. I need to start looking for a job, though. Why?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to go with us to, uh, we got a cabin...upstate. Bucky and I were gonna go and get away for a few days.” Steve was more flustered than you thought a person could be.

“Are you asking me to go away with you two for a romantic weekend?” You snickered. His eyes went wide.

“No! Not as a...just a...friend...thing.” He looked over to the bed like he was wishing for Bucky to wake up and help him.

“Oh come on Stevie, just show her how awesome you are at sex. Or both of you get over here and go to sleep. Your yapping is giving me a headache.” Bucky’s voice was muffled. “I’d like to be involved if there is being awesome at sex, though.”

“I thought you were asleep.” Steve sighed and went to the bed, sitting next to Bucky.

“Momentarily passed out. I thought we were gonna wait to ask her together.” Bucky had yet to remove his face from the pillow. You moved forward and stood in front of Steve.

“Time constraints and too much mead forced my hand to go it alone.” Steve grinned up at you.

“Very brave, Stevie. Considering you’ve been driving yourself bat shit crazy over this. ‘How does this work? I mean, I know how it works.’” Bucky chuckled into the pillow and groped blindly behind him to pat Steve’s thigh. “You see, the reason he is awesome at sex is that he’s such a good guy. Very giving and-”

“Come on, man. And I meant socially not physically, ya jerk.” Steve shoved Bucky’s ass over.

“So I was reading this correctly. I thought I was projecting my fantasy life. So, Steve, you’re very giving and...what else? What about Bucky?” You shoved Bucky further to the other side of the bed and he groaned as he rolled to his back. You knelt on the bed and chewed on the inside of your cheek as you thought.

“My stamina is legendary, I can go for hours, my arm never gets tired.” Bucky ticked things off on his fingers. “And Steve goes into everything with maximum effort. I mean, he doesn’t stop until your voice is gone-”

“This is going better than expected.” Steve interrupted and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re telling me.” You yawned and Bucky propped himself up on his elbows. “But we may need to set some ground rules.

“Fine, but for the love of god can it wait until I don’t have a massive hangover incoming?” His eyes were half-lidded, his dark hair coming out of the elastic holding it.

“Poor baby.” Steve frowned and stood up. Bucky fell back into the pillows and grabbed your hand. He pulled you down so your head was on his shoulder.

“Hmm.” You hummed.

“I better get you...home.” Steve turned and saw you curled up. “Or not. You both sleeping in your party clothes?”

“Good point.” You sat up and unzipped your dress, wriggling it up and over your head.

“If one of you wants to undress me, have at it.” Bucky’s eyes were closed again.

“Jerk.” Steve undressed down to his tank top and shorts then climbed in behind you after flicking off the lights.

“Punk,” Bucky muttered.

Steve put his hand by Bucky’s on your hip and you turned your head.

“You guys are adorable.” You murmured. You felt Steve’s lips tilt into a smile on your temple.

[id0l-atry]

Backyard and patio steamers are ideal for camping outside the house, sunlight tanning on by the pool or just comforting on in your personal backyard garden. Meanwhile, the ANC government has rapidly militarized the basic safety forces and the creeping stranglehold of securocrats within just the state And the failure of this outfit could not avert the disaster of Marikana and other mines and other personal and government sectors that are at the moment threatening the economy of the of the country.

The ANC has been in power considering that the conclusion of apartheid in 1994 is beneath stress to demonstrate it can work far more promptly to improve the lives of black South Africans, numerous of whom continue to live in poverty irrespective of economic progress and greater political flexibility and stability. Incorporating those people facts in a collective Afrocentric cultural ideology will facilitate amid Blacks a earth perspective that bargains a realistic will patio furniture scratch trex decking interpretation of African Individuals in terms of their unique cultural heritage and role in American society. Costway by means of Rakuten bargains the Costway 4-Piece Rattan Outdoor Furniture Set for $175.99. Coupon code "HOME20" cuts that to $a hundred and forty.79. With free should you oil teak outdoor furniture delivery, that's $35 beneath our mention from six days back and the lowest price we've noticed. DECON styles all Weather Wicker Rattan Teakwood Furniture are environmentally helpful made, all resources are recyclable, really prolonged lasting and minimal maintenance DECON promotions a lot of wicker Rattan Teakwood collections that are Modern Modern day Traditional which is Spectacular and Subtle. It is really the human desire story,the community motion of the poor scrapping (uku-Gereza - in Township earthy lingua franca usually means to hustle) it out with the prosperous for the meagre assets, of which the African elite has an upper hand; collaborationist and predatory in its stance.

Musicians, actors, writers, pundits of all stripes, the constant blurting sounds of the 'Vuvuzela', folks , in the bitterly cold South Africa of June(Winter season Year), are up and about in the Townships; singing, blowing the Vuvuzelas, relocating up and down in their imported Europeans and American together with Japanese and other cars; flags fluttering on their auto mirrors; young children, overly energized and unbridled in their enthusiasm; some folks have prepared their households to receive Entire world Cup Followers. In his Communist Manifesto,” Karl Marx wrote: Each and every action in the advancement of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that classification … The executive of the modern-day state is but a committee for managing the affairs of the bourgeoisie.” Below Marx is referring to the capability of the bourgeois to translate economic electrical power into state electrical power, as a result lowering our governments to mere professionals acting in the pursuits of capital and not the people.

[thegymterdotnet]

Deconstructing the MAG Code of Points

Deconstructing the MAG Code of Points

We’re officially in a new quad, and as always, that means forgetting everything you thought you knew about the code of points and spending the next four years trying to remember everything new, only to have to start all over again in 2021. As we gear up for Winter Cup and American Cup leading into the elite season, we’ve been prepping an event-by-event breakdown for you, as well as a general look…

[gymnasticscoaching]

2020 Men's Code of Points

2020 Men’s Code of Points

Kensley Behel: We’re officially in a new quad, and as always, that means forgetting everything you thought you knew about the code of points and spending the next four years trying to remember everything new, only to have to start all over again in 2021. As we gear up for Winter Cup and American Cup leading into the elite season, we’ve been prepping an event-by-event breakdown for you, as well as…

[whitefoxed]

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winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:​

The soldier had put the target down as he had been ordered. After that, his handlers had ordered him into the house to search. Generally, the soldier was not used on retrieval missions. However, this one had included an elimination components and he had been on countless missions of that type. While the HYDRA agents searched the residence, the asset had been instructed to remain outside, rifle at the ready in case the target had been able to call for backup before his untimely death.

Nothing had come and the soldier was brought back to the base. His commander had been injured during the initial infiltration of the target’s property and had to be taken to the medical wing. This left the soldier to report the particulars of the mission alone, a rarity. Finding his superior was simple, but the soldier waited for several moments before speaking. He could not risk being bad and subsequently punished after just returning.

“Sir,” he stated, voice rough from disuse, “the mission is complete.”

Lise had been the one to tend to the team commander’s injuries before having him sent back first for further treatment, so he knew there was at least one injured. Listening to the flitting reports on the intercom in his ear, he watched their target site from a distance, scanning the wooded area for any unusual movement. It was best if the team was notified earlier if there were to be any intruders now that they were mostly inside.

Only after the mission was over and the team returned safe, did tension ease from his shoulders. He was bent leaning over a computer table and verifying again with complete equipment the authenticity of the retrieved item - a data bank key - handed over by one of the team’s agent when the asset came over, and he nodded to him so he could speak. “Any abnormalities during mission?” He asked, since he was not present at the site. The computer was still going through its information access process.

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier was silent while he watched his commander looking over the computer. There was no reason for him to interrupt. Already, so many times, he had been punished for speaking without waiting. The fact that this happened if he spoke too soon or too later was not important. Contradictions in HYDRA’s rules or orders were ignored in favor of the most recent decision. He could only do that in an attempt to please those who owned him.

He have a single, stiff nod. “The target had employed six more mercenaries than originally stated in the intelligence documents given. Each was equipped with one Boker Kalashnikov knife, one SOG Spec Elite II knife, and two Baretta M9 handguns. Elimination of the extra security was prioritized to minimize the chance of possible resistance from the target or obstacles during extraction.”

Six more guards. Lise frowned, considering the lapse in intel. At least the weaponry was on point, and he prepared the right equipment in return for the asset and the team against them. As for the decision taken during mission, the reason was sufficient to explain the delay from their expected deadline. “What happened to the team leader?” He proceeded to ask, shifting his gaze from the soldier to the computer screen. Access granted.

A few more keystrokes to check for the presence of the information Hydra wanted - as well as look them through himself - the young handler did not bother hiding what he saw from the asset. It wasn’t that the asset’s helplessness in that matter was ingrained in him like it was to the other agents and technicians, but rather he did not mind nor saw the need to, if it could be useful to the soldier somehow. Not that it was much, being complicated data on how to access SHIELD and other governmental communications and data accounts.

Removing the key and sending a text to the director, Lise kept the item on himself before recalling the soldier’s dry voice earlier. Heading to another table where a jug of water and some glasses were available, he poured one and brought it back, holding it out to the asset. “Drink it.”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

“The team leader was injured during collection,” the soldier replied without hesitation. He had no reason to hide anything and could not lie to someone in authority over him. The asset was incapable of lies unless ordered. His issue, however, was the gaps in his memory that sometimes formed even without the chair. He willed himself to remember everything, but it was difficult at times. Why? He had not been commanded to forget mission details. Thankfully, this time he was able to recall everything.

“While STRIKE secured the building, the leader attempted to open one of the target’s safes. This was set to explode should the incorrect combination be entered. A simple shrapnel bomb was located on the inside of the door.” The soldier had not been present for the explosion itself, but had heard it and gone to investigate. Piecing together what had happened while performing basic first aid had not been difficult even for an attack dog.

His eyes slid over to the computer, but soon refocused on his commander. If he was meant to know the information being presented, he would be told to read it. Until then, he was being bad by assuming he was authorized to look. Instead of continuing to look at the screen, his gaze followed his commander and then settled on the glass. Immediately, he took it and began to drink. Whether it had been water or acid, he would have done the same, without hesitation.

Now that was another issue with this mission too, with the mistake on the combination code. That makes it two strikes against their intelligence officers. It was something he’d have to report up later. Lise watched the soldier drink while deciding between delivering the key and an incomplete report, or bringing the asset to dress down first and question the team leader for a full report. Mildly concerned he would choke himself drinking that fast, the handler watched with anxiety before breathing out an unconscious sigh of relief when the soldier was done.

He decided on the former, taking the empty glass from the soldier and putting it on the table. It hadn’t been long since he took on this position in STRIKE and with the winter soldier. His training to be a Handler was situated at the Dollhouse, and the Actives there were treated much better and kinder than could be said for the soldier. The difference was disturbing.

“Accompany me to the director’s office, soldier.” Lise said, gentler than how an order should have been given this time. It was easier for him to do so when they were alone. Leaving the office they were in, he made his way to the elevator.

On the way back he had checked if the soldier had any urgent injuries. There were seemingly none, and he did not think the director would appreciate having to wait for what they were sent to retrieve. Hydra would neither be forgiving to him or to the asset if he prioritised the soldier first. Still, he wanted to get the report over with so he could give a more thorough check, and settle the asset down in his cell room before having to give the team a debriefing, now that the other commander was down. If time allows, he could squeeze in questioning the leader before the debriefing too. Some time through his thinking, they had already reached the director’s office.

“Guard here.” He said to the soldier, glancing up at his face before knocking on the door and entering when Pierce answered.

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier continued to hold onto the cup until it was finished. He had obeyed. That meant he was good, correct? That meant he would not be punished? After a mission, he was exhausted and unable to do much. He was slower and, if he had been awake long enough, could not process information as quickly. Some commanders and handlers became incredibly angry. The soldier would always obey no matter how long it took him, always. That was his only purpose.

His hands left the glass the moment his commander’s touched it. Holding onto it longer would be bad. If his commander wanted it, he would get it. His eyes followed the glass for only a moment before they were back on the man again. Every muscle wanted to sit but the soldier would not allow himself to be weak. His body was not his own. He had no say in when it would be taken care of. A part of him wanted to speak, wanted to say something, anything, to his commander but the words died before they left his throat.

“Yes, sir,” he replied immediately, voice smoother after the long drink of water. “Thank you, sir.” That was what he should have said. Instantly, he should have shown his gratitude. His commander would be perfectly within his rights to punish the soldier for his incorrect behavior.

He followed in silence, navigating the hallways of the base from memory. HYDRA allowed certain useful pieces of information so he did not have to be trained each time he was removed from the ice. As they arrived, the asset nodded once, a stiff movement, and replied out loud in the affirmative. Turning, he stood at attention just outside of the door while he waited for his commander to return.

Unaware of all the thoughts the asset had, Lise delivered the key to the director and gave his report. Between the failure from their intelligence operators on the number of mercenaries to expect and the wrong code combination, as well as the single serious injury on the team leader, everything else about the mission went well. Or at least, if the director had any displeasure on how the mission was carried out, he did not vent on him. After all, his father was a colleague of the same status, albeit a different department.

Leaving the office fifteen minutes later, he found the soldier guarding stiffly by the door and nodded to him with approval. “Follow me.” He did not dare say more in front of Pierce’s office, for fear of slipping up instead of acting like how everyone else was to the asset.

This time they made their way to the asset’s ‘room’ - a cell with a thick metal door, a bunk and a set of sink and toilet. More a prison than anything, Lise thought. Both scanning and keying in the password to unlock the door, the door then released its catch with a flush of air from its vacuum seal and swung inward. “You can sit on the bed and disarm.” He finally said with a breath of relief, as he broke (safety) procedure and closed the door behind him. He didn’t mind the surveillance camera - it only recorded visuals. But here they can have some privacy at last and he didn’t have to pretend the soldier was a thing instead of a person. “Did you get any injury?”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier was an infinitely patient creature. He needed to be or he would have been punished. There had been days he had waited in the heat or cold for a target to arrive. The perfect shot would not come to the impatient. He did not listen to what his commander and the Secretary discussed. If he was meant to know, he would have been ordered to come inside. Speculation was not for him and he simply kept his gaze straight ahead. A few agents walked by and only his eyes tracked them as they moved past. They were not a threat and thus he did not attack.

When his commander returned, he silently followed him through the base. “Yes, sir.” The asset had memorized the layout upon being pulled from the tube, standard practice when he was to spent more than a forty-eight hours in one location, generally when many missions were scheduled together and the work involved in freezing and thawing him would be inefficient. He recognized the room. The soldier had been left there after being thawed but before his handler had come to take him for briefing. It was not a bad room, but then again, the asset had very little to compare it to. Most rooms he was kept in were laid out in a similar fashion.

Nodding, he moved toward the small bed and began to remove his weapons from himself. Two handguns were placed beside him and then a myriad of knives were taken form assorted sheaths around his tactical gear. Once he had divested himself of his weapons, he began taking apart the guns as was standard protocol. His own maintenance would wait until the other weapons were inspected. However, his commander’s question made him pause. Injuries sustained were not important for him unless they caused a critical malfunction. Still, he could not ignore a direct question from his commander. “A bullet wound on the side of the left lower quadrant. One attempted stab along the right shoulder. Metal plating of left arm damaged behind the elbow.”

Lise watched the soldier disarm, before casually taking the duffel bag he brought previously over to start inspecting and keeping the knives first in their portable holder in said bag. Then he heard the soldier’s reply as the guns were dismantled, frowning slightly at it. He had missed the bullet wound from his earlier inspection, though he didn’t ask back then - not infront of the STRIKE team. Quickly inspecting and putting the respective gun pieces in their cases (he could clean them later) he nodded to the other man. “Take off your vest so I can have a look at that wound.”

He would need to leave and bring back his medical kit, it wasn’t in this room. Speaking of which, he also needed his engineering tools and some spares for that arm. “Do you want painkillers for it?”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

His eyes followed his commander, moving down to the duffel while the man packed away his weapons. The soldier felt naked without them. He was a weapon himself and yet he also used the others as tools. They were part of him in a way that the asset could not explain. He was perfectly capable of fighting completely unarmed, even with his metal arm removed. There was no rational explanation for his feelings and he resolved to remove them from his thoughts. A weapon should not ‘feel’ anyway.

“Yes, sir,” he replied softly, never looking directly at his commander. Without hesitation or shame, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the wounds and the long, raised scar where flesh and metal were fused along his left shoulder. Blinking, he wasn’t sure how to answer. If he answered in the affirmative, he could be punished for being weak. If not, then he would endure more pain while the wound was dealt with. In the end, the soldier shook his head.

Lise caught the hesitation. As the winter soldier’s newly appointed Handler, he had read his files before, and had access to more than most of the usual handlers. It still took some getting used to being around the asset, even if he knew what the man had been through.

The handler hesitated too.

After a long pause, he bent down and started checking the bullet wound, and saw no exit wound. Which meant the bullet was still inside, though the bleeding had ceased due to the asset’s unique physicality. “Are you able to recognise me, not as your Handler, just me?” He spoke softly, back to where he knew the cameras were. “If you can, then when we are alone, you are allowed to tell me when you’re feeling weak.” He didn’t touch the wound, just assessed it as his mind started sorting through which medical equipment he could bring over for the minor surgery. Hydra did not allow full medical attention for the asset when it was not in critical condition - which was why he supposed they chose him as a handler. A studied medic and an engineer, he could fix most of the soldier’s physical problems on the go. “I will not punish you for it.”

Looking up from the wound to the soldier’s eyes, he repeated himself. “Now, do you want painkillers?”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

Seating himself half naked before his handler might have made a human nervous or at the very least concerned. However, the soldier only stared at the man and waited for further instructions. He needed to know what was expected of him. If he moved without permission, he was sure that he would be punished. Aside from that, the bullet still in his body could move and cause further damage to his organs.

“I know you, sir,” he replied, slightly unsure as to what his handler was asking him. The soldier was sure this man had authority over him and the human members of the mission team. Was there a difference between knowing someone as a handler and knowing them in another way? How else would he relate to a human? A weapon could only ever be subservient. The notion of being weak sent a wave of fear through him, but also caused an expression of near indignance to form on his face. The asset knew very well that he was not weak. If he was, HYDRA would have put him down long ago. He had seen agents be killed because they became too soft or desired to leave HYDRA. The solder would never give his masters cause to think such things of him.

And yet…this pain was not from a punishment. It hurt and he could not connect it to something he had done wrong. Finally, he nodded once. His handler was giving him permission to ‘want’ and he concluded that taking the medicine would be better.

The look on the asset’s face was… priceless? It was the first time Lise noticed such a lively… and human expression on the soldier. Then the reply brought a smile to Lise’s lips and he nodded. It wasn’t that the soldier admitted he was ‘weak’, or that it was the answer he wanted, but that he was genuinely relieved that the man could recognise him and tell him what he wanted. Even if he had to beat around the bush to get to this stage.

Lise wasn’t sure how much the wipe and training affected the soldier, since his training grounds were using much more advanced technology on less damaged agents, and he was new to this part of Hydra. He could only get to know the soldier slowly when they are in private.

“You can rest and wait for me to return.” He needed to bring the weapons out and come back with his kits. Taking the duffel bag, he looked back once more at the soldier before leaving the room, locking the door behind him.

A quarter of an hour later the handler returned, with the air-lock releasing before the door swung open. Entering, he close it behind him again before heading over, setting down the two heavy metal briefcases. “Here, take these pills first.” He brought a bottle of water from under his arm and a capsule container holding a mix of strong painkillers and prophylactic antibiotics just in case, handing them to the soldier before starting to set up his medical kit. The surgical instruments were neatly arranged upon opening its briefcase and he pulled out its folded stand so that it became a portable table beside him. Heading to the little sink, he washed his hands before pulling on gloves and a small white apron as well. Thankfully, the cell was also sterile.

“You can lay down when you’re ready.”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

His commander was smiling at him. The soldier knew this meant he was pleased, although he could not think of what he had done to cause such a feeling. He was most used to reprimand and anger from the people around him even if a certain failure was not his doing. Handlers enjoyed taking out their frustrations on him. Never did he resent HYDRA for it. They were always correct and if he was being punished, there was a reason. Perhaps that meant there was also a reason for his commander to smile.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, watching his commander go. As soon as the man was gone, the asset lay on the cot. He had been ordered to rest so he would. Sleep and rest were similar and yet the soldier knew he had not been given permission to sleep. He decided that ‘resting’ would involve the position of sleep but without unconsciousness. Closing his eyes, the soldier willed himself to clear his mind of the mission and just wait for his commander’s return. That was all he should be focused on. However, his brain wanted to think, wanted to go over the mission in his mind and work out what had gone wrong and what had gone correctly.

HYDRA allowed their weapon to think critically about missions, about tasks that they assigned him. That way, he could assist in the planning of operations. He was always efficient and effective. His plans worked because he was a machine and did not give consideration to comfort or times that humans would find difficult, such as extremely early in the morning. To the soldier, there was only success and the quickest path to the objective.

He sat up instantly when the door opened, unsure if he should stand in greeting. In the end, he remained seated as he had not been ordered to do anything else. The soldier could see the case and knew there would be medical supplies inside.

He stared at the pills then the water, going back and forth for several seconds before finally taking them. His commander was graciously allowing the pain to be dulled and the asset knew he should be thankful. At the command to lay down, he did just that, although his right arm began to tremble just slightly in fear of what was to come. In his experience, HYDRA’s doctors caused a great deal of pain.

The scent of fear seeped into the room. Lise blinked, before shifting his gaze to its source. Then it moved to the soldier’s shaking arm and frowned. After a breath, he continued preparing the local anaesthetic before sitting by the soldier to tend to him. Ah yes, aside from the sterility of the room, everything else was inappropriate for surgery, including the height of this bed. Gently cleaning around the wound with an alcohol swab, he started administering the injections around the entrance area. At least STRIKE had anaesthetic…

Then he waited for the medication to work.

“Do you feel pain here?” He asked, pressing lightly around the abraded skin. There wasn’t much else he could do beyond this- he couldn’t knock the soldier out incase other people came for him, but he could at least provide this level of medication and wait. He supposed the previous doctors didn’t care very much. Though looking at the wound now, from this particular angle, it looked like it was already healing over from what it could have been from 9mm NATO. He would have to cut a little to get it out easier. Waiting a little longer till he was certain the medication was working, he placed a bandage pad beneath the soldier where the wound was and took a surgical knife to carefully expand the wound. Wiping away the excess blood after, he got the forceps and slid it in searching. If allowed, he would have used an x-ray before this. But as far as he flipped through the files, the doctors preferred to cut the soldier open and fix him from there. It was a wonder the soldier’s body wasn’t more riddled with scars.

As soon as his keen ears heard the sound of metal clicking on metal, a light twist of the forceps and a deeper grasp caught the bullet. Then he started working it out. When it finally pulled free of the soldier’s body, Lise breathed a sigh of relief. Tossing it and the forceps in a holding tray, he worked to clean the wound once more, checking for any other debris before stitching him up. Only after settling that wound did he pay attention to the others, stitches needed for the soldier’s shoulder as well. The rest were simply cleaned and bandaged.

Drinking his own bottle of water, Lise slowly packed away the medical kit. “How are you doing? Can you sit up? I’d look at your arm now.”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier watched his commander with eyes that were both hyper-focused and completely dead. There was no mission here and thus he had nothing to keep his mind sharp and occupied. Without that, he was only a shell until called upon for a new task. He did not flinch when the injection came, only continued to stare at the man near him. There had been so much injected into him or shoved down his throat, that he hardly registered a single shot anymore. Aside from that, flinching was bad behavior and would result in punishment.

He was unsure if the medication would work at all. Techs often complained that his body burned through food and medication too fast, a side effect of his enhanced physiology. The cost incurred to keep him sedated was too high to be used in minor surgeries and therefore he was only put under when absolutely necessary, such as for anything major involving vital organs. He did not remember those instances. They were irrelevant and thus removed from his mind. What good would it do a weapon to remember every instance of maintenance? “No, sir.” At the moment, that was true. He felt nothing in the affected area.

As the treatment began, the asset watched. He had not been ordered to look away and there was no one else in the room. The soldier had nothing more to do than wait for the surgery to be over. His body had many scars from battle or HYDRA’s experiments, but smaller wounds were quickly taken care of by his own body. He could feel the blade cutting open his abdomen but did not make a sound. The medication was already beginning to wear off and he could feel every twist of the forceps as they wormed their way deeper into his body. He kept his breathing even, but used his metal hand to clamp down on the side of the cot. The metal of the cot began to warp under the force, but the soldier was able to remain still for his commander.

Soon, he let go and resumed his almost relaxed state. The asset was never fully relaxed, even when he slept, he was aware of his surroundings and searching for potential threats. He heard the moment the forceps found the bullet and if he had been a human, he would he would have sighed in relief. The forceps moving out of his body was much less painful than going in and he let out a slow breath most people would have called a sigh.

The rest of the wounds were distinctly less involved and were soon finished. He nodded once and pushed himself into a sitting position. “Thank you, sir,” was the only answer he gave as he shifted his body to move his left arm closer to the his commander. “Pain is minimal. I am functional.”

Though Lise had mingled well with his colleagues, there was still a lot unsaid between them due to his awkward status in hierarchy. Though he was doing almost the same things as they were, his rank was much higher in paper and spanned between executive and support. In a sense, the new handler found himself ostracised from certain groups and circles among STRIKE and the technicians. Without information written in the files, he had little idea how fast medication ran through the soldier. Poisons, certainly. Anaesthetic, no.

This time however, he was gaining a sense of just that. He had been opening the mechanical kit when the soldier answered. Looking over just as the soldier sat up, he noticed the warped cot. Flicking his gaze between the twisted metal and the soldier, Lise pursed his lips tight. Sometime along that surgery the anaesthetic had worn off. But there really wasn’t any gap of time in between those movements to reapply new shots… No, he could have gone another round after expanding the wound. Lise frowned in contemplation, almost missing what the soldier said.

In his perspective, it almost sounded as if the soldier was comforting him. Lise blinked, before breathing out another sigh as he tossed the daft idea out of his mind. “Well done.” Was all he managed to mutter quietly before sitting down beside the soldier and looking at said elbow where there was damage. A slight dent and displacement of a single rim, it seemed. “Nothing big, looks like a plate replacement will do.” He told the soldier, keying in a command to turn off tactile feedback on that arm.

Removing the damaged plate was easy with the right equipment. Fortunately, the inner mechanics were still perfectly fine as he expected. Undoing a lid on the casing to reveal another compartment where spares were held, he counted and selected the respective plate piece. On it went and the technician reversed the previous command on the arm.

“There you go. Anything else you want to report?”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky���:

HYDRA was generally unconcerned with causing their weapon pain. To them, the pain would be a reminder not to behave badly. If he was disobedient or erratic, he was punished. If he was injured on a mission, his treatment was done often without any sort of anesthetic because if the medical care hurt, then he would remember not to miscalculate or act inefficiently. To them, they were doing him a favor by hurting him. The asset believed their words, their reasons. He did not complain, not anymore. Reports for pain assessment were honest, but he knew he would not be given something to dull the aches and jabs.  

Seeing his commander’s eyes move toward the bent metal of the cot, the asset felt his stomach turn to knots. He had broken HYDRA’s property and would now be punished for his incorrect action. Waiting was always worse than whatever punishment he would eventually be given. A mind that was both scared and blank all at once raced through the past punishments he had been allowed to remember, trying to brace his body for however the pain would come. Of course, HYDRA only allowed their weapon to remember the worst punishments. With only those to draw on, he grew even more terrified.

The soldier blinked. Well done? He had broken the bed and yet he was being praised. The fact that he had sat still through the procedure and done as instructed was completely lost on him in the face of this one incorrect behavior. He kept himself perfectly still while he suddenly lost feeling in the metal plating of his arm. The whole surface was wired for tactile sensation, more like pressure rather than the same feeling human skin would have. It could sense different impacts, distinguish between the soft skin of fruit and a stab by the intensity and localization of the pressure. Temperature shifts were more difficult and could only be truly felt if they became extreme. Pain was easy. HYDRA had made very sure of that.

Just as before, he remained rigidly still while his commander removed the damaged plate and began fixing his arm. He could only do basic maintenance himself and was not allowed to open the casing at all. Recalibration and twisting were allowed, never removal or touching of the wires inside. As soon as he was able to feel through the prosthetic again, he lifted his shoulder then swung his arm around in a large circle, recalilbrating it in one motion.

‘Want’? There was no ‘wanting’ in a report. There was only the necessary. “Should the conditions of the remains of the target be reported?”

Watching that ergonomically designed arm swing around was both curious and daunting to look at, especially when he knew exactly how much power was in it. It wasn’t his first time seeing the soldier do that, but it drew his attention none-the-less. Lise packed up the engineering case. “No.” His face blanched slightly, not liking those kind of knowledge at all. “I meant more like any mistakes on the other STRIKE members’ part. You’re trained to assess the situation, but the team leader has command. Sometimes they miss out things that they’re doing. I’m too far from site while you’re on the ground, and I only hear reports from the team leader. If they can improve, I’d like to know.” Lise explained.

“These kind of details can be reported to me specifically. Not to anyone else.” He added in hindsight. It was still quite concerning if the soldier went ahead with reporting like he does with him with another operative or even the Director. There might be trouble for him, but he was more worried about the soldier getting punishments because he wasn’t following the handler’s rule book himself. But he didn’t want to just obey, not when he’s in a position that could make things slightly easier for another comrade…

Looking at the damaged cot, he sighed. It’s best to get it replaced as soon as possible, but also when the soldier and Director weren’t in-house. At least it was just a little warped on the side and the solder could still sleep in it. Lise absent mindedly started planning the next best timing to arrange the furniture change.

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier continued to stare at his commander. Mistakes… Humans were capable of making them, but a weapon should not be. However, he knew there were times he malfunctioned and thus miscalculated. He knew he needed to be better for his masters and always strove to be perfect. His human handlers were not punished for failure as severely as the soldier. Speaking about their mistakes made the soldier sick with fear. If he did not answer, he was bad. If his handlers found out what he said, they would be upset. There was no way for the asset to please everyone so he settled on obeying the highest ranking person, his current commander. “Agent Swansen did not secure one of the target’s allies properly. The ally was eliminated while fleeing.” That was the biggest mistake he remembered. Allowing prisoners to leave was incorrect.

“Attempt to interrogate the target before termination were carried out by the handler, Agent Marlowe. The target was bound according to protocol. However, the handler became frustrated and beat the target resulting in swelling of the mouth and tongue. Information became difficult to distinguish from simple sounds.” The soldier normally performed any beatings used during interrogation simply because he was neutral on the whole affair. He did not enjoy the pain he inflicted on a target so would not be unnecessarily cruel. However, he also did not feel sympathy or guilt so there would be no issue of him being too soft either. He did what was needed and nothing more.

Once his report was finished, he fell silent again. Speaking more than necessary was bad. The soldier was intimately familiar with HYDRA’s rules even though they often changed. He did his best to keep up and avoid more punishment.

Listening to the soldier’s notes, his thoughts naturally gravitated elsewhere. From the ally deciding to flee, to deciding to check just who it was Swansen let run, and the various other political angles his schooling taught him, the young handler was making a little checklist on approaching those agents about their problems or taking it up with Rumlow without giving away the soldier in his head. He didn’t tell the soldier anything about it though.

“Get up and come with me. I’d be bringing you to the shower and you can clean up. Another technician will bring you back here and you should sleep. I’d be picking you up tomorrow morning.” They had been out for days and the soldier was the least of them all to be allowed to clean himself up. At his rank he had a cloth to wipe his face with, much less for anyone else.

Picking up the two cases with a hand easily, Lise used his free hand to open the door and wait for the soldier before taking out his phone to message another technician in the team to bring the soldier’s clothes. Nothing much, but at least clean military tank and pants. Files mentioned periods of not getting the soldier any to wear but no one really wants to see someone running around buck naked for nothing. The process was done away with years ago.

Leading the soldier to the shower and nodding for him to proceed, he handed the asset over to the other technician who arrived and left for his duties. He still had to check in on the team leader, write up reports on the mission and the soldier’s status and repair, and check the rest of the soldier’s returned equipment. There would be midnight oil to burn.

Not to mention the new mission the Director brought up that he and the soldier would be receiving. Pierce had already sent the case file to his desk and email. Curiosity and worry rose up in his chest and he hurried back to his office.

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

That soldier stood when instructed. He was an obedient machine and knew to listen to handlers when they gave him orders. That was all he was good for. Even on missions when he was allowed some freedom to plan, he did everything under the orders of another. Without those, he was lost and became scared of what would happen if he did anything. His commander was explaining what was going to happen, which was nice of him. Sometimes the soldier was led around the base and never told anything, not that he had any right to know. If his commander wanted, he would walk in circles for days without any reason.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, stepping out into the hallway when his commander held the door open. He paused just outside, waiting for the other to lead him along. Going in front was the place of handlers and those in power. The asset had no power and thus went in the back. That way, he could follow along like a good machine. The walk to the shower was quiet, the soldier keeping his dead gaze ahead while they moved. On arriving, he let his attention slip over to the tech who had brought some clothes as well. The asset was not allowed to shower on his own. Independence of any kind while in the base was frowned upon. Techs washed him and he stood still.

While the freezing water hit his skin and the tech washed him with a brush that felt like wire, the asset remained still, moving only when instructed. He would obey, he would be good, he would not give his commander any reason to punish him. Cold water was not an issue for the soldier. He was more than used to freezing temperatures. There was something calming about the feeling of icicles on his skin, a familiarity that he was unsure if he was allowed to feel. The thought of hot water on his skin was a fantasy and he quickly quashed it. A weapon was not allowed to imagine or dream.

Once his shower was over, he was toweled off and the clothes shoved into his hands. He changed quickly and efficiently before walking back to the cell. His commander had instructed him to wait there and sleep. Laying down on the slightly warped cot, he stared up at the ceiling, unable to obey his last command. His body was exhausted, but his mind was so blank he couldn’t even concentrate on nothingness. Finally, exhaustion won out and the soldier closed his eyes, falling asleep as ordered while he waited for his commander to return.

After returning his cases his office, the young handler swiftly headed to check in on the team’s lead. The man was awake and filled in his side of the report, before Lise brought up the management doubting the team’s ability due to intel comparisons in the form of subtle hints. A lie, one that he hoped the lead would take to heart to watch over the rest of the team more. Then it was finishing the reports to send to Pierce and the other upper management before midnight.

Deciding to read the new mission’s case file before getting to the other little paperwork and gear maintenance, Lise opened the email and physical folder. Its contents had him staring with restrained delight and anxious concern. Half an hour later, he sighed thinking about what he’d have to do tomorrow. Aside from bringing the soldier to meet with Pierce, from the mission alone he knew what would come next.

Dragging himself to finish the rest of his chores, it was near 4am when the handler crashed into his own bed. Then he was up again by seven, and out his door by seven thirty. Grabbing his breakfast and the soldier’s- multiple nutrition bars and two packets of flavoured milk, he headed back to the cell and opened the door. “Awake yet?” He paused till he got a response. “Here. Eat these and we’d have to see the Director for our next mission.” Three bars each, two standard issues for the soldier and one chocolate flavoured, Lise handed the items over before sitting beside to eat his own. He didn’t talk about what was going to happen next- they both knew, he thought.

Once they were both finished, he lead the soldier to the wiping bay where the Director was already waiting. Suppressing the churning in his gut, he saluted Pierce. “The Asset is ready to prepare for his next mission, sir.”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier waited for his commander to return. Relaxing against the cot, he tried to let his mind go into the same blank state it held when he was frozen. However, sleep and cryp-statis were not the same and his body was much more used to the freezing temperatures and near complete shut down than anything else. His commander had ordered he sleep so the asset did his best to obey. HYDRA knew everything so he was sure that if he did not sleep properly, they would know and he would be punished for it.

Seeing images behind his eyes while he slept caused the asset greater fear. His drive to obey was compromised in the ‘dreams’. HYDRA told him that any information obtained from them, no matter how real it seemed, was to be considered false. They repeated sometimes, often with a blonde man and a different name. The soldier did not have a name and yet he was called the same one when he dreamed. His handlers wiped him after he spoke of such things even though they never made sense to him. The asset did not question; he obeyed.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, sitting up. The dreams disappeared and he was left with only the thought to listen to what his commander said. Gently, he took the offered food and ate quickly. Wasting a handler’s time was wrong and there was going to be a new mission. Efficiency dictated that he eat in as little time as possible so the mission could begin. When finished, he stood along with his commander and followed the man through the base. His attention switched to the Director, a man he always remembered. The soldier did not speak, but instead nodded once in the way of a salute while the techs ushered him into the large chair.

He took the bite guard into his mouth while they fastened the straps and clamps around his arms and legs. When the chair finally leaned back, the pain came and he screamed. His body tensed, muscles jerking and spasming of their own accord while the asset tried his best to keep from crying. Every nerve ending felt as though it as being burned from the inside, his vision popping with color and blackness. A soft whine left him as the chair was shut down and for several moments, he did not know where he was, vision blurry and body exhausted from the thrashing it had done to escape.

Today it was the other technicians who were in charge of the wipe, since he was here as the next mission’s agent. But Lise knew just what the settings would be, a longer, cleaner wipe that erased the last mission and suppressed based memories even further. His adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed, jaw tight as he tried not to listen to the other man’s screams. Grey eyes unfocused and re-centered back on the soldier’s hand, unable to look away, for HYDRA’s rules and natural instinct commanded so.

It was an effort to keep his hands loose and not close them into fists.

Seconds ticked by as the Director’s scent from beside him went from faint fear to predatory pleasure. The muscles along his shoulders tensed even more. Then it was over. Lise’s gaze flitted immediately to the soldier’s face when the chair shifted back into proper posture. Pierce stepped forward, observing it too. “Back with us now?” After a while, the Director’s patience ran thin and patted the soldier’s cheek. To be honest, most of the training were by the earlier leaders and then commanders and soldiers in between. The directors and upper management just gave directions for what they wanted out of the asset, and didn’t know how exactly to control it besides key words. They were always lucky the discipline was instilled strongly for how they behaved around him. Lise breathed out, working on relaxing once more.

The technicians fussed about until the soldier was ready and removed the restraints. Pierce however, began talking as soon as the soldier’s eyes were on him. “From today onwards, you will be on an espionage and assassination mission of one Luther Cade, a Pentagon official injected by SHIELD. You will work together only with your handler, Brandt, and you will weed out other SHIELD connections in the Pentagon as well as figure out what Luther Cade is working on in secret for them before eliminating him. Am I understood?”

Naturally, the rest of the mission’s explanation, planning and execution was left to Lise. He still hated how the Director preferred to call him by his surname. The man thinks its a term of familiarity, to show he recognised his connection to the director of research and development, but Lise never appreciated it. If it weren’t for that connection, he would have never been brought in here. The handler stepped forward, getting a closer look to see if the soldier was doing better than he was moments ago.

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

Always, always, the soldier was disoriented when the wipe process ended. His mind had been fried with more volts than a human could survive and he was expected to continue moving. There were only a few moments in which he was allowed to stop and rest, to collect himself even if he couldn’t consciously say he was doing so. The asset had to wait for his vision to come into focus, for the static to stop, and for the incessant ringing to fade from his ears. As the world became clearer, his mind instinctively tried to piece together where he was and what was happening. Each shred of memory he reached for disappeared like gun smoke until there was nothing.

When he was finally able to see clearly, his gaze focused on the oldest man in the room. His mind supplied ‘Secretary Pierce’ and ‘commander’ automatically. He was meant to obey this man. This man was the head of HYDRA. He belonged to HYDRA. There was a question coming from the man and the soldier tried his best to answer, but he could not remember how to speak. The touch at his cheek snapped his mind forward, supplying English as the language he was meant to be using. There were others floating in his mind, but they were not necessary now and were pushed away.

“Sir.” He replied. The patting barely registered as a touch considering how used to intense pain the soldier was, but he knew to pay attention. He could feel the techs around him and the loosening of the bindings on his arms, legs, and chest. The soldier did not move. He had not been ordered to. His purpose was to obey. Without permission to move, he would not even though he was no longer bound to the chair. He had to focus all of his attention on the Secretary in order to retain the information. Right after a wipe, he was easy to indoctrinate, but the information had to be repeated by either himself or the commander.

“Yes, sir,” he answered. “Mission parameters: locate and observe SHIELD agent Luther Cade. Obtain information on his projects under the direction of Agent Brandt. Ascertain the whereabouts of the target’s allies. After information is retrieved, eliminate the target. Follow the directions of Agent Brandt at all times. He is the handler.” His eyes moved over to the agent for a moment, studying him. There was a spark of familiarity in the soldier’s eyes, but it was gone in the next instant. He knew he had worked with some handlers before. However, their faces were fuzzy at best.

Watching the faint tremors fade away and listening to the soldier’s breaths even out quickly, as well as repeat the mission clearly to Pierce, the handler felt his heart settle. The soldier was back to operating status. The Director too, was satisfied with its answer. “Good.” He said and turned to the handler. “Then I’d be leaving the Asset in your hands, Brandt.” This time, his hand settled on Lise’s shoulder with assuring weight. “Catch it up on the current times as planned. I was hoping to have the mission done within a month but- since it’s you and we all know what’s ahead for you, take your time to familiarise one-on-one. Two months should be good enough, mn?”

“Thank you sir.” Smiling back casually and so unfitting of their present settings, the handler’s acting skills turned on the moment Pierce touched him. The head of HYDRA and his father were close, naturally they would have a friendly relationship, even if Lise was unwilling. A few more pats and Lise watched him turn away and leave, taking slow deliberate breaths as he tried not to think too much about what his father wanted him to become. Grey eyes shifted from the back of that grey suit to the soldier’s blues and the shy and delighted smile which had turned thin seconds ago rose back on the handler’s face faintly. “Get up, soldier. We’d go to my office and iron out the mission details.”

Once they got back to the armoury office, Lise had the soldier sit on the leather bench in the armoury section before pouring two glasses of water for the both of them. The area had a coffee table and another bench across it, usually used for cleaning weapons. On the table now laid several files, passbooks, a set of clothes and carry-on weapons and knives. Beside it were two luggage cases. Bringing the glasses over, he placed one in front of the soldier before taking his own seat. “Drink.” It was a habit, when he handled the asset after a wipe. All that screaming needed something for the throat. He too drank some before putting his own glass aside, picking up another file to pass to the soldier. “Look through this first.”

“Our identities on this mission will be as college friends, on vacation from work to visit Washington D.C., where Luther Cade will be in a few days.” The file he passed to the soldier was on their target. Sliding the passports on the table infront of the soldier as well, he continued. “Your name is Yasha Wolf, a mechanic with his own shop in New York. The other two are backups. The information is in here.” He slid another file forward. “My name is Sergei White, engineering in a car company. We met in the city college of New York. I’ve booked a hotel opposite of Cade’s service apartment, as well as rented a unit under renovation that has a view of Cade’s external office. We also have an apartment in the Student Housing near the Pentagon to round back to.” Sliding the last file forward, he finished up. “These are all the current boltholes and our resources in D.C. Remember them.”

“Any questions?”

winter-soldier-asset-bucky‌:

The soldier was paying attention to everything the Secretary said, but he was having issues making his eyes focus completely on the man. Thankfully, the Secretary was no longer speaking to him, but rather his handler. Anything that was important to the mission would be given to his commander and then the soldier would be told when necessary. At times, humans spoke as though the asset was a dog or piece of furniture, there but not there at the same time and certainly not sentient enough to have his own input. That was normal. A weapon did not assist in mission planning unless directly instructed to do so. There had been missions in which the soldier was allowed to plan his own actions, but he was always subordinate to his commander.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, standing. His first steps were unsteady, but he corrected for the imbalance quickly and was soon able to walk a pace behind his commander. He kept his eyes firmly on his handler until they reached the armory. Nodding once, stiff, he sat down where directed and continued to keep his attention on the man. He always needed to be watching, studying, waiting for more orders. If he let his attention slip at all, even if it was out of his control, he could be punished for being bad. Slowly, his eyes moved down to the glass that had been placed in his hands. He held it using his right side, leaving the left prepared to defend or attack if given the direction. Repeating his affirmative, he placed the glass against his lips and drank slowly.

Friends? The soldier could not think of any context he could use for this assignment. Normally, he was not put on undercover work, only if the mission was going to be long term. He was not even sure if he had ever been to college. Certainly, he knew what a college was, but could not think of a time when he had been on a campus. He picked up the file on the target and began scanning it. HYDRA had taught him to memorize information extremely quickly and he was soon sure he could parrot everything in the file back to his handler. Next, he looked at the passport. His own face stared back at him from the identification image. The last file told him information he was more used to receiving. Another nod and he closed all of the files, setting them on the table again.

Admitting lack of knowledge was bad and yet not asking would lead to more problems later. There were two questions that stuck out in the soldier’s mind more than others, ones that needed to be resolved before he could perform the mission to the Secretary’s wishes. Answering to a new name would not be hard. ‘Yasha’ was one he remembered from a few missions in which he had been instructed to blend in with civilians. It set off little sparks in his mind, but he had been trained well enough to ignore them. “What are you to be called on this mission?” he began. If they were friends, that meant he would have to refer to his commander by name. Maybe? “How does one act like a friend?”

Lise trusted the soldier remembered everything on the files. He had tested him a few times before, on different occasions, with nary a mistake. Hence, he didn’t see the need to test him again this time either. Besides, since they were both on the mission and he would be by the soldier’s side most of the time, it would be fine since his own memory never failed. What he was more concerned about was that this was his first time handling an undercover mission with the soldier. He was used to planning and preparing behind the scenes, and even if they went on missions together, a whole team of soldiers had always went along. It was foreign being on the front line and managing the soldier personally.

Therefore he put a lot more effort than usual tailoring their mission itinerary and extracting the information the soldier needed in those files, based off his recollection of the soldier’s archives. The name was a deliberate choice, as well as a highlighted option from his predecessors. “You will call me Sergei. My real name is Lise Vuhs- Brandt is my paternal last name, I prefer using my mother’s. You knew me as Commander Vuhs. Most of this mission will not be wiped after completion, because it includes training modules, so I suspect you’d be able to recall that in the future too.” He answered, pausing on the second question.

It was unexpected. Rather, it was his mistake. He should have expected it. Expression softening, he looked at the soldier before sliding his gaze to a side as he considered how to answer his question. Explaining and expecting the usual common knowledge wouldn’t work well. Considering in the soldier’s terms, he started hesitantly as his gaze flickered back up. “Friends protect each other and spend time together. It’s comfortable so friends relax when they are together. You can speak or ask questions that come to your mind freely.” Lise paused, reminded of how HYDRA trained the soldier and… him.  

“We will assume our identities once we leave HYDRA compounds… from then on you can behave as a friend. You can also take initiative and make suggestions to our mission as you see fit, because you’re more familiar with assassinations than I am. You do not have to fear punishment from me for doing so.” Breathing out, he considered a little further. “When I address you as Wolf, it will mean I take full authority as handler. When I address you as Yasha, we go back to being friends. Is that clear for you?”

All of what he said were reasons why he set their status as friends for the mission. It was so they could stay in the same rented rooms be it ‘saving money’ or ‘bonding time’ with less suspicion compared to colleagues. Even then, they would still have to be friends anyway. Colleagues include having the same backstories and references for work, another difficult topic to maintain under question. College was easier and much shorter, the key points written in a few short paragraphs in one of those files.

[damonbation]

The Bitcoin Game #61: Journalist Leigh Cuen

Welcome to episode 61 of‚The Bitcoin Game, I'm Rob Mitchell. In less than two years in the space, Leigh Cuen has become a mainstay in cryptocurrency journalism, as well as a highly elite user of GIFs on Crypto-Twitter. It was interesting to learn more about this prolific writer's background, thoughts about cryptocurrency, and even some basics about the business of journalism.

EPISODE LINKS

Leigh on Twitter https://twitter.com/la__cuen

Leigh's Coindesk Articles https://www.coindesk.com/author/lcuen

Poet takes revolution from Facebook to the world, by Leigh Cuen https://www.salon.com/2013/06/30/poet_takes_revolution_from_facebook_to_the_world

A 'new poetry' emerges from Syria's civil war, by Leigh Cuenhttps://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2013/09/20139784442125773.html

How Fintech Plays Into The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, by Leigh Cuen https://www.ibtimes.com/how-fintech-plays-israeli-palestinian-conflict-2592984

How Iranian Women Became the Queens of Online Shopping, by Leigh Cuen https://www.racked.com/2017/5/10/15450318/iran-online-shopping-women-tech

Trump Lies About the Status of the Economy, by Leigh Cuen https://www.teenvogue.com/story/trump-lies-about-the-status-of-the-economy

Pete Rizzo https://twitter.com/pete_rizzo_

Marc Hochstein https://twitter.com/MarcHochstein

Zack Seward https://twitter.com/zackseward

The Bitcoin Standard, by Saifedean Ammous https://amzn.to/2EGjGV9

There's No Crypto Winter in Argentina..., by Leigh Cuen https://www.coindesk.com/crypto-startups-in-argentina-inflation-bitcoin

Bitcoin's Warrior Queen: Lightning's Elizabeth Stark..., by Leigh Cuen https://www.coindesk.com/coindesk-most-influential-blockchain-2018-elizabeth-stark

KPI (key performance indicator) https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-most-popular-KPIs-for-the-online-media-industry

Mastering Bitcoin, by Andreas M. Antonopoulos https://bitcoinbook.info

STAY IN TOUCH

Thanks so much for taking the time to listen to The Bitcoin Game!

https://Twitter.com/TheBTCGame http://TheBitcoinGame.com Rob@TheBitcoinGame.com

SPONSORS

The upcoming Bitcoin2019 conference is taking place on June 25 and 26 in San Fransisco. There's an amazing line-up of speakers, and it's one of the most affordable Bitcoin conferences around. Go to Bitcoin2019Conference.com now and claim a 25 percent discount with promo code BG25.

Bitcoin2019Conference.com

While much of a Bitcoiner's time is spent in the world of digital assets, sometimes it's nice to own a physical representation of the virtual things you care about. For just the price of a cup of coffee or two (at Starbucks), you can own the world famous Bitcoin Keychain.

As Seen On The Guardian ' TechCrunch ' Engadget ' Ars Technica ' Popular Mechanics Inforwars ' Maxim ' Inc. ' Vice ' RT ' Bitcoin Magazine ' VentureBeat PRI ' CoinDesk ' Washington Post ' Forbes ' Fast Company

Bitcoin Keychains - BKeychain.com

CREDITS

All music in this episode of The Bitcoin Game was created by Rob Mitchell.

The Bitcoin Game box art was created from an illustration by Rock Barcellos.

Bitcoin (Segwit) tipping address: 3AYvXZseExRn3Dum8z9tFUk9jtQK6KMU4g

Lightning Network tipping: https://tippin.me/@TheBTCGame

Note: We've migrated our RSS feed (and primary content host) from Soundcloud to Libsyn. So if you notice the Soundcloud numbers have dropped off, that's the reason.

from Money 101 https://letstalkbitcoin.com/blog/post/the-bitcoin-game-61-journalist-leigh-cuen via http://www.rssmix.com/

[danielmarkharrison]

The Bitcoin Game #61: Journalist Leigh Cuen

Welcome to episode 61 of‚The Bitcoin Game, I'm Rob Mitchell. In less than two years in the space, Leigh Cuen has become a mainstay in cryptocurrency journalism, as well as a highly elite user of GIFs on Crypto-Twitter. It was interesting to learn more about this prolific writer's background, thoughts about cryptocurrency, and even some basics about the business of journalism.

EPISODE LINKS

Leigh on Twitter https://twitter.com/la__cuen

Leigh's Coindesk Articles https://www.coindesk.com/author/lcuen

Poet takes revolution from Facebook to the world, by Leigh Cuen https://www.salon.com/2013/06/30/poet_takes_revolution_from_facebook_to_the_world

A 'new poetry' emerges from Syria's civil war, by Leigh Cuenhttps://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2013/09/20139784442125773.html

How Fintech Plays Into The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, by Leigh Cuen https://www.ibtimes.com/how-fintech-plays-israeli-palestinian-conflict-2592984

How Iranian Women Became the Queens of Online Shopping, by Leigh Cuen https://www.racked.com/2017/5/10/15450318/iran-online-shopping-women-tech

Trump Lies About the Status of the Economy, by Leigh Cuen https://www.teenvogue.com/story/trump-lies-about-the-status-of-the-economy

Pete Rizzo https://twitter.com/pete_rizzo_

Marc Hochstein https://twitter.com/MarcHochstein

Zack Seward https://twitter.com/zackseward

The Bitcoin Standard, by Saifedean Ammous https://amzn.to/2EGjGV9

There's No Crypto Winter in Argentina..., by Leigh Cuen https://www.coindesk.com/crypto-startups-in-argentina-inflation-bitcoin

Bitcoin's Warrior Queen: Lightning's Elizabeth Stark..., by Leigh Cuen https://www.coindesk.com/coindesk-most-influential-blockchain-2018-elizabeth-stark

KPI (key performance indicator) https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-most-popular-KPIs-for-the-online-media-industry

Mastering Bitcoin, by Andreas M. Antonopoulos https://bitcoinbook.info

STAY IN TOUCH

Thanks so much for taking the time to listen to The Bitcoin Game!

https://Twitter.com/TheBTCGame http://TheBitcoinGame.com Rob@TheBitcoinGame.com

SPONSORS

The upcoming Bitcoin2019 conference is taking place on June 25 and 26 in San Fransisco. There's an amazing line-up of speakers, and it's one of the most affordable Bitcoin conferences around. Go to Bitcoin2019Conference.com now and claim a 25 percent discount with promo code BG25.

Bitcoin2019Conference.com

While much of a Bitcoiner's time is spent in the world of digital assets, sometimes it's nice to own a physical representation of the virtual things you care about. For just the price of a cup of coffee or two (at Starbucks), you can own the world famous Bitcoin Keychain.

As Seen On The Guardian ' TechCrunch ' Engadget ' Ars Technica ' Popular Mechanics Inforwars ' Maxim ' Inc. ' Vice ' RT ' Bitcoin Magazine ' VentureBeat PRI ' CoinDesk ' Washington Post ' Forbes ' Fast Company

Bitcoin Keychains - BKeychain.com

CREDITS

All music in this episode of The Bitcoin Game was created by Rob Mitchell.

The Bitcoin Game box art was created from an illustration by Rock Barcellos.

Bitcoin (Segwit) tipping address: 3AYvXZseExRn3Dum8z9tFUk9jtQK6KMU4g

Lightning Network tipping: https://tippin.me/@TheBTCGame

Note: We've migrated our RSS feed (and primary content host) from Soundcloud to Libsyn. So if you notice the Soundcloud numbers have dropped off, that's the reason.

from The Let's Talk Bitcoin Network https://ift.tt/2tTGsCF via IFTTT