gregoryharbin

[gregoryharbin]

oh, so when other people go outside it’s “good for their health” and “highly recommended”, it’s only when i do it that it’s a “containment breach” and a “high-level threat to public safety and security”, huh?

[gregoryharbin]

Bisexual and… half… elf wait a second

i need you all to reblog this with your sexuality and what your first dnd character’s race was

it’s for science

[gregoryharbin]

Section 31 - A Star Trek Discovery Story

Chapter 1 here: http://gregoryharbin.tumblr.com/post/170814278682/section-31-a-star-trek-discovery-story

2.

T'Kuvma's Dream orbited Qo'Nos slowly, making its slow creep past the mining moon Praxis. Voq was the captain, and sat in his chair on the dank bridge lit by orange lights that turned his pallid skin the color of week-old gagh. Voq was Ash Tyler, and Ash Tyler was Voq. The two halves warred inside him, an endless stuggle barely mitigated by Queen L'Rell's procedure.

He now knew who he was, and the torture of a combined soul no longer ripped him apart. But knowing was, in a way, almost worse. Ash Tyler wanted to stay with Michael Burnham, the woman he loved. Ash Tyler hated L'Rell, the woman who had forced herself on him during his fabricated imprisonment. But Ash Tyler didn't exist, not really. Ash Tyler was killed by Kol at the Battle of the Binaries, the battle Voq started by lighting the torch.

So he was Voq, the Klingon captain with the face and puny body of a human who was long dead. Voq did not care for Michael Burham. Voq ate her captain and loved his queen. In memories constantly bubbling to the surface, Voq remembered his duty. He remembered why he was here, a Sword of Damocles hovering over his homeworld. Voq knew there was a better, Klingon metaphor for his mission, but the Klingon had never been one for books.

"If I send the signal, destroy it. If I am killed, destroy it. If you are attacked, destroy it."

L'Rell's last command hung over every action he took. He had not left his post in four plodding orbits, the  bridge crew around him changing shifts several times while muttering liminal insults among themselves. As an albino he had been shunned, but as this mockery of a human he was openly despised.

Voq had tried to create respect by eating and drinking with roars, shoving subordinants against walls, and practicing with his bat'leth against any who would challange him, but it seemed that nothing short of a brutal killing would shift his crew's view of him, and Ash--Voq couldn't bring himself to do it.

If holding the Klingon Empire at mek'leth-point was all Voq had to live for, he might just have gone insane. The idea of destroying his homeworld from the inside out was horrifying to both his warring halves, an evil plan hatched by two of the scarier women he had ever met. The exact two women he had now thrown his lot in with.

"You have the bridge!" Voq shouted in Klingon at his second-in-command, a dark-complected and angry Klingon named Qar that Voq had never met before this posting. Voq was sure that Qar had plans against him, but just as Voq's detonator was keeping the Empire in line, so it kept this ship in line too. Voq's pocket vibrated, and he pulled out a small rectangular device. If he just let it keep buzzing for five more minutes... But Voq disarmed the dead man's switch and placed it back in his pocket and headed for the door.

In his quarters, Voq reached into his other pocket for an isolinear chip which he inserted into his communications console. After keying in a password, two holographic human figures appeared in the space in front of his desk.

"Lieutenant Tyler, you are late," said Admiral Cornwell, not unkindly.

"I came as quickly as I could without araising suspiction, Admiral," Voq responded. The English words tasted good on his human tongue.

The hologram of Georgieou scoffed. "They are as clumsy as they are stupid, Klingon," she said. "You, my friend, are the only one who would be smart enough to see through your own deception."

"Friend? Is that what we are?" Voq asked. "You called me a half-breed. You're holding my people's hands to the flame and you still call us friends?"

Admiral Cornwell's figure looked between the two of them. "Don't forget, Lieutenant, it is not we who hold the detonator."

Then it was Voq's turn to scoff. "Yes, because Michael played into your charade," he said. "You're leaving a, a terrible woman in control of Qo'noS."

"No, Mr Tyler," responded Cornwell. "I'm leaving you in charge of Qo'noS. Until we can find a more...permenant solution to the Klingon problem."

Voq nodded. "Which is why I'm risking exposure to join your staff meeting. I don't trust this Terran technology."

The former Terran emperor stepped towards Voq soundlessly. "You would be thankful if I could have brought more of my technology with me. My scientists never failed when I asked them to solve a problem."

"And we're going to have to get by on the fragments recovered from the wreckage of the ISS Discovery for now," said Cornwell. "But you can be assured, Lieutenant, that this stealthed communications technology is sound. If there's one thing the Empire knew, it was secrecy."

Voq raised his hands up defensively. "Please stop calling me Lieutenant, Admiral," he said. "I never was that man, and I don't want to pretend to be him anymore."

"No, Ash. You're something more now." Cornwell smiled and she activated a screen for them all to view. "You've joined Section 31 as part of an elite group. You should be honored. We are going to find a way to end this war."

Voq's heartrate quickened, but Cornwell's eyes met his. "We're going to find a way to save both our worlds."

Philippa Georgiou's smile shrank to a line. "If we have to."

[gregoryharbin]

Section 31 - A Star Trek Discovery Story

1.

Fools.

Admiral Katrina Cornwell stood at attention while Gabriel’s little protege droned on about family and trust and second chances. No, not Gabriel, she reminded herself. Her Gabriel had been blown to space dust when that interloper crossed realities. Blown to space dust along with a future she had still imagined sometimes, a cabin, maybe, in Montana. Getting away from Starfleet once Gabriel was done playing the hero at the outer edge of space.

But he was gone, and in his place this darkened Gabriel with whom she shared her feelings and her bed. A night of strange passion that she was still processing when he shoved a hidden phaser in her face. That betrayal was worse than the rest of it that followed, the fake peace conference and Klingon torture.

But when that the other Gabriel was gone too, Kat’s mind had begun to change. This war, which Burnham was speaking about in the past tense, was far from over. She knew L’Rell, the new leader of a unified Klingon Empire. L’Rell couldn’t stop fighting any more than she could stop breathing. Kat knew the Empire was more dangerous than it has ever been before.

There was one person she could count on in the world now. Not these stuffed suits giving out medals to cowards. Not the scarred man who was now scattered across the fungal network. Her only link to that Gabriel, the woman who intrigued her as much as she scared her.

Cornwell’s new office was located in one of the more tucked-away portions of Starfleet Command in San Francisco. Normally she would have enjoyed a leisurely shuttle ride into orbit from Federation HQ in Paris, but Kat’s recent experience had made her impatient. She could hear that drum of a heartbeat from the imposter Gabriel. She could feel it travel from her hands down into her own soul. So she stepped into one of the transporter pads outside the meeting hall and indicated to the chief her destination: Section 31.

Cornwell’s first thought as her brain rematerialized were that both Gabriels would have appreciated the tribute.  She had named the new counter-intelligence division after the ship that had given so much intel in the months they were active. The NCC-1031 Discovery was the only ship with Paul Stamets’ creation, the DASH drive. Spore travel hadn’t been just theoretical, it was laughed out of the offices of several vice admirals until Lorca had ‘returned’, singing the praises of Stamets‘ genius and the possibilities for exploration.

He spoke of “Strange new worlds, new lifeforms, and new civilizations.”

It wasn’t until later that Kat realized that Gabriel’s quotations of Zephram Cochrane were so accurate because he had just read them from a textbook. Probably that very morning. But Kat was done feeling manipulated or betrayed. Gabriel had done what he had to do get the program off the ground, and when the Discovery and the Glenn were christened within months, even the top brass in Paris were impressed with his results. The tragic loss of the Glenn even provided a clue to making the drive work, an act the Admiral has thought mere coincidence at the time.

Starfleet had assigned Cornwell and a small group of admirals to receive the Discovery’s coded messages and relay new orders. They’d made remarkable progress in such a small amount of time, and victory had seemed so close. Only her growing distrust of Lorca nagged at the back of her mind. But his methods were working. When she was rescued, the Klingon flagship destroyed, and Starfleet ordered Lorca home, she wasn’t even sure what they would do.

But no medal, no court martial, and no cabin in Montana would be coming for Gabriel Lorca. The quickly-classified ISS Discovery was found as a cloud of debris. No survivors, and no sign of the man she thought she loved.

Kat Cornwell stepped into her grey office. Steel decor and glass accents matched, it not consciously, the way she felt inside. They had had no time for a search, no time for mourning. Gabriel was gone, both of them. A valiant crew, vanished without a trace. And with them, the only tool holding back the increasingly splintered and angry Klingon fleet. Cornwell’s office turned from intelligence gathering to… well, whatever it was going to take to win the war.

Not since the Xindi threat had Earth itself been threatened. After a brief power struggle, Admiral Marcus left the group and Cornwell emerged as the leader of what she first jokingly, then later officially, called Section 31. A Federation charter made their actions legal, and then quickly ignored by the rest of Starfleet, who would rather believe that negotiation would win the war, not shrewd tactics.

Cornwell reviewed her datapads of the last nine months, sighing deeply as she tapped through their contents. She had to admit that even the shrewd tactics had not done anything except delay the inevitable. A different kind of thinking was required.

When her Section 31 team stormed the newly reappeared USS Discovery, Kat half-hoped to find the imposter Gabriel still on the bridge. Even clamped in irons, he could give her that insight she lacked. That extra percentage of cunning that humanity had weeded out in the last two hundred years since First Contact Day.

And now she had it. If not the man himself, maybe something better. The mutineer Burnham had accidentally brought her exactly what she needed.

A three tone notification on the console meant that the first piece of the puzzle was in place. Tapping commands into the LCARS terminal, she submitted to a retinal scan and stated “Admiral Katrina Cornwell, security code Gamma Lamda one oh three one.” Then, ensuring that her office was sealed, she inserted a small isolinear chip into a slot on the desktop.

Immediately the holographic projectors scattered around her office glittered into action, and a familiar form made its translucent shape in front of her. Clad in combat boots, leather pants and a well-fitted jacket, Philippa Georgiou, former leader of the Terran Empire, finished tying her hair up, met her eyes, and smiled.

“Hello, Kat. Is this line secure?”

Chapter 2 here: http://gregoryharbin.tumblr.com/post/170853770967/section-31-a-star-trek-discovery-story

[gregoryharbin]

Something like this seems to happen every time I try playing Hanzo…

[gregoryharbin]

A Star Wars: The Force Awakens Story

Rey had set down the bulky freighter as gently as she could, a rush of emotions swelling over her that she couldn’t quite describe, much less process. As Chewbacca growled to her his thanks, she met his eyes for just a moment before having to look away. She made her way, disoriented, through the empty corridor and down the ramp into a sea of verdant green and cacophonous cheering. She saw joy in the crowd, but she could not feel it herself. Relief, perhaps, that the angry young man and his giant machine had been defeated, but she could not feel joy. She scanned the crowd for eyes she knew must be feeling as she did.

————

“Hey, who told you to touch that!” had come the rough voice of the old man as he entered her cabin, his eyes darting first to her and then to the holoprojector that had caught his attention. Her scavenger’s instincts had gotten the better of her, and she had pressed some buttons near her bed, and, impossible to conceal, a holovid was playing on loop in the middle of the floor. Solo had been angry at first, but his eyes tamed as he looked between the two of them, and now a curious feeling had replaced them. She felt a stirring as he smiled, and she looked at the projection again with a new appreciation. Curiosity spilled over her, though, and she asked him, grinning, ‘who is she? She’s beautiful!”

————

And she still was. Far away, Rey spotted her. She was older than the projection she had seen, but her face had lost none of its gentle grace, her eyes none of their caring. And as the General met Rey’s gaze, she saw, too, the pleading eyes of the girl she saw in her cabin on the Falcon.

————

“My mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed,” the projection had continued. The girl wore a long, white robe, simple but elegant, and her hair was piled into buns on the side of her hair. It reminded Rey of old photographs of the Galactic Senate she had seen in a crashed battleship out on the dune sea on Jakku.

“Beautiful, sure. And feisty,” said Solo. He seemed to come out of a reminiscent daze. He grinned, and his face became boyish for not the first time since Rey had met him. “She got me into more scrapes than anyone else I’ve known, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t get me out of most of them herself, too.”

————

The General put her arms around Rey. They embraced, emotion swelling over both of them. Rey felt like the feeling of loss she felt was swallowed up and engulfed by an even greater and deeper feeling, and her heart became stuck in her throat. She felt the General’s tears on her neck and then tears of her own, tears that had been stuck just behind her eyes, came pouring out down her cheeks.

————

“The princess? But I thought she was a—“

“—myth, right.” The man nodded. “I’m sure some of what you’ll hear about the war is exaggerated, but Leia was—she is—the real deal. And if she was stubborn then, just wait until after the war.” He pointed at her, wagging his finger. “You just don’t want to get her talking about trade negotiations.”

“Where is she?” Rey asked.

“She’s where she always is, where she’s needed. Hell, she’s where I should be. Running this damn Resistance against the First Order. Once we see Maz, that’s probably where I’m headed next. I’ve been running away for too long.”

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

His eyes jerked over to the vid again, and he seemed to realize he’d been talking too long, and he gruffly stood up. “Anyway, you should get some sleep. We’re going to have a big day tomorrow.” And he had blinked off the projector and left her alone in the room.

————

“I’m so glad you knew him,” whispered the General, holding her even more tightly. “He was…a good man. One of the only good men I’ve ever known.” Rey held on as tightly as she could.

[gregoryharbin]

interesting dragon age party compositions or dynamics

(solas | sten): team ‘if you thought fenris and anders were bad’

(zevran | isabela | dorian): the we’re queer we’re here but god at what cost party

(morrigan | anders | solas): the asshole apostates party party

(shale | dorian): team uses snark to hide crippling fears of being controlled and stripped of agency and you thought this was going to be funny yoU THOUGHT THIS WAS A JOKE

(alistair | dorian): team it is a joke

(isabela | leliana | sera): the *thinks about ladies* nice party

(blackwall | anders | alistair): the has very different opinions about grey wardens grey warden party

(velanna | solas): team we hate each other so much but at least we have occasional shared moments of elitism to keep us warm

(cassandra | isabela | aveline): the talks about selfishness a lot but secretly shares smutty romance novels party

(carver | sten): team bit of a tit

(cassandra | morrigan | sebastian): the let’s talk about faith… or better yet maybe not party

(cole | aveline): team play nice or else

(fenris | iron bull | dorian): the fuck the vints and also fuck the vints party

(fenris | dorian): team dorian tried to laugh it off but now he’s dead

(zevran | anders | morrigan): the playfully irreverent asshole party

(cole | anders): team anders has been tortured and abused and hurt and is in so much pain and cole is the only one that cares and he just wants to help and now he’s crying and im crying everyone is crying. also fuck the templars

(aveline | wynne): team benevolently judgmental team mom

[gregoryharbin]

A follow-up on this. =X

[gregoryharbin]

Cersei still thinks she's going to have all their heads in nooses.

[gregoryharbin]

I’ve never been a big fan of Uptown Funk, but this mix with Seven Nation Army makes the whole song sound so… evil. I love it.

[gregoryharbin]

Yes.

I’M A JEDI AGAIN MOM

[gregoryharbin]

I hope the phone is cracked from where you threw it against his truck.

[gregoryharbin]

How can you not be bisexual when #blackout exists?

[gregoryharbin]

ok we had to watch this in chem class

that sexual tension

[gregoryharbin]

I'm replaying DA:O

Husband: What are you gonna name your Mabari?

Me: Umm..

Husband: Tom? Tom Rainer the Mabari?

[gregoryharbin]

Be your own shining black prince.

I am that girl. The one that tried to slap you from the backwater bayou, that southern ghetto trash. 

[gregoryharbin]

Who, Eddie Redmayne?

Yes, I quite enjoyed his subtle, Oscar-winning performance in The Theory of Everything, in which he carefully balanced the— *Balem Abraxax action figure tumbles out of pocket*—oh that, I just saw it in the store, um, I appreciated Redmayne’s careful and most of all important depiction of Steven Hawking as a—*tubes marked LIP COLLAGEN fall out of bag*—no these, I’m just holding them for a friend, it’s not—*gold ringlets burst from everywhere*—NO shit I don’t know how that got there I—*vest bursts open revealing pristinely shaved chest*—FINE I CREATE LIIIIIIIIIIFE! And I destroy it! Are you happy?! *sobs*