#Ne'er Queue well

[dangraccoon]

What I Said

Tech x f!reader (she/her pronouns, otherwise undescribed)

Warnings: Reader is a civilian journalist, jealousy, misunderstandings, pining, Tech is autistic, Kaminoans were assholes, The Bad Batch was abused as children, Referenced Past Child Abuse, it gets a little whumpy but has a happy ending!

All Mando'a used is translated within the story!

Tech’s brow furrowed as you talked animatedly to Wrecker and Echo around the fire. He buried himself in his datapad again, hoping to tune out the nonsense spewing from you to his brothers’ delight. You were too busy telling them about the stories you had woven to notice his frustration, but Hunter certainly did. 

He got up, moving from his quiet spot at the edge of the clearing to sit next to his irritated brother. 

“Tech?” he questioned. 

“Yes, Hunter?”

“What’s wrong?”

Tech momentarily paused his scrolling. “It is of no importance,” he decided. 

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Tion’cuyir bic kaysh?” [Is it her?]

“Ibac cuyir dini’la,” Tech rolled his eyes. [That is mad.]

“Gar ru'kir cuyir or'atu irudayc at kaysh,” Hunter chuckled. “Gar ru'kir cuyir ori’jaytyc.” [You should be more friendly to her. She is very nice.]

“Vod, gar ganar noy'ganyc gar kov'nyn o'r te akaan. Ni cuy' ratiin irudayc.” [Brother, you have lost your head in the war. I am always friendly.]

“Ibac cuyir osik bal gar kar'taylir bic,” Crosshair drawled from behind them. [That is dung and you know it.]

Great, Tech thought, rolling his eyes. 

“O'r haa'keb, Ni mirdir kaysh guuror te dala ori’sol,” Crosshair smirked. [In fact, I think he likes the woman a lot.]

“Ibac cuyir ogir'olar,” Tech growled, a little too quickly, but breathed a quiet admission to himself, as well as Hunter. “Kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la.” [That is irrelevant. She is very clever, and beautiful.]

“Hey,” Wrecker shouted across the fire. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?”

Tech’s brow furrowed even more as he went back to his research on his datapad. He hoped that the light of the fire disguised the flush of his cheeks as you carefully observed the group. 

You could tell they were talking about you. The boys didn’t have full conversations in mando’a much, usually only utilizing a word or two. You felt your embarrassment heat your face, and you listened to Crosshair and Wrecker bicker about private conversations. Using the growing debate as cover, you rose from the rock you’d been perched on, quietly making your way back to the ship.

Once you were securely in your bunk room, you let out a long sigh. It seemed like the boys were bickering more and more lately and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault. 

A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. 

“Who is it?” you called. 

“Echo,” he replied. 

You slid the door open, inviting him in. 

“What’s up?” you tried to ask nonchalantly. 

“Are you okay?”

That caught you off-guard. You’d been with the Bad Batch for almost 3 standard weeks. Sure, you got along fine with them - well most of them - but it wasn’t like you were particularly close. 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Just got tired, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about the others,” he said abruptly.

You hummed a little. You didn’t think anyone needed to apologize, especially Echo, who didn’t get involved.

“Right, well- um, have a good night,” he mumbled, giving you a curt nod before retreating from the room, closing the door behind him. 

–––––

The next few days felt rocky, even though most of the squad seemed fine, one member was particularly snarky. Tech wasn’t happy with his brothers, and he made sure they knew. He acted no differently than he had before with you. Indifference seemed to seep off of him when you were near, but he’d leave the space when you joined it, if possible. 

By the third day of Tech’s snippiness, you’d had enough, and had begun avoiding him entirely. You were starting to feel irritated knowing that you caused whatever his issue was, but the rest of the squad was taking the brunt of Tech’s anger, and overhearing his conversation with Echo pushed you over the edge. You needed to end this.

Everyone else was out to restock supplies, leaving just you and Tech left on the ship as he worked on repairs. You sat quietly, working on your data pad, nerves starting to get the better of you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tech called your name from the cockpit.

“Y-yeah?” you stuttered.

“I could use an extra set of hands,” he replied easily.

When you entered the cockpit, Tech was sprawled out underneath the control panel, arms elbow deep in the inner workings of the Marauder.

“How can I help?” you asked.

“Well, you can start by getting down here; you’re of no use to me up there,” he said. He thought he said it jokingly. You thought he was snapping at you.

“There’s no call to be rude,” you muttered under your breath, but still plopped down on the floor next to Tech, who scowled at the misunderstanding.

“Now, I cannot let go of these wires here, so you need to take the shrink tubing and put it in place on the other end so that when I reconnect the wires, they will hold in place,” he explained.

You sighed quietly. You’d have to lay on the floor next to him. As you do so, you catch Tech watching you from the corner of his eye. Or at least you thought you did, the moment was so quick. You look under the panel, seeing the parts he was talking about. You picked a piece of shrink tubing up, placing it between your lips so you didn’t lose it. You had to scoot closer to Tech to reach the panel, damn his long arms. The top of your head was inches from his temple now as you scowled up into the machinery. You swear you felt his gaze on you as you worked in the panel. No doubt he had a criticism of your technique or a more efficient way of doing the simple task.

Tech’s mind was running. She agreed to help him, despite the cold shoulder you had recently been giving him. Did that mean you had forgiven him? Could you possibly feel for him as he did for you? No. He refused to let his hopes get the better of him. Yet, here he was, watching you assist him with repairs, laying so close to him, and he couldn’t help but think perhaps the two of you were on a better path. I can fix this, he thought. Perhaps I still have a chance with her.

“Okay, I’ve got the tubing in place. What now?” you asked. When the clone so close to you didn’t respond, you turned your head to meet his eye, almost jumping when you realized he was facing you as well. It took him a moment to come out of whatever stupor he’d found himself in.

Tech shook his head, kicking himself for missing a single word that fell from your lips, a slight blush threatening to creep up from his neck. “Apologies, could you repeat what you said?” 

You huffed a little before repeating your request for the next step. 

“Right,” Tech flustered, going back to working rather than daydreaming about you, feeling his ears go red. 

The two of you worked in tandem, Tech providing instruction on occasion. It was…nice. A little awkward, but nice. Being in such close proximity to a man you were sure hated you was starting to wear on your nerves, so as soon as the four-handed repair was finished, you quickly got up from your spot on the floor, brushing yourself off and beginning to walk away.

Tech panicked internally. “Where are you going?” he asked, sliding out from underneath the panel and sitting up to look at you.

You eyed him suspiciously. “I was going to go for a walk to stretch my legs a little.”

“I see,” he said, looking down at his datapad for a moment before looking back up. “The list of necessary repairs are finished, so I will accompany you.” His heart was pounding in his chest, and he silently thanked the stars for Hunter’s absence. 

“That’s…unnecessary,” you uttered, choosing your words carefully.

“Do not be ridiculous,” insisted Tech. “You are a civilian and this planet is unfamiliar. If you were to run into trouble, you may not be able to protect yourself. It is inadvisable to go alone.”

“Oh, am I ridiculous now?” you fumed. This was the straw that broke the eopie’s back. “And helpless? You’ll have to add those to your list.”

Tech felt like he was experiencing whiplash. “My list?”

“I heard you talking to Echo last night,” you barked. “When he asked you about me you told him that I’m ‘hard-headed’ and ‘inappropriate’. That I’m ‘nosy’, my ‘mind is too high in the clouds’.”

“That’s not- I did not mean-” Tech sputtered, realizing he was rapidly falling into a hole he wasn’t sure how to get out of. 

“‘Didn’t mean it’? Sure,” you spat, spinning on your heel and rushing out of the ship, begging that he couldn’t see the tears streaming from your eyes.

–––––

“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” Hunter demanded.

“She overheard part of my conversation with Echo last night,” Tech replied miserably. You were gone. He’d spent the last hour out searching for you in the jungle that surrounded the ship, but you had turned your comm off.

“The conversation we had last night? You told me you were in love with her,” Echo said, hoping to sooth his bespectacled brother. “Surely she couldn’t be angry about that?”

“She must have left before that,” lamented Tech. His leg was bouncing rapidly as he held his head in his hands. 

“Where are you going?” Echo asked as Hunter turned towards the ship’s door.

“To find the civilian journalist we’re supposed to be protecting,” he hummed, stepping out of the ship.

Hunter could see the traces of you as you’d hurried away from the protection of the Marauder; a few footsteps here, a trace of your scent there, recently broken branches and kicked up leaves. It didn’t take him long to find the small alcove you’d found in the side of a steep, rocky hill that overlooked a river.

He approached you wordlessly, making sure to allow his steps to be quite louder than he typically would - he didn’t want to frighten you, after all.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you simply stayed in the position in which he’d found you; your knees pulled up towards your chest, leaning against the cool rock, eyes staring blankly over the river. The two of you sat there in silence; you were replaying the last few days in your head on an endless repeat, he was attempting to find something, anything to say. 

After a few more beats of simple quiet, you both started to speak, breaking off mid-word to allow the other to talk first.

“We haven’t talked about ourselves much, have we? I mean our lives before the war.”

You shook your head. It had always seemed like a sensitive topic, so you’d never pushed it. 

“Our ‘childhood’,” he started, throwing up a set of air quotes. “If you could call it that, well, it wasn’t happy. You know we’re different from the other clones. Well, somehow, the regs didn’t take kindly to that. Most of them anyway. We were outcasts, and before Echo, it was just the four of us. That’s all we ever had, and all we ever needed.

“And then there were the Kaminoans. They were…diligent…in our training. Putting us through exercises the regs didn’t have to. They separated us a lot. I was the leader and they wouldn’t let me anywhere near my brothers during the tests. We were all treated terribly by the Kaminoans, but Tech, he had it the worst. He doesn’t sleep much because they used to keep him awake for days, poking at him, prodding him, pushing him to know more, do more, remember more. He never told us much about the tests. I think he didn’t want to worry us.

“One day he came back to the barracks covered in these little marks. His goggles were broken. He stayed in bed for hours, not moving, just staring at the wall. Then he finally got up, started moving around like a droid. Eventually, he came across a piece of chalk. He started writing on the walls. It was like he was in a trance.”

Hunter’s voice turned dark, his face showing an extreme mixture of disgust, anger, worry. “He was making a blueprint of the suit the Kaminoans were using to train him. It covered his full body with little bits of metal over his pressure points. It was wired to connect to his nervous system. They used it to monitor his emotions, mostly. When he would get excited, they would electrocute him. If he started to fall behind or fall asleep, or if he got overwhelmed. He was in that suit for nearly three days before he finally got sent back to the barracks.

“He refused to show any emotion, even after we graduated and were deployed into the field, for such a long time. If we were all talking, telling stories, laughing, he would just be sitting there. Eventually, the longer we were away from Kamino, he would show little hints that he was still human, like the tiniest bit of a smile. He’d crack jokes. He would get frustrated or angry more often than anything else, though. Those were easier, I guess.

“When Echo joined us, he came to me one night. He said there was something wrong with him, but he didn’t know what. He was shaking uncontrollably, flinching at small noises and his own words. By the time I finally figured out the cause, he was nearly unconscious, basically sleep talking. I don’t know if he really even remembers that night.”

You were stuck silent. 

“All that to say, he has trouble, more so than the rest of us. He still doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. It was bred out of him. He was scared when Echo joined us because he was worried that it would change the dynamic of our squad. He was worried that with Echo’s experience and scomp, he’d be replaced. It took a lot of time and a few missteps, but now they’re practically inseparable.. When you joined us, it was easier for him. You’re not meant to be a permanent fixture, so to him, it’s easier not to get attached. But he did.”

“He…got attached?” you gasped.

“I probably shouldn’t say, but he fell for you. Hard,” Hunter smirked. “The second you smiled at him the day we met you, heh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard his heart beat so loud.”

You felt your face flush and you swallowed hard.

“What I’m trying to ask of you is that you be patient with him. He’s still learning to feel, to act with more than his head.”

“That night…around the fire. What were you saying?”

“Hmm?”

“You were all talking in Mando’a. What were you saying?”

Hunter chuckled. “Well, I was trying to give him a push. He was jealous that you were talking to Wrecker and Echo, but didn’t understand why. ‘Course Crosshair had to start teasing him. That night, he told me ‘kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la’. Almost couldn’t believe he’d even actually said it.”

You looked at Hunter, confusion plain on your face. He grinned and shook his head. “He said you’re very clever,” he chuckled. “And beautiful’.”

“I’ve been so stupid,” you concluded after a few moments of sitting there, your cheeks flaming hot.

“You didn’t know and he’s still learning how to tell you. Just give him time, let him come to you.”

–––––

Hunter returned to the ship with you in tow just as the sun was beginning to set. Three of the squad started asking questions, arguing and teasing each other as you set foot in the ship once more. The presence of a certain set of eyes on you didn’t go unnoticed. 

With the rest of the squad distracted, you sat down near him at his place at the small table.

“Hi,” you nearly whispered, feeling like you were shrinking into the seat.

Tech’s eyes didn’t leave you, even as he said nothing.

“Hunter told me about- well, a little bit- I mean, I couldn’t have- I didn’t know-” you stumbled along trying to find what you were trying to say.

“I meant everything I said last night to Echo,” he asserted. “You are nosy, stubborn, and inappropriate.”

You stared at the table in front of you.

“But Echo helped me realize why you frustrate me so. You are curious, that’s why you seemed nosy. Your will is made of durasteel. You are colorful and wild. You are so similar to myself, yet so different,” he explained. “He helped me come to the logical conclusion after you’d stopped listening.”

“What is the logical conclusion?” you asked, finally looking back at him. His eyes were starry as he looked at you. Despite all knowledge, all fact, all reason, to him you had created the universe for him to explore.

He fidgeted a little, but never took his eyes from hers. “Ni copad kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare, meh gar kelir duumir ni.”

The room fell silent, save for the loud and steady pounding of two hearts. His brothers watched him in awe, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“What does that mean?” you whispered as he inched closer to you.

“I wish to know you forever, beloved, if you will allow me,” he whispered back, eyes finally dropping from yours to take your hand between his. 

“Please, cyare, tell me you feel the same?” he pleaded. 

“Tech,” you smiled, using your free hand to cup his cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Neither of you knew who closed the gap, but the kiss felt like a revelation. All the misunderstandings, the confusion, the pain, it was all a distant memory. Vaguely, you could hear the hoots and hollers of the brothers behind you, but that didn’t bother you. 

Tech was the first to break the kiss, standing, and pulling you with him.

“Where are you going?” one of the boys called after the pair of you.

“To make up for lost time,” Tech shouted back, closing the door to the cockpit after pulling you through.

Thanks for reading! - River

Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on Ao3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[mercilessmercurialmess]

Yes the thumbnail is clickbait, because I want you to appreciate the surprising quality of this game. Lemme explain....

[magooey]

kiss kiss!

https://picrew.me/image_maker/400146

[corvidaenightcrawler]

BOOM! New personal tag!! Anytime I'm the op of a post it'll have these emojis in the tags: 🦇🫀

And my tag for things related to my collections and bones will be: 🦷

And at last, I finally have a queue tag: Ne'er queue well

[krisrix]

WOWZA

Unfinished stuff

[mercilessmercurialmess]

Fears to Fathom is such a great indie horror series, and I am always genuinely surprised at how effectively it handles simple stories and scares. Lemme explain why I think "Home Alone" is so interesting, despite (or because of) a distinct repetition of Lasagna.

[magooey]

yeah exactly

https://picrew.me/image_maker/362653

[quicklive-blog1]

hp printer support

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Quick Live Support

[all-cursed]

& & an open starter for CROW REDWOLF

      ❝ With time, you can get used to anything. ❞

      There was more than one reason for that statement, and more than one personal experience hidden within the words, but Crow kept those to himself and focused instead on the situation at hand. It certainly wasn’t easy for life to change so much so quickly - especially not for folks who hadn’t ever really experienced a big change in general before - but it wasn’t the end of the world like they seemed to think. (Most likely anyway.) 

[krisrix]

“...everything you create with your own hands contributes to this world and makes someone’s day.“

Happy birthday, rosebud boy! 🌹

Strap yourselves in, this could get sappy.

I can't even begin to tell you how much this book changed me. It has and continues to bring magic into my world and makes me smile when I'm having a bad day. It's been with me on holidays and interviews and on various long train journeys. It was there for me to come home to during my darkest times, my happiest times, my coming out, my exam stresses and now during this pandemic.

And this fandom. This weird little family. Wow. I love each and every one of you so much. The fics, art, metas, discussions and more just keep renewing my love for this book again and again. No matter how many notes or followers you have, remember that EVERYTHING you create with your own hands contributes to this world and makes someone's day. So thank you.

@vkelleyart @subpar-selkie @adamarks @theflyingpeach @motherscarf @f-ing-ruthless-baz @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @parijpg @dancingwdinosaurs @bazzledazzlepitches @basic-banshee @krisrix @thehoneyedhufflepuff @caitybuglove23 @myartylittlesecret @the-pandora-jar @cynopoe @neck-mole @penpanoply @pipsqueakparker @pitchpatronus plus a load of over people who I've inevitably missed (I'm sorry!), you're all absolutely AMAZING!

I hope you all have an amazing day full of love, scones and most of all, magic. ✨

You may CARRY ON (😉😉 I had to) with your day. Have a good one, everyone!!

Niamh x 🐟

[dangraccoon]

Jari'eyc - Chapter 9

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: loss of consciousness, major character death, discussion of inhibitor chips and mind control experiments, reference to past child abuse, grief and loss, imprisonment, torture, The Girls Are Fighting

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“The Empire is looking for us,” Crosshair rasped, tears dripping down his face more freely than Tech had seen them in a long time. He clung to Tech’s arm as if he were a lifeboat. “Th-they’re killing her to get to us. Mar'eyir kaysh, Tad’ika.” [Find her, Little Two.]

Runi had taken up a place at his side once he passed out, keeping a check on his vitals with Wrecker keeping a watch over both. Tech had noted Sinya pulling Hunter by the arm into the medbay. The doors hadn’t opened since and Tech decided he wasn’t going to risk opening them.

Echo had offered to help him sort through the data he’d been pulling from the Empire’s databanks. Fives and Omega had offered their assistance as well, but had fallen asleep about an hour ago, Omega leaning against her newfound brother.

Echo had just thrown a blanket over the pair when the console chirped.

“Has the new set finished decrypting?” he asked, coming to look over Tech’s shoulder.

Tech nodded, fingers dancing across the buttons and eyes scanning the information rapidly.

Tech was starting to believe this set wouldn’t have her information either when Echo nearly shouted “there”.

Tech opened her personnel file, her image attached at the top. She looked so tired. Her eyes were cold and empty, seemingly half-lidded permanently. The white streak in her hair was stark against the rest. Her mouth was fixed in a straight line, missing all hint of the pull upwards it used to have. The image sent a shiver down Tech’s spine.

He read down into the file. It showed him the missions she’d been assigned, locations, dates, objectives. And at the very bottom was a report from an Imperial Officer.

Tech opened the report, both he and Echo letting out little gasp at the words written across the top.

“Status: Killed in Action”

“Kriff,” Echo cursed behind him, hand running over the short thatch of curls that had finally begun to regrow over his scalp.

Tech scowled at the report. Hadn’t the Chromira shown Crosshair that Jaine was alive? It wouldn’t make sense to show him images of the past. 

“What about the curse? She could still be alive, couldn’t she?” Echo and Tech’s heads turned quickly toward Omega, who was removing herself from the tight embrace of Fives.

“How do you know about that?” Echo asked, kneeling down next to her.

“It was in a report someone gave Nala Se,” she shrugged. “It came in after you all left for Felucia.”

Echo and Tech exchanged a look. 

“Nala Se read the report and then asked the Prime Minister for an urgent meeting. Then once Jaine woke up, Nala Se ordered…”

“Ordered what, ‘Mega?” Echo asked.

Omega’s hands were shaking slightly. “They did a– an experiment on her,” she mumbled, her expression turning to a mix of fear and anger. “They put a chip in.”

“A chip?” Echo repeated, nervously glancing at Fives, thankful that he was still asleep. “Like the inhibitor chips?”

Omega nodded and Echo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d be holding. “It didn’t work right at first, so they had to condition her. That’s where she got those scars and why her hair turned white.”

Tech felt sick, guilt twisting his stomach into knots. Behind his eyes he saw flashes of his own ‘conditioning’, but he pushed the foul memories to the side. He couldn’t shut down now.

“It wasn’t her?” Echo whispered, his widened eyes finding Tech. “None of it was her.”

—

Crosshair woke up with his head pounding and his entire body sore. He sat up and looked around. He definitely wasn’t on the Marauder. No, this place was too cold, literally and figuratively. A shiver ran down his back. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around his body. He could feel his hands shaking. Wait, his hands? No, these were someone else’s hands. 

He realized a moment later that he wasn’t in control of this body; he was merely a passenger. 

The person reached up to massage their neck at the point that was hurting most. Crosshair noted the knots of scar tissue beneath their touch.

They sighed, reaching up to pull their hair forward, beginning to braid some of the long crimson hair. Crosshair could feel something emanating deep within their soul; an intense pleading for help.

The pieces came together. Red hair, blaster scar on the neck. This was Jaine’s body he was in. 

“Up,” a stormtrooper ordered, opening the laser gate. Despite the resentment that boiled in her chest, she stood without hesitation, holding her arms out for the binders. 

The pair of troopers led her through the facility past numerous cells of clones. He could feel her guilt at not being able to help them. She glanced up at one cell in particular as they approached it. 

“Wait,” she whispered, her movement stilling as her heart dropped into her gut. “Where’s Fluke?”

One of the stormtroopers hit her shoulder with the butt of his gun. “Keep walking.”

She turned to face him. “Where’s CT-5121?” she growled.

“Went last night,” rasped the clone - Sig, she remembered - in the cell across from the one that used to hold Fluke.

Crosshair could feel the deep sorrow in Jaine’s heart and the tear that fell down her cheek. 

“Good morning, Jaine,” that woman, Doctor Karr, said as the gate opened. “How are you feeling today?”

Jaine didn’t answer. Merely allowing herself to be pushed onto the table and secured in place. 

“I’d like to offer you an opportunity,” Karr said, looking up from her datapad. “Answer the question and we don’t have to go through any of the pain.”

Jaine swallowed, her throat dry. “What question?”

“How do we find Clone Force 99?”

Crosshair felt her hesitation, before she finally answered. 

“Who?”

—

Hunter wasn’t sure exactly what was happening if he were to be completely honest. He probably should be anxious and on edge. He probably should be worried sick about Crosshair. He probably should have some kind of feelings about the possibility that Jaine wasn’t truly in control of herself when she’d attacked them.

But he didn’t really feel any of that. He was a little nervous, concerned for his brother, and a little more compassionate for their former medic, but none of that was at the forefront, and wasn’t even really what he was focused on at the moment. No, he was focused on the woman sitting in front of him. He’d lost track of what she was talking about a few minutes ago, but he smiled and nodded when it seemed appropriate. He did note there was an odd… heat in his chest.

“Hunter?” Sinya said, tapping his arm. “You okay?”

He shook his head a little, trying desperately to ignore the buzz of electricity that flooded his body, originating from her hand. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

Sinya giggled. “It didn’t matter.”

She smiled at him and he realized he’d probably do anything if it just meant he’d get to see that smile again. Her smile reminded him of the first time he’d seen starlight. 

A sharp pang hit his heart. 

Did I make Jaine feel like this? He thought. Is that why she called me ‘Starlight’?

“Hunter,” Tech called from the suddenly open door of the medbay. 

Hunter hoped Tech didn’t notice the way he and Sinya sprung away from each other. He hadn’t realized they’d been so close. 

“What is it, Tech?”

Tech eyed him suspiciously. Of course he noticed. “Crosshair is awake. He would like to speak with us.”

Hunter nodded, turning to give an apology to Sinya, who shooed him off with a “go”.

By the time Hunter arrived in the bunk rooms, Crosshair was sitting up on the edge of the bunk and Runi was still fussing over his vitals, despite the annoyance written plainly on his face. After another moment she gave up with a huff, rolling her eyes when she saw the smug look on his face. She muttered something violent about that expression as she passed him. 

Omega ran into the room, practically launching herself at Crosshair. “You’re okay!”

“I told you he would be,” Tech pointed out. “And I am seldom wrong.”

Crosshair and Omega rolled their eyes in unison. 

“What’s going on, Crosshair?” Echo said, trying to hide a smirk.

Crosshair glanced briefly at Omega before looking at the rest of them. “Jaine… won’t be telling the Empire how to find us,” he sighed, hating the way his voice shook. The air in the ship seemed to still. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” Omega asked, looking worriedly up at Crosshair.

“Yeah,” Wrecker nodded. “If she doesn’t tell ‘em anything about us then we can surprise ‘em when we go rescue her!”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed on his youngest brother. He could hear Crosshair’s rapid heartbeat, despite the measured breaths he was taking. “What aren’t you saying?”

His intense gaze locked onto Hunter’s. “She can’t tell the Empire about us because she doesn’t remember who we are.”

The room went still as the weight of Crosshair’s statement settled over the squad.

“How could she just forget us?” Omega asked, her eyes welling up. “After everything that’s happened…”

Tech knelt down next to her. “It is not her fault, Omega,” he said. “Part of her curse is that she forgets things that are important to her each time she comes back. More often than not, it is people she cares about.”

“That- that’s not fair,” Omega whispered. 

“You’re right,” Crosshair assured her. “But that’s why she had people like Sinya to help her remember.”

Omega scowled, but looked up at Hunter. “We have Sinya with us. We can go and save her and then Sinya can help her remember, right?”

Hunter sighed. His chest felt heavy. “It’s not that simple,” he explained. “Breaking someone out of Imperial custody would be tricky and we don’t even know where she’s being held, not to mention that we’d be walking right into the hands of the Empire.”

“But–”

“No, Omega. We can’t go after her; it’s too risky.”

Omega scowled up at him before storming out of the room. 

“She would do it for us,” Crosshair hissed. “We always said we’d never leave our own behind.”

“And we haven’t,” Hunter growled. “She spent months trying to kill us–”

“That was not her fault,” Tech interjected. “We have learned that there was a chip implanted in her brain when she was on Kamino without us, after which she was put through intense conditioning.”

Hunter didn’t listen. He couldn’t. “Chip or not, she doesn’t even know who we are! For all we know she could hate all clones now and try to kill us the moment she sees us anyway.”

Crosshair spoke up. “She doesn’t. I don’t know who he was or what he meant to her, but she just grieved one called Fluke.”

“How do you know that?” Echo asked.

Crosshair glanced between Hunter and Tech. “I-I could feel it. It was like I was in her body. It was… strange. I didn’t hear the Chromira-”

“The who?” Echo and Wrecker asked simultaneously.

“And it didn’t feel like when she talked to me before,” he finished, crossing his arms. “It almost felt like- like it was Jaine who was reaching out to me.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

[mercilessmercurialmess]

It's rare to get a really good "rural horror" and one that has a ton of goats who AREN'T explicitly villains. Lemme tell you about it.

[tillerman1]

TORMENT [to the word] pt.3

PIPPI : See me VET to of calls myself Pippi. That is a good name. I vet teachers who have considerably uglier names…

Sandman becomes brutally snatched from their studies.

PIPPI : Horn Sandman, strike back the Greek. Sit don't and read in the next hour's lesson on my lesson and believe above all not that I am so senile that I don't see him.

Pippi goes down to class from the chair, takes out a paper -

PIPPI : This here essay-made contains two real splendor-flowers. The one is Grönstrand papa till.

Grönstrand's pimpled, sad face -

PIPPI : He writes: The nomadic Lapp population stays ne'er long in a sure place.

Merriment in the class. Pippi laughs with -

PIPPI : Sandman is one indecent man and rolls to among gangster and bad women in the free the subject in a mixture of Maupassant and Zola. He writes… But what is it with Mr. Widgren…

Jan-Erik is right sweaty in the face and presents all sign of high-degree nausea -

JAN - ERIK (gets forward): Mayst I get go home.

Pippi will forward till it –

PIPPI : Yes, certainly! How is the injury?[?] Dear someone then. Is he very sick?

Jan-Erik travels himself and goes out from some room. Closes the door.

JAN - ERIK : Refusal then, I feel badly only. Jan-Erik goes along one long far corridor. He disappears longer and longer away. At the end of the corridor falls it down faint.

Dad, mother Widgren cum the doc comes just out of Jan-Erik's room.

THE FATHER : I can really not comprehend how HE can be overworked. He has not worked so particularly much over last time.

The doctor. He picks up smoke and kindles -

THE DOCTOR : The school… the school. Nah. There occur well other than school. Or be that not that, the bureau director?

THE FATHER : How means the doctor?

DOKTORN : Yes, no naught particularly. It can incidentally very well be the school. Blue tap is not only the road to corrupt health.

The three casts themselves down. The doctor prepares himself to take up his darling subject –

THE DOCTOR : One boy came till I for he wet in bed over the night. He had become hard when death-frightened by his history teacher… Is man doctor mayst man view a strange downside of the school. Scrawny and overgrown individuals, slanted and squint, spindly, malnourished, overworked. Sunken chest, weary-leewards eyes, anemia cum till and of distorted sex.

The small doctor gets all eager. He rises upward from the chair and wanders around -

THE DOCTOR : But is it so strange actually(.)[?] Think of the school buildings(,)[;] I mean the old venerable and traditional learning plants. Old dirt holes. And the syllabi. Is it wise and sensible to keep a young human fast on its tail from bell eight on mornings till four in the afternoon and THEN homework(.)[?] The courses will more expensive and more expensive and the teachers will special - and compartment-idiots, so would the boys learn themselves all as required became the queue on some asylum.

The father has vainly tried (to) insert a word here and there -

THE DOCTOR : But so stupid are they not, the adolescents. No, they do as good they can of till help of miscellaneous thief- and rack-game, which they consider last fully justified from the viewpoint that the school's control system is as it is. For to not talk about the penal system.

That youth is as resilient as they are attributes I a surely developed lazy mask.

The agency director gets now an awl in the weather and exclaims, slightly indignant –

THE FATHER : The doctor considers thus that cheating and truancy cum other fraud is fully justified.

THE DOCTOR : No(,) take me seventeen if I consider so. Yet self says I ashamed on old the school that spreading out carpets over the shortcuts as called cheating and truancy.

The doctor initiates go to out in the hall for that take on to coat, but the agency director want doesn't drop the threads –

THE FATHER : Young people should learn themselves know hut. [note: "know hut" means manners]

THE DOCTOR : Think just the same. But I allow I doubt to current methods. Both coddling and raw drawing. It should seventeen be pedagogue. Incidentally round the older and younger generation would something smaller death-terrified for each other think me it would be considerably better.

The doctor shakes suddenly cum preoccupied, pressing hand with the parents –

THE DOCTOR : Treat hand of the boy something now. And let one lie one day in quiet and tranquility. He looks me out as one such there as wants solve the world's mystery with more. Awful hotly - and windy. Yes!

He nods yet one time. Out.

Jan-Eriks face. He lies with closed eyes. He stirs himself restless, mumbles something.

The door opens cum Caligula comes in.

He stays quietly inside the door.

Jan-Erik travels himself with stretched hands as one blind. He looks frightened out. He stares at Caligula.

Caligula walks quietly closer and puts himself on the chair at the bed.

Jan-Erik penetrates himself up against the wall. Shakes on the head. Caligula opens mouth, puts the stylus on Jan-Erik's neck cum says calmly -

CALIGULA : Abelativus absolutus. ["A relative absolute"]

Jan-Erik sinks together in senseless fear.

In through the door comes Bertha. She goes forward till the bed.

BERTHA : You hold so much of me. Do you not. I am so scared, dear! You may never go from me, never. Help us. Help me only. (she whispers)

Jan-Erik stretches arms towards her. Screams, but it becomes like a whisper -

JAN - ERIK : Bertha! Bertha!! BERTHA !!!

Caligula bends himself down over Jan-Erik.

CALIGULA : I must kill you[,] Mr. Widgren. You are too ignorant of the dead languages. But that death should you can become more which home ...

Caligula raises the stylus and directs that against Jan-Erik's eye. Bertha appears in one horror distorted position.

A splitter-sounding of glass shards in thousands.

Jan-Erik wakes, TERRIBLE sweaty, excited cum says something that really not hear till the sake –

JAN - ERIK : Bertha… BERTHA!

Home at Bertha.

A hand that puts down a glass of cognac. Bertha sitter the crawl up on her couch in morning rock. She stares at the man middle opposite her. It is dead quiet in some room.

She looks as hypnotized ahead herself. And follows the history mimic -

CALIGULA : Yes, you have guessed right the right. I am much afraid. Air brain, where the sitter one small white burning stain thinking out disgusting cases and I will (be) ever (most) afraid myself. So when I turned on the power switch for that scare you…

The low toneless, absolutely indifferent voice ends.

Some cognac glass.

A hand, deformed by a large scar, takes it and hands it to Bertha -

CALIGULA : Should you none have some cognac.

Bertha takes towards the outstretched glass, which rattles against her teeth.

She drinks from it.

The hands.

Tempo furioso.

They touch to incessantly, violently speaking, pantomime.

CALIGULA: I have known death's fear one time in my life. It was a cat… funny! I have always liked if cats. Outside a house sat a large cat and sunbathed himself. I went forward till it. Talked kindly to it. It stroked to against me and span. I bent myself down and stroked it along the back.

Per even bit it me in one hand. They slog like that knot in it. It settled all twenty claws in my hand. Hanged itself fast on it. Drilled in the teeth to it. It became with even so big…

Bertha's face. She is disgusted, fascinated -

CALIGULA: I set aside never my panic fear. I think I screamed. Vet you what I did… I stopped down the cat and the hand and the arm in a water barrel that stood there. The cat had locked itself in cramp.

It drowned only released not the grip… a doctor got cut loss it.

See, I have the mark yet… See… see how I look outward.

Bertha crawls together.

BERTHA: No… I want not.

But against her want looks it at the battered hand that stretched towards her.

Caligula travels to, goes forward to the bed cum holding her if shoulder cum twists her against it.

CALIGULA: So should Man be… Bite the fast. Don't drop bite. Bite don't I so bite you, therefore bites me first…

The street outside the Widgrenska house. Bertha stands across opposite the sidewalk. It is morning. From the port comes Jan-Erik. It blows violently.

He walks up the street pretty fast as would it late. Bertha hurries to after him.

She time in cap him cum both stays. Bertha is profoundly upset but trying (to) master herself. –

BERTHA: Forgive me, that I will so here.

JAN-ERIK: For all share.

BERTHA: I must get speak to you.

JAN-ERIK: It can go for himself.

He begins to go quickly. Bertha half-jumps wide at him.

BERTHA: You get not speak to me as if you would angry with me.

JAN-ERIK: I am angry with you. And I want nothing throw to do with you. Got remember there. And try to understand that too.

He walks from her.

Bertha stands left and looks after him. Then turns she herself round, but at like moment popping Caligula up as from the ground.

Caligula walks straight past her without that take any that especially notice of her. At the close of the street disappear it around a corner.

Caligula has time upward Jan-Erik. He walks in width with him. Jan-Erik greet something clumsy when he discovers who it is -

JAN-ERIK: Hello.

CALIGULA: Good morning Widgren.

It sounds unusually convivial.

Caligula has also brought a convivial facial wrinkle -

CALIGULA: How feels it presently then? You became the ...

JAN-ERIK: Thank great.

It becomes silent. But Caligula looks don't out to want end the conversation.

New street.

They have not said anything for a while. So –

CALIGULA: Well, you know the girl in the tobacco affair. Very surely perchance?

JAN-ERIK: No.

He looks searching on Caligula.

CALIGULA: Not (at) all?

JAN-ERIK: Some.

Quiet again.

CALIGULA: Is she one real fine girl intrinsically?

Jan-Erik looks out like if he tried recalling himself something –

JAN-ERIK: That vet I don't. How so?

CALIGULA: Jäh (gesture). (pause) There are only some but left now. Let me see: sex till you shall up. (pause) Sad with the round heat. The tar one must watch us all. And the wind. (short pause). To the hold on so here all the time troth.

Jan-Erik tiger.[? possibly "Jan-Erik remains quiet"] The wind howls and river in with a huge lady cloud just round the corner.

Home in Jan-Erik in his austere small study chamber. The window stands open. But now is the quiet against before the permanent whistling. The curtain hangs slack. There is a thick cloud wall over the house opposite. It is evening.

Jan-Erik at the desk with the Latin grammar spread out in front of him. Jan-Erik at some desktop with the Latin grammar open before himself. He writes on a paper: VOLO, NOLO, MALO, CUPIO, JUBEO, STUDEO. {FLY, REFUSE, WISH, INCLINE, JUDGE, STUDENT.}

He is sweaty in the face and takes the paper knife and cools the forehead.

Then he gets up and goes to the water carafe, pours up water. Drinks. Then comes he and takes his hat, throws it again.

He walks front till the bed, puts himself on it. Drills in the knuckles against the eyes. Sitting so one while. Traveling to so again.

He walks a stroke over some floor. So treats it cap again. He takes up his got comb and smooths till hair before the mirror. He looks led and disgusted out.

A deserted street in a strangely surreal evening lighting. Some people hurry forward along the house walls.

A long[,] narrow, narrow street, as before. Jan-Erik comes walking fast.

Bertha's house.

He goes in through the port.

He knocks on the door. Nobody answers.

When recalling it to the key and begins forage for it in the pockets. Finds it. Puts it in the lock and uncaps.

As it is overcast obscures it right strong inside of the hall. He walks through it in on some room.

He stops. Almost naked is Bertha in a funny position on the bed with the knees hunched under the chin. In the twilight looks her sleeping outward. The room looks out as plain as when as on magical shadows up to the ceiling, figures and glare in a flask and wash glass, the street lamp's indirect light.

Jan-Erik walks some steps over some floor. He looks out like if he figured leave her in peace to sleep intoxication off herself. Somewhat misguided.

Now seems it that Bertha's right arm, one she is on, sticks out like a bowsprit with sprawling fingers.

Jan-Erik walks slowly forward to the bed. He stands some moment right still. So takes he her quickly with that only the shoulder. But he pulls flash-quickly back the hands again. Bertha overturns on even down for back. The head comes to hang outside the bed edge, dangling. She is dead.

Jan-Erik screams over, uncontrolled cum backs back some steps. Pushes over a chair. Standing as still again, staring at the dead. Among the silence includes sudden a slight scraping sound. Then becomes that quiet again.

Jan-Erik looks himself around. Then runs it out into the kitchenette. Nothing.

Through the room again out into the hall. There is it dark. Looks himself around. May see something. Under the coat hanger among coats, frocks cum other appears a human being has hidden one.

Jan-Erik goes back and drags away the clothes. He gets off to a half shout.

There, hidden among the clothes, sitter Caligula, white in the face, sweaty, disheveled without glasses. He stares with despair's horror at Jan-Erik and whispers again unto again similar thing like a parrot -

CALIGULA: I have not done it … I have not done it … I have not done it … Self promises, promises …

Jan-Erik grips of panic and rushes from there, get after some difficulty up the first door. Outside brights the stairway light. He runs only his way and forgetful's close the door after one.

So hears Caligulas voice low, whispering -

CALIGULA: He reports me … he reports me.

He travels to from his corner and goes in at the room. Strides forth till the telephone. Stares at Bertha, crossbars the zero: the police.

CALIGULA: The police.

Ambulance and police car at rapid howling trip through streets.

The cars stop outside Bertha's house. From all corners, from all keep coming the folk that sets themselves to stare.

Caligula is himself in the open door, near the cops coming up the stairs –

CALIGULA: I have not done it … I have not done it.

The police station.

Caligula. He is violently frantic. The commissar tries to calm him –

CALIGULA: I have not done it …I have not …

THE COMMISSAR: The lecturer may be kind to calm himself something now. I can none release you before the doctor has rung and confirmed the death's cause.

CALIGULA: Well, that is why not wise… I am why no criminal. Think you that I am that?

The commissar walks around the table forward till Caligula, taking him on the shoulders cum push down it in a chair.

THE COMMISSAR: Sit presently here and calm you. It is why only a pro forma thing.

CALIGULA: I have why never done a fly for when… I am so scared…

Caligula shoots out the head at the commissar (as against Jan-Erik) -

CALIGULA: I've been sick… you must not scare me like this. I get not… the doctor has said.

THE COMMISSAR: You can get lay you a while in of my room and try sleep.

It for in Caligula in his small room where there actually only is one bed with some blankets.

THE COMMISSAR: Lay you now and try and slept as announces us as soon the doctor's statement has arrived.

Caligula allows himself lays. Pulling the blanket up over his ears, turning towards the wall.

Drag the blanket up over some ears, turns himself towards the wall. He looks most insignificant and scared out. Sometimes jerks it till as in a sob or as if he froze.

Jan-Erik walks forth and back of his room. Forth and back. He puts to correct up and down on a chair and stares straight front himself -

JAN-ERIK: Bertha … poor … little …

Some mortuary.

Bertha covered just over and whisked away on a wagon. The doctor takes off himself the rubber gloves, talking to his assistant –

THE DOCTOR: She must have mismanaged herself awfully. Don't understand me what man can drink death herself, but it has she indeed done.

Offers colleague a cigarette. Both go towards the exit.

Them takes their coats.

THE ASSISTANT: Yes, it was the heart, weak before. Well … (gesture)

THE DOCTOR: So malnutrition and other more. Speaking, ring for seventeen the police, so the dissolute lecturer get go home and sleep…

The lecturer is as before with the face against the wall –

[This section was edited out of the film]

{CALIGULA'S VOICE (low): I must gather hop myself. I must become it I was … previously, before …

Caligula tries exclude memory –

CALIGULA: No, don't think about it. I must try bring discipline and order … discipline and order … I must find me myself (loud) Oh[,] devils' devils, why calling them not. Discipline and order, discipline and order.

The door opens, the commissioner sticks in the head, Caligula travels to terror at the elbow.

CALIGULA: What is it[,] commissioner?

THE COMMISSAR: The here lady …

CALIGULA: Yes, yes, she MAY well come in.

THE COMMISSAR: Get well that.

In comes presently aunt Elisabet. Mild, mild.

AUNT ELISABET: It was right that you called for me. I am so glad for that… My little boy.

She sets herself quietly on a chair. Caligula sits up. The sitter altogether silent either two. Aunt Elisabet takes his hand, caresses it –

AUNT ELISABET: I am not angry at you[,] my boy. … You will see we get it probably so good. We should stay together again… like before. Not alone. Not now anymore. Dear small boy.

Caligula's glasses-loose face.

Suddenly puts Caligula ones face in aunt Elizabet's lap. He moans himself low, pressed. But he cries doesn't.

CALIGULA: Assistance me! Assistance me. Why to everything be so this. I want the only be at peace…

AUNT ELISABET: And thou should live in small some room inside the hall, self to come in till you in the evenings and sit with you and talk. Everything should be as it was before.

Caligula boosts the head and looks at her and takes over her hands -

CALIGULA: Yes. Everything must be as it was before!

In same now calling it on the telephone at the expedition. Caligula sits himself up and stares at the door. Under the time heard the commissar's voice –

THE COMMISSAR: Yes… yes… no. Yes. Then releases we him well then… Well… Geez yes. Thanks cum good night.

The door goes up cum the commissar comes in. Caligula has rest himself and is up.}

THE COMMISSAR: Well, you can get going now, lecturer. That was well nice.

Caligula answers not. He takes forward one comb and combs himself carefully, silent.

Then takes it on oneself their glasses. Then straightens it on the tie and jacket. Travels without a word out in the expedition, takes on to cap and coat. Aunt Elisabet stands still and follows him with glances, tense.

He turns to measured till the commissar –

THE COMMISSAR: Goodbye then[,] lecturer, and forgive that we each had to do that here.

He stands silent a moment, then takes he the commissar's stretched hand, bows measured,

CALIGULA: Goodbye constable.

{She extends her hand after him and calls –

AUNT ELISABET (screams): Go none!

But the door slams again.

The principal looks indescribably concerned outward and stares after Caligula, then he turns and wanders out through the rector's expedition's door.

He takes the telephone and rings –}

THE RECTOR: Want Larsson last kind and retrieve Jan-Erik Widgren.

Jan-Erik Widgren comes in and stands before the rector, tired to the rupture limit.

The rector is diffuse, consequently that he thinks it all is unpleasant –

THE RECTOR: Yes, Widgren, this is a boring story there here. Your Latin teacher has been and talked with me just. I have noted his accusations, and you get freely say what you consider last justified and less justified in this here. Sit, sit[,] Widgren.

Widgren sits it. He looks out through the window, seems quite apathetic for that which proceeds.

The rector bends himself over some paper –

THE RECTOR: One morning meet your schoolfellow you together with one girl who called Bertha Olsson, she works in the tobacco affair here middle received. Then he knew that the girl none had the best reputation, sooner was ... hm ... so up searching he her for that ask her hand you, do final with you and preface her the wrong unto to have a relationship with a schoolboy.

Jan-Erik has gradually become more and more concerned from the story. Now harks it very attentively. He starts get angry –

THE RECTOR: She laughed out him, swore at him cum bar to over home taken badly at, sat and drank cognac.

Suddenly takes her to for heart and falls dead down.

The rector makes a short pause. He looks over the glasses at Jan-Erik, who none says something.

THE RECTOR: Just after, before he yet has recovered himself from the shock, comes you and opens with, after what he says, own key. You may see the dead girl and rush from there down to have accused him that have murdered her ... Yes, it was in brevity what the whole went out on.

It becomes silent the moment. Jan-Erik stands that paralyzed. The rector's fingers drum against some board.

JAN-ERIK: Believes the rector himself in all that there?

He rectifies himself. Staring at the papers.

THE RECTOR: I believe nothing. One wants say …

Jan-Erik attempts suppurate as calm and objective as possible –

JAN-ERIK: Yes, yes, that is true. I have been together with a girl, who perhaps not was so particularly decent.

The rector has rest himself and walks past Jan-Erik. Stops.

THE RECTOR: This fact plus your cheat is for attendant probably for that get you relegated. Understand you-all that?

JAN-ERIK: I vet that and self gives the cat in it.

The rector walks up till Smith, down to right front it –

THE RECTOR: But it is not only that, that is the question about. I would know if the others are true also. I mean… themselves some course.

JAN-ERIK: Well, the principal is not sure about it.

THE RECTOR: I'm praying that you answer off MY question and don't make any private reflections.

Jan-Erik.

He puts his hands on the back, bends himself something forward.

JAN-ERIK: I would be grateful if the principal repeated the question to the person who fabricated the accusation.

The rector barking just lit his cigar. Takes down it again, shakes of the head –

THE RECTOR: That want I don't (pause). It can I not (pause). Well, I SHOULD do it.

They fix each other a moment, then goes the rector till the telephone.

The rector and Jan-Erik stand with faces towards the door. Quiet a moment. Then knocks the two light blows.

THE RECTOR: Path in.

There delays some, then opens the door. Caligula enters. He is quiet and still. He smiles something, hardly noticeable. Not one muscle pipe to in his face.

The rector observes him tense, silent.

Jan-Erik also.

The rector again. He speaks in one icy cold business-like tone as allows understand his antipathy against the latin lector –

THE RECTOR: I would know if your accusation against Widgren is till all points oaths-terms truthful. He has sting us put that the question to you in his presence.

Caligula. He looks some moment first on the rector, then on Jan-Erik. Then comes it quickly –

CALIGULA: That should I have for provocation to lie.

The rector looks hastily down at their paper. He rancid himself uncomfortably affected. He had apparently not expected himself one such response.

Caligula again.

He stands still left at the door, something shy and faint-hearted. Quiet.

CALIGULA: My tasks mayst admittedly none checked, it is true. Certainly, certainly. But is it likely… For where would I have other than purely pedagogical motives to get Widgren separate from school.

The rector shrugs of the shoulders and looks something perplexed at Widgren. He should just come up talk –

THE RECTOR: Well… can we not try done out it for Widgren...

Then breaks Jan-Erik from him. It comes as one full explosion -

JAN-ERIK: Pedagogical motives…

The rector react terrified –

JAN-ERIK: … You took life from her.

Jan-Erik is furious, suddenly and without height, completely desperate –

JAN-ERIK (points): You! Scared death her, tormented life from her, drank her full, tormented, tormented her, as you plaguing me and all other you will at.

Jan-Erik stands presently right against Caligula.

CALIGULA: I protest against that …

Jan-Erik turns himself from the rector –

JAN-ERIK: You have scared till death. And if I'm to relegated so should he there expelled hundred times more, for what he made…. Your old man-wretch… And …

There knocks suddenly on the door. Without that awaiting answer sticking Pippi in the head and comes after a moment in whole and cohesive – –

PIPPI: Sorry to I bother, but …

The rector, he is irritated –

THE RECTOR: Want the lecturer anything?

Pippi is also confused, but it labeled to him that he would stay so gladly as he wants to live –

PIPPI: Refusal not precisely.

THE RECTOR: Then maybe you would wait out there some moment.

PIPPI: Well me …

THE RECTOR: Would you volition be kind and do it.

PIPPI: Shall well do it then.

Pippi turns the visible sad and walks out through the door.

When Pippi has gone out, beat the rector the fist on the table –

THE RECTOR: Now get we do end on this here. Widgren goes out and waits out where tills I'm stating till. [sic]

Caligula stands silent and pale. The twitching in corners as till one laugh.

Jan-Erik stands silent one moment, so walks it against the door, past Caligula, tight past. He stays at the door, turns to round, stares at Caligula. Caligula takes together hands and drags in the long fingers, so at forefinger. Staring past Jan-Erik. Jan-Erik becomes suddenly furious and beats Caligula middle in the face.

Suddenly throws to Jan-Erik over him, grabs him about the neck with your left hand, penetrates him up against the wall cum before the rector, who rushed forward, can prevent it bestows it him four hard fist punches in the face. Then release it him and stands like an idiot and stares. Caligula has failed down on a sofa, stunned.

The rector shakes Jan-Erik, angry -

THE RECTOR: Your young jubilation-idiot. Presently can I why not clear you. Your general ass. Shucks.

Jan-Erik makes himself free from the rector and goes out of the expedition. Closes the door.

The rector takes no notice of Caligula as seated and dries sin nose. He goes forth till his desk and puts to. Tired.

THE RECTOR: I wonder who as is the most guilty of gentlemen.

Caligula looks up indignantly –

CALIGULA: What MEAN you?

Their glances meet. Caligula bites to in the lip –

THE RECTOR: We come that forced till one justice murder, lecturer. The can well not avoids. For I can well not get you to hold in with your notification?

Caligula looks up. Then travels it to and walks towards the door.

CALIGULA: No.

Walks a bit, turns to round -

CALIGULA: To the may you-all me not!

[{added in film}THE RECTOR: Will you have it on your concience that you ruined the boy's future?]

Out through the door.

Jan-Erik goes over the schoolyard.

Some of his comrades come past him, half-running -

GRÖNSTRAND: Hurry up boy, we should away and try tangles. [sic]

JAN-ERIK: I need probably no tangle.

Far away in the school courtyard behind Widgren comes Pippi heady. He is breathless and excited. He shouts on the run –

PIPPI: Widgren! Widgren! Widgren!.

But Jan-Erik hears him not.

Bureau director Widgren dries his sweaty forehead. Through some hall's window lit the sun in red and mercilessly.

At the table stands Jan-Erik, he has head lowered and stares at the table's disc, drums with the fingers.

At the door stands the mother. She looks pale and sorry outward. She holds fast in a stool –

THE MOTHER: So have you not come till us the boy mine. Why have you not spoken about …

JAN-ERIK: Well … How …

He can not say something more. He is for {too} upset.

The father. He stops. He speaks calm and low-key –

THE FATHER: Expelled. Yes… it is as mother says. So have you not narrated.

JAN-ERIK: What would I have narrated?

The mother and the father look at each other. None are in stand to say anything.

The father. He puts himself on an uncomfortable, upright stool. Dries himself again in the face with a handkerchief.

THE FATHER: No… we needed well this here, mother and I, for we were so exorbitantly dumb and conceited. We thought… it makes the same incidentally.

Jan-Erik wreaks in with one certain irascibility. –

JAN-ERIK: Father can gladly say what Father means. You thought you would get exist proud over me… not true?

The father looks up. Then jerks it on the shoulders and beats out with the hands –

THE FATHER: We can not drive down us in the here now. Done is done. We must try to get through it, mother and I.

Jan-Erik breaks off. His voice has suddenly changed. He is mocking –

JAN-ERIK: You-all must surely TRY it well.

The father turns himself towards him. Lightning fast –

THE FATHER: What is this for the tone?

JAN-ERIK: It is YOU and YOU and you. YOU who are offended, and YOU who is betrayed cum YOU who will get through it. What! But what I have been with about, it gives you blank damn.

THE MOTHER: Jan-Erik!!

Jan-Erik walks towards the door –

JAN-ERIK: But I'm giving the cat in you and your sufferings. You touch myself don't, for you have never bothered you for me. I will not stay here. As avoid you see me and ashamed.

The father travels to up. Relatively quiet.

THE FATHER: Hear you, you are all very big in the gull, you.

JAN-ERIK: So, father believes me not …

Jan-Erik pushes away the mother and rushes out through the door, which he slams again after itself hard.

The mother looks at the father a moment –

THE MOTHER: That you could …

She rushes after Jan-Erik out in the hall. He holds just on to take on to the coat, fumbles.

THE MOTHER: No, you must not go. You must not.

She hangs itself fast at his arm. He tries (to) get loss her –

THE MOTHER: Go none beloved boy[;] (...) all must become good again. Go none. You must not go… No, no…

Jan-Erik lucks do to free and comes out through the door.

The schoolyard.

It rains awfully. Lightning and thunder. For the plan before the scholastic port has a big hop people collected under umbrellas and in doorways.

A row with leaved crates as stands middle in the rain looks poor and ruffled out. So also balloons and another.

On a window in the school glimpses the graduates. They stare down at the crowd.

In one doorway, something hidden, account Jan-Erik. He is but greatcoat and hat cum he sees strangely uneasy out. So looks it up. The old ice guard that opens the windows. He leans himself out, waves with the hands cum calls -

ICE GUARD: All clear.

Jan-Erik's face. He is immobile. Looks right out –

Cheering.

Murmurs.

Thunderbolt.

Some teacher-room.

In two rows stands them: Till right teachers, till left the students with the hats in hand. In the center rector. It mumbles and talks some until all are gathered. Then clear is himself the rector –

The rector.

He is somewhat solemn, only understands still to take it as easy as possible –

THE RECTOR: Yes, boys. So is it here the tide of your life past and you-all going out at life for that test on what it has to give.

New thunderclap. The boxes rattle. All turns of the head.

THE RECTOR: I would say, to you then should do you old school honors. Attempt to see on her as she is. A strict run-mother, a demanding mentor, perhaps not always equitable, perhaps not ever such she should be. But one has she as I dare go in good for. One aboveboard sincere will to fashion you.

New appalling crash, which pulls attention till itself.

The rector hurries himself to complete his speech, where he marks that none hear unto him. –

THE RECTOR: I said one honest, candid will to fashion you till good, sufficient, useful society creatures. My earnest hope is it that she might have succeeded in its large and responsible task.

The rector silences cum the becomes silent some moment. Then begins all to speak low-key -

THE RECTOR: Yes, then is the only to say goodbye. We old school chestnuts wish you all happiness and welfare, this vet you, so it requires me why none say …

So walks the students around and says goodbye and thanks.

Caligula stands smiling, warmed by the solemn atmosphere. He takes all in hand.

CALIGULA: Goodbye! Happiness till. Goodbye, happiness till, Goodbye, happiness till, Goodbye, happiness till … happiness till. Goodbye.

Some clapping it in the back.

Sandman comes forward for that speak goodbye. He stares Caligula correct in of his enlarged eyes, takes not his stretched hand –

SANDMAN (low): Swine.

The huge stairwell.

The students gather quickly outside the teacher's room door. Through the windows illuminates the lightning and the rain spurts. The thunder thunders and echoes in the stairs.

Then sets the boy horde itself in motion and plunges under wild howls performed the stairs.

A second staircase is among yet violent-mare momentum.

The large courtyard's port fought up. The rain stands right in like a curtain. The boys clamps fast their white hats cum so runs they or roars, overwhelming rain, hail cum thunder in it the falls to out in the rain, straight down for last the stairs.

THE STUDENTS: Sing about the student's happy day …

The sounds disappear in a general cheer. The group captures up and decomposes in the rushing human mass …

In a window visible Caligula.

He has taken coat and hat at himself(,) [;] he polishes its glasses. He smiles, laughs, extends himself out through the window, waves.

Jan-Erik stands down at the port and looks at him.

Walks then alone over the schoolyard. The rain pours down.

Some cemetery chapel.

It is afternoon and the rains none longer. Middle of the small chapel is one coffin without flowers, black and simple.

THE PRIEST: Amen.

He nods at the only present at the funeral, pallbearers.

They go front till the coffin and conforms up it in their ropes and carry it slowly out.

Outside stands Jan-Erik and Sandman, somewhat embarrassed. They follow after the coffin.

Open grave.

The Undertaker has just begun to shovel back it. He works silently and persevering. One small bit from therein stands Jan-Erik and Sandman.

They face and start going. First silent.

SANDMAN: What should you now do?

JAN-ERIK: I vet not… is not as I would wise… must think.

SANDMAN: You are desperate, boy. Speak if for me.

JAN-ERIK: Nah.

They have come to Bertha's house.

JAN-ERIK: Servant then.

SANDMAN: Think you dwell here ... in Berthas ...

JAN-ERIK: Each should I otherwise dwell.

They account silence one moment as they always do when they shall separate –

JAN-ERIK: It was decent of you that you went with. (unfavourable) It was so bad about her. And you understand I ... I... yes...

Sandman ensures calmly on the friend.

So nods he little –

SANDMAN: Yes particular. I understand.

JAN-ERIK: Do thou it.

SANDMAN: Yes, you remember that there about Nietzsche and Strindberg, one where some dirt man talked about ladies and such there.

Jan-Erik nods –

SANDMAN: Oh... I believe not on it longer. You understand man has become... Hm.

Sudden gets it self-conscious. [sic] Change topic -

SANDMAN: Can you not follow cum me.[sic] Give seventeen for that dwell there alone.

JAN-ERIK: No... I would be at peace. Servant.

SANDMAN: Servant.

They bear some instant silence. So go they. Sandman along the sidewalk and Jan-Erik up the staircase.

Jan-Erik comes in at Bertha's apartment. It is dusk now. He closes the door after him, which he locked up with his key.

The street lamp draws figures on the roof inside with space. Jan-Erik goes across over it. He throws off to coat. Taking one felt, puts oneself in a chair cum drags one other chair till himself for the feet. Then takes it out a cigarette that he kindles.

He sits and smokes, tired, thoughtful. So butts it the cigarette and creeps together on the chairs, so good it goes. He tries to sleep.

Of even calling it on the door. Jan-Erik sits himself up.

It appears he is scared.

It calls one time till. He travels himself and paws out in the hall in darkness.

He stands at the door. Indecisive. Now rings it again.

Then opens it and in the door stands the rector. He draws of himself against the staircase's light.

THE RECTOR: Is it Widgren.

JAN-ERIK: Yes.

The rector rising on –

THE RECTOR: Have you something against to me steps unto so here.

JAN-ERIK: No.

The rector goes in of the room. He goes forward in middle –

THE RECTOR: Mayst we possibly get some light in here.

Jan-Erik goes silent forward and kindles the table lamp. The room shows to be in similar condition as at the discovery.

The rector pretends whether nothing. He puts himself in a chair. Allows Widgren stand where he stands –

THE RECTOR: Self have willed speak with you earlier. So rang me Sandman and said that you were here and then thought I that was [an] idea to go here.

Jan-Erik quiets. He stands still left middle of the flooring.

THE RECTOR: You thought didn't of the school you. What? Or rather, you found you didn't till correct there. Or how? Yes, yes, I can well understand that. Will man after some then must man enough admit that it is a rather strange school form we have.

Jan-Erik turns to towards the rector –

JAN-ERIK: What want the rector me? Think the rector that it helps with that the rector speaks ill of the school.

The rector laughs something. He is very still and very wise –

THE RECTOR: What I want… That shall I tell you. I would how you should go home left, till your parents like worries themselves till death for you.

JAN-ERIK: JUDGMENT!

The rector takes up the boy's tone –

THE RECTOR: Yes, JUDGMENT well. (pause) So I want to try to help you if I do can in some way. So want try attempt forward you if I mayst in some way.

JAN-ERIK: There is nobody who can help me.

THE RECTOR: No, not with your own settlement, for the get you as all others stand out of right alone. But looks you, there is one other thing well that must clear out, which I somehow feel me co-responsible over.

JJan-Erik has sat it. He seems calmer now.

JAN-ERIK: So, that should it be.

THE RECTOR: Yes, you have suddenly struck you out watch society. You are about sorts desperado as like a rocket rushes straight at hell. As strange it songs is it your school's fault. That want I try recompense.

The relegation goes not to prevent cum thou grows perhaps sued. But I pledge that I shall try minister you in any way. I must try hinder din rocket fart(,)[;] I must try may in you bland the people again. Förstår du mig pojken min.

The rector's usual ton cars for much for Jan-Erik. He travels to and goes forward to the windows –

THE RECTOR: Wants you promise me now to come home to me in morning, so we get spoken at again, on something soberer …

JAN-ERIK: Yes, yes, go only.

THE RECTOR: And promise me to not do some nonsense …

The rector has residual to and gone forward and stands behind Jan-Erik –

JAN-ERIK: Shucks.

THE RECTOR: Well then so. Here have thou funds such you can stay in a hotel at night. And try to sleep properly.

The principal puts money on the table. Then claps he Jan-Erik something in the back –

THE RECTOR: Days go, that one after the other. So gradually mayst you perhaps see in this here as something that doesn't do evil - but that maybe was useful... Sees you, I think that there is a meaning to everything that happens, also if it may look strange outward for our eyes. Goodbye to you.

The rector gives him yet one clap, hands him his handkerchief, which he takes, turns cum goes.

Jan-Erik stands at the window quite still some good while, then walks it around in some room when driven by a furious concern.

Suddenly stopping it center of the flooring. He can not master to further without sinking together weeping. He lies on some floor the same crouched and crying over-given.

He has pressed forearms against the face in one ridiculous, distorted position.

Jan-Erik lies still left on the flooring, but the crying has silenced. He rolls over on chine, adds hands under the head cum stares at the roof. Cords.

Now departing it to, stands and looks himself about. Somewhere beats a clock three blows.

He goes front till the boards and takes the rector's handkerchief cum sobs himself. Then extinguishers it the lamp on some board. A faint gray light at some room. He takes the money, drags down the curtain cum goes towards the door.

Near he arrived till the door stops he and turns himself back. Thereafter goes it out.

Through the hall goes he, opens the door and disappears out through the hall door.

On the stairs is it dark. Only with a small reflex light from the stairway windows. Jan-Erik gropes after the light and kindles. Shall just more further when he suddenly turns himself back.

On the staircase above. By the wall stands Caligula. They stand and look at each second under silence. Jan-Erik is no longer afraid(,)[;]; he is quiet and downright mastered.

Now roars Caligula across himself. He walks slowly down for steps and forwards towards Jan-Erik, who calmly stands remain.

Now stand them middle opposite each other. Caligula opens his mouth as if to say something, only keeps silent again.

JAN-ERIK: That does you here. – – You maybe would go in? Hurry, here is the key.

Caligula keeps silent.

Jan-Erik hands him the key.

JAN-ERIK: Where so good – – –

Caligula takes it doesn't.

CALIGULA: The rector was here –

JAN-ERIK: Yes.

CALIGULA: What said he?

JAN-ERIK: We spoke not about you.

CALIGULA: What said he? I understand that he said something something - - - about me - -

Jan-Erik shaking on the head –

CALIGULA: I meant ne'er that it would be so here, Widgren.

Jan-Erik thinking walk.

CALIGULA: No, stay and hear across me. I meant it not – – – I have been sick. I (are)[am] still sick as I can none help it! You understand well that I none did it with sense and will.

Caligula goes and puts himself on a step, that if he were completely exhausted –

CALIGULA: I have no I – – –

He laughs short unexpectedly –

CALIGULA: four walls, ceiling, bookshelf, bed, desk - cleaning bitch, schoolboys, waitresses. The available none who wants regard at me - no single person – – –

JAN-ERIK: Get I go now?

CALIGULA: The available none as want know for me –

The last screaming he forth desperate –

CALIGULA: All only laughing at me and runs from me. They are scared for me also – – –

Jan-Erik goes from him down (for) [to] the stairs.

CALIGULA: – – but it is nevertheless I that is most fearful – – –

The voice (is) heard through the stairs. Short has the stairway light burned out.

Steve gropes himself downwards, all the time, audible Caligula clamour –

CALIGULA: – – – alight the light – alight the light – Widgren, you may not go from me – – alight – – alight – –

The last comes as elongated lowing.

Jan-Erik has time outside the port, which he slams again behind it. Thus heard no longer Caligula's voice.

Jan-Erik stands a moment with the back supported against the port and breathes out. Then goes it out on the street. It is morning and bright lighting over the rooftops. A scavenger sweeps along the street. The refuse-horse going slowly and sleeping beside. A little newspaper-old-woman hurries till her work with her large, empty bag.

Afterword by Jan Holmberg

Ingmar Bergman engaged from SF as »assistant director and screenwriter« the 16 January 1943, till to start with for a year forward. Under one farther hospital- and convalescent period winter 1942–43 had he written the manuscript to TORMENT and SF bought it in July 1943 within the framework for some contract with Bergman. Simultaneously gave company him in commission to at some points further develop it.

The recording, at which Ingmar Bergman participated as combined assistant director and script boy, took place in two periods. The first included the film's interiors and stretched to between 21 February and 31 March 1944. The later PERIODS, under which the exterior scenes played in, included about ten days under latter the half of May 1944. It was under these exterior scenes that Ingmar Bergman made his actual film direction debut. Bergman in PICTURES:

Near the film was almost pre-recorded made self my debut which film director. TORMENT ended intrinsically about to all taking the student exam except Alf Kjellin as goes out one rear way in the rain. Caligula stands and waves in some window. All opined that this ending pus for dark. I got writing till a scene in the dead girl's apartment where the school's rector tells Kjellin to correct cum Caligula as afraid loser howling in the stairs below. Themselves one final scene shows Kjellin in the morning light. He walks towards the awakening city. These last exteriors had me order to film, as Sjöberg had other assignments. They were my first professional pictures. I was crazy with excitement. The small film squad threatened to go home. I screamed and cursed so that people woke and looked out through their windows. The clock was four in the morning.

Later in the career would Bergman again come to work with both Alf Sjöberg and Stig Järrel (Caligula). Sjöberg directed Twelve years later FINAL PAIR OUT after Bergmans script. Järrel unto his lucky played Satan in THE DEVIL'S EYE and was including a small role in THE LUST YARD.

TORMENT gave rise to an intense press debate. Aftonbladet {The Evening Blade} published one interjection of rector Henning L Håkanson at Palmgrenska samskolan {Palm-border swim-school}, where Ingmar Bergman [had?] been scholastic (the statement as referred in subsequent citation did Bergman for Aftonbladet the day after the premiere for TORMENT, 3 October 1944):

Mr. Bergman's statement, how all his school time was one hell, surprises me. I remember clearly, how both he, his brother cum his Father were much satisfied with the school. After his one student exam[sic??] has also[sic?] Ingmar Bergman revealed himself at the school at our Yulefest, glad and enjoying and of[sic?] all that doom without any feeling of resentment[sic?] whether to[sic?] towards the school or against its teachers. The sake is probably till in a different way. The good Ingmar was one problem barn, idle but pretty gifted, and that one such type not easy arranges to in a daily orderly study walking, is natural. About such school may not be adapted for dreamy (suit) bohemian without for normal found working people.

A scanty week later replied Bergman:

Firstly was it so »the 12-year-old's hell« (rugged expression incidentally. Not used by me but by one who interviewed me. I would recollect that I said "heck", and there is inequality there). Yes! I was a very lazy boy and very afraid why that I was lazy, because how I fussed with playhouse theatre of instead for of school and because how I loathed to fitting times, rise upward in the mornings, reading homework, seated still, carrying maps, having halftones, writing projections, chewing interrogation, short told and without frills: I abhorred school that principle, that system cum establishment.[sic] I have thus definitely not liked comma at my own school without all schools. My school was[,] as I distinctly observed in the unfortunate interview[,] from what I understand[,] neither better nor worse than other establishments for equal purpose.

My revered principal typing also (probably so sharply): "A school may not be adapted for dreaming bohemians[,] but for typically found working people." Where should the poor bohemians take the road[?] "Shall the pupil material be divided: you are [a?] bohemian, you are [a] working person, you are [a] bohemian, etc. Avoid bohemians".

There are teachers [a] man never forgets. Oldsters [a] man liked and oldsters [a] man hated. My revered rector belonged and belongs still (in my case) to the last category. I have also a feeling of that my beloved rector not has seen the film yet.[sic] We should perhaps go and see it together!

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My two favourite books ❤️❤️❤️

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Two of my most favorite things, Ghibli and Carry On woven together to create the most magical masterpiece 💘

You Who Swallowed a Falling Star by the brilliant @ninemagicks

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induce,howeverstraightforward to Lose. "HOLD TIGHT" apprehend the SECRETSMasturbate Masturbating in itself isn’t we tend toird in the slightest degree — it’s simply the sheer frequency that we liewithonce we have free time, however no likelihood of obtainingarranged . Guys have the name for being thoseWHOshe-bop all the time, howeverprovides a single lady some ennuiand also the potential for multiple orgasms, and you’ll be afraid at simplywhat quantityshe will accomplish.Search for weird-ass videos to look at on YouTube once you’re single, you don’t need to worry concerning your new man jumping on your laptopto seem up a song and staggering on the handfuls of marsound videos you’ve watched. Plus, all that nightly free time that taken womenpay doing lovey-dovey stuff is ideal for taking place a dark rabbit burrow of “suggested videos.” The journey isn’t invariably pretty, howeveras luck would have it, no one’s around to evaluate you for taking it.Fill up our wedding boards on Pinterest thoughyou recognize zero those thatmay become your husband within the next 5 years, though you don’t desire a fancy wedding, though you dislike the terriblyplan of wedding, it doesn’t mean you don’t have a Pinterest wedding board. it'dappear ridiculous that onelady would paysuch a lot time choosing out favorite dresses and decorations for an occasion that’s bondedto not happen for her within 

theclose to future, however that doesn’t stop U.S. from doing it anyway.Revert back to our cavewoman ways that If it’s long trousers season and we’re not obtaining naked for anyone, you'll bet that our leg hair goes to be long enough to braid if we are able to manage it. once you’re constantly single, your vogue tends to gravitate to “homeless man” as time goes on. we tend tokeephealthful, howeverwe tend to’re conjointly not reaching to fret if we go a solid week while notdynamic our undergarment or accept dry shampoo far more than we should always.Download, then delete, then re-download chemical analysis apps It starts as a result of we’re lonely, ends as a result ofwe tend tokeep in mindwhat quantitychemical analysis sucks, then restarts as a result of we’re lonely. You’d suppose we’d be able tostructure our minds concerningthese items already, howeverwe tend toinvariablyfind yourself going back theretoan equivalentapproachwe tend toreturn to the ladsWHOaren't anysmart for U.S..Look for (and presumably buy) plenty of stuff we tend to don’t would like on Amazon Not having a man to paycash on suggests thatwe tend to get to spoil ourselves. It looksamazinginitially, on the other handwe discover ourselves buying things we tend topositively don’t would like. does onereally want a special device for taking the first-rate off strawberries? Nope, however since you’re not hard cash on anyone else, that thing’s obtaining shipped right to your door.Have notional arguments with our exes That guy is perhapsne'erreaching to run into you at the marketand convey up that point he got approach too drunk at your workplace party, however that doesn’t build it any less fun to imagine. it'dappeara bit crazy (especially if somebody saw U.S. muttering angrily to our shower walls), however fantasizing concerning delivering that completelysmart comeback to the jerk WHO left U.S. single within theinitial place makes it all worthwhile.