#but it the priority was probably weight balancing and a weapon SECOND

[vabam-fr]

more riot concept stuff!! this is just a concept sketch, but hopefully more to come :-)))

@ringleaderising obligatory piglet ping

[methethgfan]

The 9th Hunger Games

The tributes dashed off immediately, but the burly boy stayed behind. He looked around, targeted his victim, and started running. Then he slipped. The floor was wet. Why was the floor wet? He realized a moment later that he was standing ankle-deep in cold, shimmery water. It poured in from all directions and flooded the entire arena. Chaos erupted when everyone started climbing up the seating tiers to save themselves from drowning. The Capitol had taken their game to the next level.

The Arena: The viewers knew before the Games had even begun what the venue would be – of course, the empty, run-down amphitheater, where the last eight Games had taken place. And again, someone would grab a few weapons and hunt down the others. And again, the Games would last an hour – at most. Why bother watching? But this time the Gamemakers had thought of something to draw people to the screens. The first few seconds were crucial; if viewers were bored, they quickly switched to another channel. The wooden ship on the edge of the plain caught everyone's interest. The tributes remained unimpressed: they didn’t know that no props had been given in the Games before, and the question of where to run and hide was far more important anyway. This strategy worked for the viewers, though, who stayed tuned because they wanted to know why there was a ship standing in the middle of the arena all of a sudden. To give the tributes more options to hide? Or simply to make the arena more attractive? No, none of that. The answer was much simpler – provided one got it...

The Tributes: Immediately the tributes ran in different directions. Being out of harm’s way was top priority. Only one of them remained behind. The chubby boy watched with an amused expression as his opponents ran away. Scaredy-pants! It was even more amusing to watch how his calmness turned into panic as soon as he realized that the arena was under water and the water level was rising steadily. The tributes jumped hastily over the rows of seats, lost their balance, bumped into each other, and tried with all their strength to climb up pillars. As if they would burn themselves by skin contact with the water. Now things were getting truly exciting.

The names of the tributes were…

Warning: Some readers may find the following text disturbing. Reader discretion is advised.

24. Monroe Welch (age: 13 | skill: x | minutes survived: 3): Female tribute from District 12. Malnourished and frail, Monroe was no match for the untamable force of the water. Panicked, she climbed the stairs, stumbled, fell face first on the hard stone and broke her front tooth. This completely threw her off the track, and before she could pick herself up again, she was pulled away by the water. She screamed for help, but of course no one came to her rescue.

23. Maiden Ipsen (age: 17 | skill: x | minutes survived: 3): Female tribute from District 6. Maiden was one of the first to jump over the seats and get out of the water’s reach. But in her panic, she missed a step, lost her balance, and fell backwards into the water. The water rose so quickly that she instantly lost the ground beneath her feet. She kicked around herself to somehow move forward, but in doing so she moved further and further away from the seats. Eventually she sank and drowned a little later.

22. Rusk Oberman (age: 16 | skill: bodily strength | minutes survived: 4): Male tribute from District 9. An overweight tribute, a novelty. If his parents lacked anything, it probably wasn’t food. Rusk believed he could use his weight to his own advantage in the arena. He wouldn’t even need a weapon to kill his opponents: he would simply jump them and break their bones before suffocating them. Therefore, he went into the Games with great confidence, and even after the Games opened, he strolled along calmly, grinning at the sight of his opponents screeching in all directions. That’s when he saw his first potential victim: a small, skinny girl with yellowish skin. Rusk ran, but something was off. His feet were suddenly wet. He looked down and realized that the ground was shining. Water. The arena was under water, and it was increasing steadily! The sneering look on his face disappeared, and the next moment he was following the crowd. But unlike them, he had a harder time running up the tiers due to his weight. Panting like a dog, he leapt over the steps, his face flushed and his arms flailing wildly. Then he fell to the ground from exhaustion. He felt dizzy. He tried to get up but slumped back to the floor and ended up rolling down the steps. It was impressive how his massive body was instantly swallowed by the water. A little later, his head broke through the surface. His bottle-blond hair rippled in the water and the blazing sun was reflected in his wide-open eyes.

21. Digita Carlin (age: 15 | skill: inventiveness | minutes survived: 7): Female tribute from District 3. When Digita had run up the steps, the girl from District 1 had pulled her hair from behind. As a result, Digita had fallen backwards into the water. Her opponents, who had brought themselves to safety, watched as Digita tried to get to the other side of the arena. She held a sword in her hand and flailed around, keeping herself above the water. Just as if she were canoeing. What a brilliant idea! Suddenly she was pulled under the water. Had the Gamemakers now also brought sea monsters into the arena? No, a little later Digita resurfaced. Hold on, had the water turned her auburn hair to blonde? No, that wasn't Digita there, it was the girl from District 4! She calmly swam towards the steps, sat down, and stroked her wet hair. Apparently, she had dived into the water and lain in wait there...

20. Spars Chapel (age: 15 | skill: stamina | minutes survived: 13): Male tribute from District 12. During the pushing and shoving, the boy from District 8 had grabbed Spars' holey shirt from behind and pulled him backwards, whereupon Spars had fallen into the water. Now, in a panic, he tried to get back on land. The steps were within his grasp, but before he could get hold of them, the girl from District 1 stood in his way, swinging a long sword menacingly above her head. Spars pushed himself back again and was now heading for the stairs on the left, but the girl followed him. She couldn't kill him because she didn't dare approach him due to the water, so instead she tried to keep him at a distance. Spars noticed how his strength was gradually fading. He couldn’t stay afloat forever. "Bugger off!" he told the girl from 1, but she just narrowed her eyes to slits, saying, "Make me." Spars splashed her with water, but the girl didn’t back away. The other tributes were busy getting themselves to safety, and those who were already out of danger silently watched the spectacle. Then it was over. Spars sank under the water, splashing around desperately to get back up, but the water pulled him down. The girl from District 1 waited until Spars showed no sign of life, then she straightened herself, turned, and looked up at the other tributes. Now it was their turn.

When the water reached the middle seating rows, it was over. The water had reached an impressive depth of fifteen meters. The weapons were floating on its surface. Most of the tributes had saved themselves to the top seating rows, some had even managed to climb up the pillars. Now they were waiting for someone to make the first move…

19. Anther Day (age: 18 | skill: bodily strength | minutes survived: 30): Male tribute from District 7. Anther had been the first tribute to reach the pillars and climb one of them. The boy from District 5 had grabbed him by the ankle, but Anther had managed to shake him off by kicking him in the face. Five minutes had passed since then. And another five. Anther leaped down and looked around ("I'm bored.") He hadn't imagined the Hunger Games to be this dreary. It was time to mix things up a little. With bounding strides, Anther descended the steps until he stopped abruptly. Slowly, he turned his head to the abandoned ship floating inconspicuously on the water. He could make it with a powerful running jump. Anther climbed up a few steps, briefly breathed in and out, and ran.

Then he pushed himself hard off the ground and got hold of the bow. He dangled there for a moment before lifting himself up with all his strength and was about to swing his second foot over when he heard a strange noise behind him. He stared at the glimmering water surface for a moment, and the image of it captivated him, making him move closer and closer to the surface until his face was only an arm's length away from the water. Suddenly a hand shot out of the water, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down. The tributes craned their necks and watched excitedly. A fight seemed to be going on under the water because the water was splashing in all directions. A few moments later, a familiar face appeared - the girl from District 4. She swam ashore until she reached solid ground beneath her and calmly climbed the stairs. With her right hand she pulled Anther out of the water by the hair and then laid the deathly pale boy down on the steps for everyone to see. Her message couldn’t have been any clearer: the water was her territory, and whoever dared to enter it would suffer the same fate as Anther.

18. Noiset Jensen (age: 13 | skill: x | minutes survived: 35): Female tribute from District 9. Noiset, who was taller than average for her young age, had stayed near the viewer's box, a separate area surrounded by glass, the entire time. Now she stepped forward with tentative steps, looked around cautiously, and slowly headed down the steps straight towards the water. She stared at its surface skeptically for a moment, making sure that the girl from District 4 wasn't in it and wouldn’t suddenly burst out of the water like a crocodile, before bending down and scooping water into her parched mouth. Then she stopped. Something was overshadowing her. Noiset stared at her own face reflected by the water’s surface - and above it, she detected the face of a girl smiling at her mischievously! Startled, Noiset turned around, but the girl from District 1 rammed her fist into Noiset's eye and plunged her sword into her chest.

An eerie silence fell over the arena once again. The tributes hid from the glaring sun, sitting in the cool shadow of pillars and walls. Only the girl from District 4 was swimming happily around in the water. Eventually she floated on her back and stared up at the blazing sun. Then something happened. The boy from District 4, who had been in hiding, stepped forward. His pitch-black eyes fixated on his district partner. Whatever he intended to do with her, it wouldn’t come to a friendly alliance between the two, that much was clear.

17. Meander Kehl (age: 17 | skills: swimming, bodily strength, close combat | minutes survived: 47): Female tribute from District 4. Meander's expression had brightened as soon as the Gamemakers had run water into the arena. Water was her element. Meander had learned to swim as an infant and, on some days, had even spent more time in the water than on land. What was scary for most tributes was Meander's second home. She could read from the expressions of her opponents how envious they were and how much they despised her. Of course, she would also hate someone who practically already had victory in their hands. Then why bother? She made fun of scaring her opponents by suddenly appearing out of nowhere and pulling them underwater. To prevent her opponents from clinging to her in the water and pulling her under with them, Meander used a certain trick: she grabbed her opponents by the arm, pulled it over their head, slipped under their arm, brought them in front of her, and then held them by the neck from behind. That way, her victims were safely at her mercy. There was only one tribute for whom these and other tricks wouldn’t work - her district partner. Where was he, anyway? Meander had lost sight of him long ago. Oh, there he was. He had just come out of hiding. Strange, why had he waited so long? Surely he swam almost as well as her. With slow steps he came strolling down the steps. Then he stopped, took a deep breath, and jumped into the water.

Meander watched him closely. He climbed onto the boat, walked to the edge, and stopped again. His gaze lingered on her. Then he formed his thin lips into a crooked grin and jumped into the water the next moment. Meander instantly pulled her head down to see where he had disappeared to, and winced as his face appeared right in front of her. He grabbed Meander by the neck, but she skillfully escaped his stranglehold and tried to immobilize him. Had he lost his mind? Meander hadn’t thought that he would attack her of all people. She swam back to the surface, but her district partner pulled her back under. How long could this guy hold his breath? Obviously, he had no intention of keeping the fight above water. No matter what chokehold Meander applied, her district partner was able to break free immediately.

Then he pulled her by the hair, wrapping the strands around her wrist, making it impossible for Meander to move to the other position. With her other hand Meander hit him in the throat, but he grabbed that hand too and bent it until the scaphoid bone broke. Meander opened her mouth - if they weren’t under water now, she would have howled in pain. But she didn’t give up. She just needed to stay under water longer than he did. And she was skilled at holding her breath for a long time. But then she realized that the boy had already stuck his head out and was pressing his hand against Meander's head so that it wouldn't penetrate the water's surface. No matter how much Meander resisted, it was no use. A little later she lost consciousness and - drowned. Who would have thought that?

The District 4 boy swam toward the shore and pulled his district partner's body out of the water. Then he lifted her up and flung her onto the upper deck. Several tributes stared at him open-mouthed. The guy had just whacked his own district partner, just like that, without a provocation. He was definitely not to be trifled with. Meanwhile, the few viewers in the Capitol were annoyed, since they hadn’t been able to follow the fight underwater.

16. Plier Aish (age: 14 | skill: noiselessness | minutes survived: 51): Male tribute from District 6. Plier scrambled to his feet as the District 4 boy stood on the steps again, his back facing him. It was now or never. He ran at him, drawing the knife he had had the presence of mind to grab as he fled. Soon he had reached him. Plier close in for the kill and - bam. The District 5 boy knocked him down with his hand clenched to a fist. Alarmed by the impact, the District 4 boy whirled around and stared at the District 5 boy standing over Plier, staring back at him ("If your eyes are going to fail you, at least your ears shouldn't deceive you." - "When you've been underwater that long, it takes a while to get your hearing right." - "We can be eyes and ears for you.") He pointed to his district partner standing a little farther away ("What's in it for me?" - "We guard the land, and you guard the water. That way we can eliminate the rest faster." - "Deal.") And thus was born the first alliance, which was doomed from the start. The boy from District 5 raised his hand, his district partner threw him a sword that he caught midair and rammed into Plier's neck without hesitation

15. Tulle Frearson (age: 18 | skill: x | minutes survived: 53): Female tribute from District 8. Just before the boy from District 6 had been killed, the remaining tributes had moved away to safety - all except Tulle, who had stood rooted to the spot and watched as the boy was killed. The boy from District 4 had gone back into the water, but the tributes from 5 were still standing there. Then the girl looked around, spotted Tulle, and nodded in her direction. Tulle realized she had become the target herself, but it was already too late. The pair from District 5 had already caught up with her and pushed her to the ground. Now it was the girl's turn. Her district partner threw a sword to her, and she raised it menacingly in the air ("Good night.") Then she stabbed her.

14. Jade Morales (age: 16 | skill: sword fighting | minutes survived: 59): Female tribute from District 1. Jade was a spiteful girl who loved to provoke others. All the way to the Capitol, and even when they had thrown the tributes into the stables of the Peacekeepers, she hadn’t kept her mouth shut ("I don't see why I of all people should die. With you, on the other hand, I can somehow understand it. After all, not a living soul would mourn you.") It was thanks to exhaustion and partly to the shock of her opponents that they would most likely die very soon that no one had torn her to pieces yet. But maybe they were saving it for the arena? Though Jade, like everyone else, had initially run up the steps to escape certain death, she was one of the few who later walked near it. She sat on the steps, propping her elbow on her knee, and watched as the girl from District 4 swam in the water ("Well, having fun?" - "Yeah. I can teach you a few tricks if you like." - "I'm afraid I'm out, sweetie. I can't swim." - "Oh, let me worry about that. I can teach you. Could be fatal, though.") Later, Jade addressed the boy from District 4 in the same way as he swam in the water, but the boy didn’t deign to look at her.

Jade didn't enjoy killing her opponents, but it was much easier for her to ignore the fact that they were human. If you want to survive these Games, you must be cruel, she thought. But after she had killed the girl from District 9, it had become unusually quiet around Jade. Where was she lingering around, the viewers wondered? Oh, there she sat, leaning against one of the pillars, cooling down in the shadow. Suddenly she moved and turned her head to the right with lightning speed, like an animal sensing the emerging danger. The pair from District 5 approached her with slow steps. Jade reared back and put her sword to her shoulder to appear intimidating. But the pair had tasted blood and were longing for more. A fight broke out, with Jade inflicting a cut on the boy's cheek. The two were incredibly fast and acted almost synchronously. Jade wouldn’t be able to keep up with them on her own for too long, so she fixated the ship and broke through them. She ran down the steps, jumped and - flew against the ship and fell backwards into the water. The boy from District 4 reached her immediately and pulled her down. The water instantly turned red: the boy had slit Jade's throat underwater....

Another tribute dead. Silence fell over the arena again. The Gamemakers, unsure of what to film next, pointed the camera at one of the outsiders. On the boy from District 1, of all people, whose district partner had just been murdered. People expected him to show compassion, but there was no sign of it. He lay there stretched out on a bar, his golden hair shining under the sun. Then he turned over, cupped his chin in his hand, and gazed down the arena thoughtfully. Then he yawned. Perhaps it was time to go into action.

13. Camomille Ruhl (age: 16 | skill: x | minutes survived: 71): Female tribute from District 11. Camomille and her district partner had avoided the bloodbath, taking refuge in the upper seating rows instead. Camomille had suddenly stood up after the death of the District 1 girl and run downstairs to the water where the girl's sword lay on the bank, threatening to fall into the water. She grabbed the sword and went back to her district partner, who cheered her on ("Well done, Cammie!"). Now the two were armed and could fight back if necessary. But there seemed to be no danger now. The couple from District 5 had moved to the other side and were debating over something, gesticulating wildly. A little later, the boy from District 1 approached them, aiming for the sword. He walked down the steps toward them, his hands in his pockets. Immediately, he engaged them in a fight. While Camomille's partner swung his sword around to keep the boy away, Camomille tried to press the boy from the other side. The latter walked down a few steps backwards, putting the two of them in front of him again. Then something happened that no one had anticipated.

12. Thatcher Baldwin (age: 16 | skill: x | minutes survived: 74): Male tribute from District 11. Thatcher was the giant among the tributes - his arms were almost as long as the girl from District 12. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, it seemed as if he didn’t have control over his own body. Surely it was a brilliant idea of his district partner to equip him with a sword while also standing near him. The District 1 boy had noticed the danger posed by Thatcher, which was why he had backed up, bringing the two closer together. Thatcher lunged again with his sword, swinging it with all his strength to the side (the District 1 boy ducked away) and slashing his district partner's face. The latter howled loudly and put her hands to her face. Thatcher had almost completely cut her face in half. He turned to his district partner (who had fallen to the ground and was unresponsive) and was able to say "Sorry!" when he realized something was pulling his weapon: the District 1 boy had grabbed the blade with one hand. Thatcher tried to pull away the sword but the boy didn't let go, even though blood was dripping through his fingers. He then kicked Thatcher in the chest, spun the sword in the air, grabbed it by the hilt and rammed it into Thatcher's heart. Thatcher bled to death minutes after his district partner.

While the couple from District 11 had been fighting for their lives, the girl from District 7 had scampered unobtrusively down the steps. The boy from District 4 had climbed up the ship to recover from his swim. Apparently, he was even dead asleep. So the coast was clear. Carefully, she got into the water and whirled her arms to stay afloat. She grabbed a knife that was floating on the water and cut out a large piece of wood from the ship. Then she turned around and headed for the shore again. Once there, she held up the piece of wood with a self-pleased grin. What was she going to do with it?

11. Thermal Gill (age: 15 | skill: speed | minutes survived: 81): Female tribute from District 5. Thermal had never been the type to think things over for long. She just did. That's an advantage in the arena, because if you're too sentimental, it makes it harder for you to fight your opponents. In an arena with other tributes, Thermal would certainly have been very successful, but with some of her opponents this strategy was of no use to her, because they were just as ready for anything and weren’t scared of a bloody fight. The viewers thought of the boy from last year who had single-handedly caused a bloody massacre within an hour. After the boy from District 10 had injured Thermal and her district partner - he had slashed Thermal's forearm and stabbed her district partner in the throat - her district partner seemed to get worse and worse. He struggled breathing. Thermal stood up, looked around, and saw her ally, the boy from District 4, sitting a little to the right. With shuffling steps, she walked towards him, possibly wanting to ask him for advice. But just before she reached him, she realized that it was the boy from District 1. From a distance, the two looked confusingly alike. Thermal took a step backward uncertainly. The boy from District 1, alarmed, stood up and drew his sword. Thermal raised a hand defensively to signal the boy that she had mistaken him for someone else, but the boy obviously thought that Thermal had tried to attack him. Now Thermal also drew her sword, but the boy was far superior to her. He pierced her with the sword and then kicked her in the stomach. Thermal fell backwards down the steps and landed in the water - dead.

10. Geo Hidalgo (age: 14 | skills: strategic thinking, risk-taking | minutes survived: 88): Male tribute from District 3. Geo had saved himself on a pillar at the beginning of the Games and hadn't moved ever since. As he stared there in front of him, a thought suddenly occurred to him. What if he was left with one of the dangerous tributes? Then he would be trapped like a mouse, because somehow, they would manage to get him down from the pillar. The next moment, Geo saw the pimply girl from District 7 run down the steps, into the water, and cut a piece of wood out of the ship. This gave him an idea that, while risky, would make it imperative that the boy from District 4 got out of the water. Then he would be at the mercy of the other tributes, who were already eagerly waiting to get their hands on him. Geo jumped down from the pillar (he had underestimated the height, so he paused briefly to rub his aching ankle) and ran down the steps. Then he copied the girl from District 7, but was soon out of breath, so he swam back to shore. Then he bent down, put his hands in the water and moved them back and forth so that the sword would float to him. It worked and he went into the water again. This time, Geo imitated his district partner, who had used swords to stay afloat.

But what he didn't know was that the sound of the swashing water had awakened the boy from District 4. He stood up and bent over the other side of the ship. Geo, meanwhile, was drilling a hole in the underside of the ship. With his other hand, he held onto the hole that the girl from District 7 had cut. The viewers understood what Geo was up to: he was trying to capsize the ship. The water would run into the hole and the ship would sink. Pretty smart. But they didn't see the boy from District 4 looking down at Geo. He did a frontflip, grabbed Geo by the head, and pulled him under the water. Then the boy resurfaced and pulled Geo's lifeless body to shore: his head was at a weird angle, indicating that the boy from District 4 had broken his neck. But he didn't get off quite so lightly himself: Geo's sword had slashed him along the cheek, from which dark red drops of blood were now oozing.

The camera pointed at the blood-smeared corpses of the tributes from District 11. Suddenly something cast a shadow on them. The camera panned around and zoomed in on the face of the girl from District 10, who was staring down at the corpses. Then she bent down, dipped her finger into the halved face of the girl from District 11, and then looked at her bloody fingertip. Then she lowered her finger, looked straight ahead, and said in a dreamy voice, "I think I'm in the mood to kill."

09. Drape Lowly (age: 14 | skill: stamina | minutes survived: 93): Male tribute from District 8. There was no reason for Drape to pull the District 12 boy by the shirt and make him fall into the water at the start of the Games. None at all. Nasty Drape had only wanted to use the opportunity to get one of his opponents out of the way. Then he had crouched at the top, watching the other tributes with his bug-eyes. He was annoyed that all the weapons were floating in the water. He could go step into the water and get a weapon but feared one of the District 4 tributes might appear out of nowhere. Drape circled the arena, looking for a potential weapon. Maybe a brick that had fallen out of the wall. Or a metal rod? He looked down at the water, and at that moment his glasses slid down his nose. Drape tried to catch his glasses, but they rolled down a few steps. Instantly, the world blurred before his eyes. Blindly scanning the ground for his glasses, he flinched when someone spoke to him. He turned in the direction of the sugary voice ("I found your glasses. Here, put them on.") Slowly, the world began to take shape again.

In front of him stood the girl from District 10. Should he just push her down? But the girl beat him to it and punched Drape in the eye. The glass pierced his eye and he howled. The girl grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to the ground very effectively. Then she rammed her fist into his other eye and kicked him away. Drape rolled down the steps and landed in the cold water. Then suddenly the boy from District 4 appeared and looked first at Drape, then at the girl from District 10 standing over him. She stared back and said in her dreamy voice ("Fish food. Come, little fish. Eat.") The boy from District 4 shrugged his shoulders, dove away again, and left Drape to the water, where he eventually drowned.

08. Kurtis Acorn (age: 17 | skills: knife, flexibility | minutes survived: 98): Male tribute from District 10. Kurtis stood out from the rest of the boys as he was the only one with a beard. It looked weird how he stood there, half a man in between the boys. But his real trademark was his right ring finger which was missing. While chopping meat, his knife had slipped, and his finger had gotten mixed in with the ground beef. But if one assumed Kurtis would have a handicap as a result, they were wrong. He was still excellent with the knife. Therefore an extremely dangerous opponent. This had probably also crossed the minds of the pair from District 5, because after they had recovered extensively, they had pounced on Kurtis, who had managed to escape them. Apparently, he had no interest in using his knife against people. Or he didn't want to exhaust himself yet. That could have been a warning to the two from District 5, but they remained stubborn and attacked him again a short time later. This time Kurtis wouldn’t back down. He injured them both. Then he sat down on the steps and looked down at his bloody knife. His sweat dripped on it and mixed with the blood to form a murky liquid. Then he heard heavy breathing and looked up: the boy from District 5 was approaching him. He wanted his revenge...

07. Kobalt Casey (age: 17 | skills: sword fighting, speed | minutes survived: 101): Male tribute from District 5. Cobalt, a boy with dark red curls and a freckled face, had set out to do something: he would survive the Games and be the first one to return to District 5 alive. He didn’t care about human lives. He would never see the tributes again anyway, and as for his own district partner, he would kill her if necessary. But for his own reputation, of course, it would be better if someone else put her around the corner instead. Perhaps he could orchestrate something of that sort when he got the chance. But his more immediate problem was the other tributes. Some of them were quite ready for brute force. He had to kill them before they got more and more used to the idea that killing was the only way to survive. So the game took its course. But his stubbornness, his greatest weakness, cost Cobalt his life, for he wouldn’t let it go that the boy from District 10 had escaped him twice. At the Capitol, Cobalt was surely the biggest joke. He approached the District 10 boy and raised his sword ("The fun's over!") The two boys dueled again, but this time the boy from District 10 managed to defeat Cobalt by kicking him in the side of the head. Cobalt fell to the ground and tried to get up, but the District 10 boy pressed his knees to his neck, causing Cobalt to choke. The boy from District 10 then straightened up, looked down at the dead boy and sighed. He could have saved himself the trouble. Suddenly, the District 10 boy's eyes snapped open, but it was too late: the knife had already pierced his lungs. He slumped to the ground and the impact sent him rolling to the side. He looked straight into the eyes of his district partner. Ironically, the boy from District 10 also suffocated - lying on the body of the boy from District 5.

06. Timberlee Brand (age: 17 | skills: bodily strength, resourcefulness | minutes survived: 109): Female tribute from District 7. When Timberlee's name had been called out at the Reaping, she had collapsed. The Peacekeepers had carried her to the stage anyway and left her there, and the mayor, distracted by an unconscious girl lying on the floor next to him, had had no choice but to pretend nothing had happened and announce the male tribute. Timberlee looked unremarkable at first sight - her pale face was covered with pimples, and she had tied her dirty blonde hair into a messy bun - but she was a sly dog. She had been hiding most of the time, waiting for all the other tributes to retreat as well. Then, when the coast was clear, she slipped out of her hiding place, ran to the ship, went into the water, and carved herself a piece of wood, which she used as driftwood from then on. She swam around in the water with it, gathering weapons one by one that she could use: two knives, a jagged wooden club, and a hatchet. Then, when she came out of the water with the weapons, the boy from District 1, who was sitting up in the shade leaning against a pillar, moved slightly and sat up straighter. Later, she went to the pillar where the couple from District 2 was standing and hit it several times with the hatchet, but the pillar was made of solid stone and didn’t cave in. Somehow, she had to get them down there, otherwise she herself would be targeted by the other tributes first.

Timberlee went back to her weapons, which she had spread out on a seat, exchanged the hatchet for the wooden club, and walked again to the pillar. She signaled the two to come down, but of course they didn’t. Then she tried to hit their ankles with the wooden club, but the weapon wasn’t long enough. Maybe I should go back into the water and fish out a spear, she thought, turning her head toward the water. Then she paused, the wooden club still outstretched. The District 1 boy stood by her weapons, examining the hatchet. Timberlee walked down the steps and the boy looked up at her. Then she stopped ("Move along. Nothing to see here.") The boy didn’t answer and again focused his eyes on the hatchet in his hand. Then Timberlee extended the wooden club and signaled the boy that she would trade weapons with him. She would make sure she got her weapon back. But the boy still said nothing. “Let’s team up,“ Timberlee said and reached out her hand. She would break his fingers and then push him down the stairs. The boy put out his hand, too, and they shook hands. And as if he had read her mind, he tightened his grip on her hand and rotated her middle finger, dislocating it. Timberlee gave a screech and tried to break free, but the boy just swung his hatchet and cut off Timberlee’s hand. Then he pushed her to the ground. Timberlee rolled down the stairs, hit her head hard against the brick and died on the spot.

05. Margo Roth (age: 15 | skill: x | minutes survived: 111): Female tribute from District 2. Margo was undoubtedly the prettiest of the tribute girls, with her ringlets and light gray eyes that glistened in the sun (and which had earned her a few malicious comments from the District 1 girl). She and her district partner had held hands at the beginning of the Games and saved themselves together on a pillar. And after nearly two hours, they still hadn't moved from the spot. Apparently, they were patiently waiting for the field to shrink to just a few players. That's exactly the opposite of what the boy from their district who came back alive last year had told them - waiting until there was only one other player left. But the more time passed, the more Margo and her district partner realized that this strategy wouldn’t work with their opponents, several of whom were highly dangerous. She tried to persuade her partner to at least change their position, but he shook his head firmly. A little later, the girl from District 10 approached them. She stopped in front of their pillar and stared up at them in silence.

Then she pulled out a knife and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Margo and her district partner stood up, ready to step on the girl's hands if necessary, should she reach for their feet. But she simply remained standing. They looked at each other silently for a while, then the District 2 boy raised his voice ("Steady! It's not like you're getting paid for this." - "What? I just want to kill.") She wouldn't just walk away and be content with it. The camera zoomed in on the District 2 boy's hand, which he opened tentatively and brought forward - and with which he pushed Margo off the pillar. The latter fell to the ground and kicked around to ward off the girl from District 10, who, without batting an eye, stabbed her. The boy from District 2 took advantage of this moment, jumped off the pillar, and ran away.

04. Teo Clement (age: 14 | skill: climbing | minutes survived: 113): Male tribute from District 2. Since his arrival at the Capitol, Teo hadn’t stopped scratching his head. Lice. No wonder, because the dead tributes of last year were transported in the same cattle car. In one corner, Teo had discovered a bloodstain with blond hair still sticking to it. And he could tell animal hair from human hair very well. So who knows what else was crawling around in the wagon. Teo, who had pushed his district partner down in cold blood to distract the girl from District 10 while he ran away, was now heading for the piece of driftwood lying under the corpse of the girl from District 7. He pulled at it with all his strength, but his hand slipped, and he fell backwards. He then rolled the girl onto her stomach, took the driftwood with him, and swam toward the ship. There was no sign of the boy from District 4. Teo climbed onto the ship - incredible how easy he made it look - and then turned back. The girl from District 10 had followed him and was now standing on the shore, staring at him, her head tilted. Then she raised her finger and pointed at something behind him. Curious, Teo turned and looked straight into the pitch-black eyes of the boy from District 4. He grabbed Teo by the head and snapped his neck.

03. Quinee Durk (age: 14 | skills: bodily strength, observation | minutes survived: 125): Female tribute from District 10. Quinee was a chunky girl with a pug nose and - how fitting - pigtails. In District 10, she had helped out at a horse ranch, but the owner quickly dismissed her because her presence had always made the horses nervous. Sometimes Quinee could be very present, but sometimes she could lapse into lethargy, so that she was sometimes not even aware of her surroundings. Then it happened that she was asked a question but didn’t react at all. Luckily, she hadn’t fallen into rigidity at the start of the Games! Just like the others, she had saved herself upstairs and lingered there in the cool shade of a pillar. Not at all viewed as a serious opponent, she was left in peace until they had to realize that she of all people should be killed. One shouldn’t be deceived by her appearance, because Quinee had untamed powers. No wonder she was still alive. Shuffling, she headed toward the ship, humming to herself as she went. Then she stopped on the shore and looked around. The driftwood. There was the boy from District 1. First come, first served. They ran at the same time, but the boy was faster, much faster, and before Quinee knew it, he was floating on the water.

Showoff. There had to be something else she could use to stay afloat. Quinee turned around and slid her gaze along the shore. In the next moment, she pulled the body of the girl from District 12 into the water. She was the lightest of them all. Then she clung to the body and pushed herself forward with her feet. She managed to reach the boat and climbed it with some difficulty. The boy from District 1 still hadn't reached the ship. What a pity that he couldn't move as elegantly in the water as he could over land. But good. There were only three of them left. "All good things come by threes," she said, while watching the boy from District 1 paddling like a dog. Then she heard the soft creak of floorboards, turned, and plucked down her knife. The boy from District 4 ducked away just in time, and so the two duelled on the boat. Unconsciously, Quinee kept going backward until she hit the railing. She had no choice but to climb onto the railing. The boy from District 4 smiled smugly. It almost looked like Quinee was walking the plank. The boy clearly enjoyed having put her in a predicament. It took one push to send her tumbling into the water. But the boy just stood there in front of her, still smiling. Then he heard something, turned his head to the side and saw the District 1 boy swinging his leg straight over the railing. Quinee took advantage of that moment and lunged with the knife, but the boy from District 4 turned back to her in a flash and jammed his sword into Quinee's neck. With his other hand he pushed her, pulled out his sword, and Quinee fell backwards into the water.

The Hell Fire: Fighting both at the same time would have been more difficult for the boy from District 4. That way, he could concentrate on only one, his last, opponent. But where was he? The boy looked around and smelled smoke. The burning sun had set the ship's mast on fire. He looked around for something with which he could extinguish the fire. Only then did he become aware of his surroundings for the first time. Bodies lay scattered everywhere. The once clear water had turned blood-red, which is why, strictly speaking, it couldn’t even be called water. The fire was spreading. And his last opponent was hiding. Damn it. These things always had to happen to him.

02. Henning Dean (age: 18 | skills: swimming, bodily strength, close combat | minutes survived: 127): Male tribute from District 4. For Henning it was certain that sooner or later he would have to face his district partner in this water arena. Therefore, he had single-handedly put her out of the way and gained absolute rule over the water. With his slightly wavy blond hair, pale skin, and trained physique, he looked almost like one of those Greek deities who had been immortalized as statues. If only there weren't those pitch-black eyes that you didn't want to look at because they were so eerie. Since he had worked on a ship in District 4, the ship in the arena reminded him of his second home. He would win these Games, it was already certain. Unless he made a stupid mistake. "I'm allowed to kill animals," he had persuaded himself over and over again. "I'm allowed to kill animals, am I?" The first time he killed a human being, he found out that he didn't mind at all. In this game, it was so easy to blank out the fact that everyone else was also human and had a right to live. But twenty-three of them would lose that right forever, and why should that be him?

In his bloodlust, he hadn’t even noticed what had become of the arena. Hell on earth. The stench of blood rose to his nose. Henning leaned over the railing and threw up. Then he heard something. What exactly it was, he didn’t know yet. But it was doom calling for him.

01. Gem Rosemont (age: 15 | skills: bodily strength, hatchet, (?) | minutes survived: 127): Male tribute from District 1. “What next?” Gem had thought right after his name was called out by Mayor Pym. They took away his family, and now they were after his blood, too. Perhaps meeting a grisly end was his destiny. But when Gem saw how determined some of his opponents were to survive, it changed something in him. He wasn't going to let anyone get him down so easily. And things were going well for him. He had saved himself on a pillar and was lying there under the hot sun. At one point he propped himself up on his elbow and let his eyes wander over the arena. With his pout and sad eyes watering from the sun, it looked like he was crying. It was time to take action himself. But first he needed a weapon, and he already saw where he could get one. So Gem took part in the game, but didn’t enjoy it as some of his opponents apparently did. He stayed on the sideline most of the time, preferring to observe. But when he saw the girl from District 7 come out of the water with a hatchet, he couldn't sit still. In District 1, he had worked with a hatchet a lot, mining diamonds. He had been waiting for this moment because he had caught a glimpse of the weapon just before water had been let into the arena. His ocean blue eyes fixed on the weapon and at the same time signed the death warrant of the unsuspecting girl.

Gem felt that his opponents had died too quickly. A little over an hour ago, they had all been alive. Hiding behind pillars, sitting on the steps, walking around. Now they just lay there, some with pale faces turned to the burning sun, others with their faces on the dirty ground, some half lying in the water. The water had taken on a blood-red color. Great, how was he supposed to quench his thirst now? Anyway, he wouldn't be trapped in here much longer. Only two of his opponents were still alive. It was finally time, Gem thought to himself. He boarded the ship and, as the boy was busy with the girl from District 10, he smashed the floorboards with the hatchet. Then he jumped in and disappeared. Just in time, before the boy from District 4 turned to him again, Gem got out. Now the boy walked toward him, extending his sword threateningly. Gem took several steps back and, just like the girl from District 10, bumped against the railing. The boy grinned again. Gem climbed onto the railing and - dropped backwards into the water. The boy from District 4 leaned against the railing and stared down.

That's when Gem reappeared, threw back his wet hair, and swam off. So fast, and with the greatest ease the District 4 boy had ever seen. Gem wriggled along in the water, swimming on his back, diving under and resurfacing. How was that possible? The District 4 boy jumped into the water and swam after the boy. But the latter climbed back onto the ship and disappeared again. Then he heard someone singing. A pleasant voice that captivated him more and more. An enchanting voice. Slowly the boy walked towards the source, the gaping hole on the deck. Then he bent down, still mesmerized by the voice. And the next moment, a hatchet stuck in the middle of his face, and he fell over backwards. Gem climbed out of the hole, snatched the sword from the boy's hand and rammed it into his chest.

Half of the ship was now on fire. Gem jumped into the water, swam to shore and sat on the steps. Where were the Peacekeepers who had brought them to the arena? An hour passed. Gem had stripped off his clothes down to his underpants, the smell of blood had been too strong. Another hour passed. The Peacekeepers wanted to make sure that all the other tributes were dead. Then they appeared, threw Gem a soiled sheet, and led him out of the arena directly to the train station. People stared at him. So this was this year's winner. Why did he look so dirty? The boy last year had looked spick and span, and then he had laughed so happily. Ah, who cared? Gem got on the train. The bodies were load onto another compartment. A few hours later the train came to a stop, and they opened the door for him. Tying the sheet around his body like a toga, Gem hopped off, starting on his way. Then he heard something heavy fall to the ground and turned around. The body of his district partner had been thrown onto the lawn. The train started moving again and left the station. Gem hesitated. Then he went to her body and lifted it. He carried her for a while, but she was too heavy. He dropped her to the ground again, grabbed her by the collar and dragged her behind him. The people in the marketplace recognized him. So he had survived. Good for him. The girl's family buried her a few hours later. Gem washed the dirt off his body and then looked in the mirror. Now he looked as if he had never been in the Games.

No one had ever asked Gem where he had learned to swim so well, because no one was interested in the winners of the Hunger Games. And so Gem took his biggest secret to the grave. He wasn't from District 1, but from District 4. His parents had been fishermen who had moved from district to district by ship, like outlaws, selling their fish. Then, at some point, the borders were closed and Gem, who had been in District 1 on business with some of his parents' employees, was stuck there forever. He never learned what had become of his family. Indeed, the winners before the 11th Hunger Games had been denied the Victory Tour. Now, what did I get out of it? He was back at the place where he didn’t want to be. The gem of the sea, who had always hoped to eventually be allowed to travel to District 4 and cast a glance at the sea where he truly belonged, died at the age of 59. From fish poisoning - what an irony of fate.

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*Capitol favorites attracted Capitol citizens’ (and therefore whole Panem’s) attention the most. Various reasons for this included their unique skills, impressive deeds or exciting storylines. More screen time made it easier for them to survive in the arena compared to less noticed tributes (e.g. in terms of sponsor gifts). Also, there was a lower risk for them to be exposed to the Gamemaker’s arbitrariness (e.g. mutts, different dangers) due to contributing to the viewer’s excitement. The higher their placement (1st, 2nd, 3rd…), the better. Nevertheless, the possibility of encountering dangers in the arena was never completely ruled out.

Sorry for any language mistakes. English is not my native language. Please let me know about any mistakes I have made.

I’d be grateful for your feedback! I spend A LOT of time writing all of this, so I’d really like to know what you think.

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Finished recaps: The 1st, 6th, 16th, 25th, 36th, 49th, 50th, 65th, 66th, 68th, 69th, 70th, 71st, and 73rd Hunger Games

Upcoming recaps: The 9th, 22nd, 41st, 43rd, 52nd, 53rd, 62nd, 64th, 72nd, and 74th Hunger Games

[ditttiii]

Enchanted To Meet You || 05.

Summary:  No one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates, for that matter. Humans don't have soulmates, but shapeshifters do. What are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren't even human.

BTS is on a hiatus and ARMY thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. You believe that too, at least you did until you realised that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as Hybrids because apparently, you all are soulmates.

(Hybrid AU // Soulmate AU) (Fluff // humour // smut // angst  // eventually NSFW) (NC-18) (Ot7 x Reader) (slow burn)

banner by: @thebannershop​

series master-list 

There is an interlude between chapter 4 and chapter 5. Read it before proceeding ahead with this. The interlude can be found in the series master-list. 

Word count: 2831

Warnings: Curse words (pg-13) (sfw for now)

Gif credits: Btsislifeu on tenor.

Your heart races as your hands grow sweaty and uncomfortably clammy. There were noises, coming from inside your apartment. Noises that sound an awful lot like footsteps thumping against your floor.

Footsteps.

You let that thought sink into your head for a minute. Your door was locked since you had just unlocked it, you think your windows should be closed too, so the question arises as to who is in your bedroom? And how they managed to get there.

You debate not going in, turning back and maybe asking for your neighbors’ help, but then you realize your antisocial tendencies had led to you being so distant, that your neighbors’ probably didn't know your name either. 

The realization leads to a deep, sinking feeling in your stomach. Not for the first time ever you curse your own stupidity and lack of social skills.

'This is what you get for wanting space.' You think to yourself, as you let your hand finally let go of the death grip it had on the door.

There was music, coming out of your room. You frown when you hear the loud, booming, bass thrum through the walls and out to where you are. 

'What in the world?' You think, now utterly confused. 'Did I leave the speakers on?' You question yourself. Now confused and second-guessing yourself, you put your bags down by your feet near the door and slowly put one foot inside. 

Still wary and frightened of quite possibly being attacked, or worse kidnapped and murdered, you creep and make your way inside, the door behind you wide open in case you need to make a run for it. 

Noiselessly putting one foot in front of the other, you creep in. The glaring possibility of being hit on the head and growing unconscious with a stranger in your apartment, an incentive to be stealthy.  

As you walk towards your room, you realize that you are unarmed, with virtually no weapon or object to protect yourself with. Again cursing at your stupidity internally, you roam your eyes around the room, as you try to look for something that could be used as a potential weapon. 

After a few seconds of your eyes searching over your furniture and random knick-knacks, your eyes land on a metal bull. It was a showpiece that you had bought on an impulse, when you had first signed the lease to your apartment. 

You mentally thank every deity that you can think of as you make a move to grab it. You didn't particularly like the bull per se—it's design and color now seemed more dull to you than anything else but, it was heavy and if used right would cause some significant damage. 

With a metal bull in your hand, that might or might not protect you, you make a move towards your room. 

You can hear your heart thudding in your ears, the beats so loud you are afraid the intruder can hear them too. You have half a mind to just, march in there and demand why this person had decided to break and enter into your apartment of all the ones in your complex.  

'The hell would he even steal? Not like I have anything of value.' You think annoyed, as your converse clad feet touch the old, cheap, red carpet. Your floorboards are creaky too, but after a while, you had learned to identify which were the creaky ones and avoid them. 

For the first time, you think maybe you aren't as stupid as you had initially thought. 

Snapped out of your thoughts you abruptly freeze as you realize the thumping echoing throughout your apartment had just stopped. 

'Oh, fuck no.'

Gripping the bull tighter in your hands, you try to breathe in as quietly as you can, not daring to move an inch in fear of making any noise. For the umpteenth time, you curse whoever up there was supposed to be your guardian angel. 

'Whoever you are, you need to pull your shit together, because this is just ridiculous.' You think vehemently, the string of events far too strange and moving, for your steady, boring life. 

'Okay Y/N, you can do this. Just enter in quietly and bring the bull down on their head. No mercy. You will live to see tomorrow.'

Steadying your breath, you grip your bull tight and slowly push the door to your room open with your foot as you balance your weight on the other leg.

The door creaks open, it's unoiled, rusted hinges announcing your presence. 

Your eyes rapidly flicker from one corner to the other, trying to find the intruder. Your feet stay firm but glued, still outside the bedroom in the hallway. 

Once you are sure you don't see any human-like shape in plain sight, you pause and let your eyes scan your room. Detailing and picking at things, as you try to spot the signs of someone having been in there a few seconds ago. 

From your unmade bed to your medical textbooks stacked in the corner, you don't see any glaring disturbances. Your room is small, to begin with, but with the stacks of textbooks and your desk cum nightstand pushed into a corner, there wasn't much space left. 

Certainly not enough for anyone to be able to hide without being obvious.

When your search yields no results, you frown and inch closer. Walking tentatively inside with tense muscles, ready for a jump scare and swift attack. 

However, when neither happens, you are left both relieved and confused. With furrowed and an increasingly familiar growing frown, you slowly turn into a circle, double-checking to see if you had missed something. 

'Am I being haunted?' 

The thought suddenly doesn't seem as strange as it might have before. 

"Hello? Is anybody here?" You call out, not really expecting a reply. You don't think if someone is hiding in your room, they would actually reply back, but you also don't know what to do as you move forward. 

You don't believe there's a protocol in place for what one should do if they think their home is broken into but can't find any evidence to back up their assumption. 

It's then that you register the pile of clothes lying on the floor, in the middle of the room.

'Did I leave those out?'

You question yourself as you look at the random pile of clothes. You were in a rush when you had left for shopping, so it wasn't a far-fetched possibility. 

Thinking back, you recall giving Kookie a bath—

"OHMYGOD KOOKIE!" 

You furiously curse out loud as you realize that you can't see him anywhere. The fear that had abated a little by now, coming back in full force. 

You spin on your heels and rush out to your hall. Checking all the dark corners and places your bunny could have taken residence in. 

"Kookie! Kookie! Hey baby, I am back home, where are you?" You call out hoping he'd hear you and come out from wherever he was hiding. Some part of your brain brings forward the possibility that someone might have taken him, or that you had lost him. But you tamp down the thought before it can fully form, too scared and anxious to entertain that possibility. 

You can feel the back of your eyes sting, as tears cloud your vision. But you refuse to let them fall because now was not the time. Finding Kookie was your number one priority, and everything else would simply have to wait until you find him—panic attack included. 

You double—triple, check the hall and kitchen, your apartment was small and, there weren't many places he could have used to hide, but you stubbornly check again and again. Your voice breaks as you call out to him, your desperation rising with every passing minute. 

"Dammit, Kook! Where are you!?" You wail, as your control over your tears snaps, and they slip out. Warm, wet trails of tears run down your face as you let out a choked sob. 

You don't know how—it hasn't even been a week since you had brought Kookie home, but for some reason, the thought of losing him, crushes you—makes your heart feel unbearably heavy, as it squeezes painfully in your chest. 

'Get a grip, for fucks sake! Someone could still be in the apartment, hiding—waiting, for the chance to assault you.' Some part of you berates yourself but you can't even focus on that thought. 

The only thing that you can think of is, if your baby bunny was safe or not. The endless possibilities of what could have happened to him run like a horror film through your head. Most of them you realize, end in you never seeing him again. 

You run your hands through your hair, pulling the strands back none too gently as your eyes roam the interior of your apartment again. With still no signs of Kookie anywhere, you wipe your tears with the end of your sleeve and rush to your room. 

Some part of you can feel Kookies' presence. As insane as the thought sounds to your own ears, you can sense him somewhere. It's like an unknown pull—a tug, that makes you rush back to your room. 

Hanging on to the doorframe of your bedroom with one hand, you lean on it as you try to steady your breathing. The adrenaline, and the tears, make it hard for you to breathe as you stand there and helplessly follow your instincts. 

Glancing through your room again, your gaze trails from wall to wall, before you finally see a movement from the corner of your eyes. Your gaze sharpens as your eyes fall on the pile of clothes in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You move closer, as you see a movement again, a tiny bit wary. 

You walk closer, only to see a long, floppy ear rise from between the heap. As your eyes hone in on that ear, you all but lurch to the pile in your haste to get closer to it.

Ripping away the clothes from on top of him, your eyes land on your rabbits' hunched over the figure. His ears that were floppy now both stand straight, turning towards you as if picking up the sound of your heart beating. 

As your eyes zero in on Kookies' figure, the nauseating fear at last abates. That nagging, tugging feeling in your heart, waning with it. Your figure hunches, as all the breath leaves your body. 

You want to crouch down, cup him, hold him close and hug him, but the trembling of your hands stops you from doing any of it. Instead, you let your eyes take in his figure, as a reassurance that you had not lost him. 

The residual tears of relief continue to fall from your eyes, as your eyes shift up to the ceiling. 

Slowly loosening the tight grip your fists had formed, you throw the bull away on your bed. The thump of the impact rings in your ears as your eyes close and tears of pure, unadulterated relief continue to slip down your cheeks, leaving behind a wet trail, before dripping down onto the floor. 

After a few seconds of breathing in and out and calming yourself away from a panic attack, you pick up Kookie and take him out onto the couch. 

Settling him there, you turn away your gaze from his at the last second. 

You don't know why, but you have a feeling that if you look into his honey-like chocolate eyes now, you will cry. Giving him a soft pat on his head, you push yourself up from the crouch you had been in and move to your room. 

With Kookie finally found and safe, your previous concern rushes to the forefront of your mind. 

'Right! Gotta check the locks.'

Moving towards the window, you pull back your curtains to check on the lock. Your eyes fall onto the latch, only to find it— 

Locked.

Just like you had thought it would be. Dropping the curtains back, you shift away and move to check all the other latches. 

For the next five minutes, you meticulously check every single window and latch in your apartment, making sure that none of them were open or loose. Once, you are finally done with your inspection, you go and shut the front door, secure in your knowledge that there was no intruder in your apartment. 

Moving to your room, you pick up the pile of clothes from the floor and start folding it to put it back into your cupboard. 

The learned, mundane motion of folding your clothes gives your fidgety hands something to do and finally, you let yourself think. 

All the doors and windows were locked shut when you came in, so there was no chance of someone sneaking into your apartment. 

'But then what about that music?' 

As you think back to the sound that you had heard when you first entered, you turn to check on your stereo, only to stumble and almost face plant onto the floor below. 

Letting out a low curse, your eyes shift to see what it was that you had stumbled upon only for your eyes to widen as you realize it was your speakers remote.  

'Aah, now I see.'

It's then that you connect the dots inside your mind.  

When you think back to it, the thumps could very well just have been Kookie hopping—stomping, around with his feet. 

'The remote was probably on the floor, and he must have switched the music system on by mistake.' Your brain rationalizes, as you bend down with a huff and pick up the remote. 

Placing everything back to where it belonged, you finally move out of the room and to the kitchen for dinner, not pausing to look at Kookie. 

You are just so tired—tired of your studies, your work, but more than anything else, you are tired of feeling like you are missing out on something. 

The feeling doesn’t make sense—you don't make sense, and it's probably just the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but you feel this bone-weary fatigue, deep in your bones, one that goes beyond the realm of just being physical.  

It's like your soul is exhausted. 

You keep feeling like something's missing, like you've finally had it, figured it out—and then it slips away, until you are left grasping at thin air. 

Putting the pan down, with a little more force than necessary, you groan—annoyed at your sudden teenage-like, angst filled thoughts.

'What in the world is wrong with me!?' 

After dinner, you set the bed you had bought for Kookie near your own bed. You had successfully managed to lug up all your shopping bags, but the many trips up and down had left you feeling thoroughly exhausted.

With the bed in place, you move to your washroom for a warm, quick shower before bed. The weariness of a long day, making your limbs feel heavy as you move to get a pair of pajamas to change into.   

You swing by the living room before your shower only to find Kookie still munching on his dinner. His eyes twinkling, even from a distance. 

Reassured with the knowledge that he would be occupied with his food, you quickly rush to take a shower.

Showered and dressed, you curl onto the couch beside Kookie. With your T.V softly running in the back, you let your eyes go droopy as you cuddle him closer. 

The feel of his warm, wet, tiny tongue over your cheeks makes you smile dopily. You run your hands through his fur, before they glide over to his ears—them twitching in response to your feather-light touch. 

"You Babyboo scared the living daylights out of me today," You whisper softly and push your face closer to him as the warm puffs of his short, quick breaths, hit your face like gentle caresses. 

Wrapping an arm around him, you cuddle him closer to yourself, your boy heat enveloping him like a warm cocoon. 

Lodging him under your chin and close to your chest, you drop a quick kiss on his head and giggle when his long ears tickle your chin. 

You turn to watch the TV but miss the way his eyes soften, them growing warmer and shinier as they look on at you, brimming with affection. You miss the way his entire body melts at your touch—folds between your curves, closer to your heart. 

But as you lay there, Kookie wrapped around you with his ears pressed close to your heart, your body feeling loose and your soul feeling cherished, what you don't miss is the realization that the exhausting from before is gone, and in its place is a gentle feeling of comfort, of belonging—of love. 

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[eggtoasties]

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha / Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Summary: He saw her throw a man into a table and now he's entranced.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744067

_____________________________

He’s off the mission roster for two weeks.

Tsunade said, “Consider it a vacation, Uchiha,” while massaging her nose bridge.

Apparently, one person shouldn’t voluntarily accept three back to back solo missions running from Earth, Lightning, then back to Earth country. She had mumbled something about “disrespect for authority,” “emotional constipation,” and “generations of inbreeding,” along with other things he couldn’t quite catch when he came back with his chakra dangerously low and slightly feverish. He ignored her death glares while she filled out his medical leave forms and flicked through his mission reports.

Despite what Tsunade thought about his work-life balance he saw it as a healthy exercise in assessing one’s physical and mental limitations…for science.

He shifted his weight side to side and assessed her. Her trademark pigtails draped over her shoulders and her green haori was draped on the back of her heavy office chair. She had one hand braced under her chin while she diligently signed documents and hummed at his mission details. He stared at a chip in the wooden floorboards beneath his feet and scrunched his nose at the state of his sandals.

“Y’know, Tsunade-sama, as the most prolific, intelligent, and innovative medical ninja in all the great nations,” he began, ignoring the way her pen cracked in her grip, “Shouldn’t you have a professional stake in knowing just how much one of your elite shinobi can handle?” He flashed her a crooked grin as her brow twitched.

Tsunade placed her pen down and sat back heavily into her chair, steepling her fingers to her forehead then looking into the rafters of her office. Undeterred, he continued.

“Surely as the Hokage—as my Hokage—as my favorite Hokage,” he blubbered on, gesturing with his hands, “Shouldn’t you be proud and relieved that I learned that one can actually survive on Lightning country’s bitter reed roots for like, a week straight?”

Barring of course, the violent color it turned his urine, the incredibly vivid dreams he had after about 3 days, and the subtle auditory hallucinations after 5 days, which he coincidentally forgot to tell his prolific, intelligent, and most favorite Hokage.

He dodged a paper weight that ripped him from his musings on the potential recreational uses of said plant root as she barked at him to go to the hospital.

The last place he wanted to go was the hospital.

He smiled at her, all dimples and pretty straight teeth. “Tsunade-sama, did I mention your beauty and graciousness?” putting heavy emphasis on ‘beauty.’ “I must’ve because a little birdie at the gates told me about a B ranked escort mission deep into Wind country next week that I would just love to—” he dodged a stapler aimed for his face.

“Get out of my office.”

“Hokage-sama—”

“Your initial priority was your mission in Earth,” she looked at him pointedly. “I gave the second one in Lightning because I figured that would give you enough time to soul search or find the missing braincells your ancestors must have scattered across the elemental Nations throughout the decades,” she waved her hands absentmindedly. “But I guess no luck there since you conned a chunin squad out of their reconnaissance mission in Earth.” He internally winced at the sharp tone of her voice.

He had happened to run across a very green looking chunin squad at the border of Fire country and told them that he was headed that way anyways and that they should head back to Konoha and request a more exciting mission. It didn’t take much persuading once they realized they were talking to shunshin no Shisui, and what idiots would openly defy a legendary shinobi?

“Shisui!” Tsunade hissed, “Are you even listening to me? Since you seemed so eager to take missions well beneath your skill level, I can arrange it so you’re on D levels for the next month—don’t give me that look, we’re in peace time—if I actually needed you, I would’ve sent you a summons but being your gracious Hokage,” she rolled her eyes, “I let you play precocious genin.” The contempt was dripping from her voice while he stared into her Byakugou seal.

“Listen,” she sighed, resting her arms on her desk, “Rest and don’t go overboard on training. I’d force you to stay overnight at the hospital just so you wouldn’t even think about expending chakra, but Sakura’s out on a mission,” that tidbit made his ears perk. “And I don’t get paid enough to drop kick you back into a hospital bed when you eventually sneak out—”

“—well then, I’ll get going, thank you Hokage-sama,” he said with a bow, shunshining away from her death glare.

Tsunade sighed, hands twitching to reach for one of the ceramic bottles hidden away in a drawer. Instead, she braced her hands on her desk and pushed, swiveling herself towards the large office windows. Staring at the Hokage monument, she allowed herself a wistful smile, remembering the warmth of young love in the pale sky and emerald trees.

Shisui stared at his ceiling after his check up at the hospital and flirting his way out of staying overnight on the account of his abs being very much intact despite poor nutrition—“Yes, could you please check them?” He grins at the memory of the flustered nurse, fondly thinking of the verbal lashing he’d get from Sakura if she caught wind.

She’d tell him that he needs to stop terrorizing the nurses so he could heal and he’d tell her he’d stay overnight only if she’d be his personal medic. Or, you know, he’d offer with a sly grin, she could play live in nurse. Shisui, she’d say exasperatedly. He could imagine the way she’d pinch her nose bridge and run a hand through her pretty hair. He’d throw his hands up in concession after she sized him up wondering if she should beat him into submission with her tiny fists.

He’d tell her to lower her weapons of mass destruction and take her small hands in his larger ones, thumb tracing over her worn knuckles.

Sighing and ignoring the ache in his chest, Shisui grabbed one of the many magazines scattered on his coffee table and mindlessly flipped through it. His feet tapped out an irregular rhythm while he glossed over the words on the page, thinking of the past year.

He and Genma had just returned from a grueling undercover mission on the border of Grass and Waterfall. The duo ambled into the bar, bones weary, and aching for a drink. They eased themselves at the bar front, sipping on drinks that bit at the back of the throat.

Appreciatively inhaling the spicy sweet aroma, he finally made eye contact with Sasuke, who was strangely handling a large stack of ryo in one hand and a notebook in the other.

Towards the back of the room, a small crowd of jounin and ANBU regulars were circled around a single table. Sasuke’s pink-haired teammate sat at one end and gestured at the empty seat across from her. Behind Sakura, other members of her graduating class were clapping Sakura’s shoulders and laughing amongst themselves. Sakura said something teasing—Shisui could tell by the way her eyebrow gracefully sloped up and the impish smile that graced her face. Sasuke apparently backed her up, haughtily puffing his chest out and crossing his shoulders, slanting his chin at the empty seat across from his teammate.

Clearly goading the group of older shinobi, a veteran, Shisui remembered as being exceptionally fond of decapitating his enemies by hand, swiveled the empty chair backwards and sat heavily, elbow anchored at the table, formally accepting Sakura’s challenge. The shinobi tauntingly fluttered his fingers and subtly flexed his arm, causing his ANBU tattoo to ripple.

To Shisui’s surprise, Sasuke smiled. With teeth. Shisui, who had a lifetime’s experience decoding stoic Uchiha mannerisms—and especially Itachi and Sasuke’s micro-expressions, read Sasuke’s smile as a feral, shit eating grin. Sasuke spread his arms wide, like a ring master at his very own circus, and smirked as the older group whispered amongst themselves. Shisui watched as Sasuke meticulously took notes in his notebook and collected ryo from the shinobi.

The members of his graduating class positively leered at the older group, their eyes blood thirsty.

“Hideki probably shouldn’t have been promoted to ANBU captain if he’s stupid enough to think he’ll win against Sakura-chan,” Genma murmured around his senbon.

“Hideki’s arm is the size of both our heads combined—and your head’s fucking massive,” Shisui snickered. “I know Sakura-san’s the Godaime’s apprentice but I thought the Godaime’s strength was hereditary?”

Genma turned his head from side to side, sighing at the way his vertebrae cracked, “Nah, you’re not in the village long enough to know anything anymore. But Sakura-chan’s basically a mini Tsunade, but just a little more evil.”

Shisui started at that, trying to recall what he knew about Sakura.

Pink. Massive crush on Sasuke that apparently dissipated if the way Sasuke always had giant bruises, angrily grumbling Sakura’s name, was anything to go by. One of the head medics at a ridiculously young age. He knew she was strong. Little Sasuke’s indignation at his “weak” teammate gradually turned to respect and trust throughout the years and Shisui knew that the Godaime wouldn’t take just anyone as her apprentice. But Tsunade-sama strong?

“I thought she was a medic.”

Genma snorted.

Shisui lazily leaned back against the bar. His eyes traced over Sakura’s arms—corded with muscle, but nowhere near her opponent’s. Her hand was consumed by Hideki’s, her visible four fingers hardly taking up half of his hand.

Channeling chakra to their ears so they could catch any exchanges, Genma and Shisui listened to Hideki coo at Sakura.

“Try not to cry when you lose, petal, I’d hate to see you upset.”

Sakura smiled, and loosened her shoulders.

As Sasuke finished writing his notes and collecting his ryo, he counted down from three with a gleam in his eye that made Shisui shift uncomfortably. At Sasuke’s “Go,” nothing happened. Hideki’s friends stared at his clasped hand in confusion which quickly changed to incredulousness.

Sakura’s grin, stretched impossibly wider as she tipped her head back and licked her lips.

“Don’t hold back your tears, petal, I love seeing grown men cry.”

Her hand slammed forward and through the table, flinging Hideki off his chair into the debris and woodchips. He laid sprawled across the floor, looking up at Sakura dazedly. Sakura responded by resting her cheek against a fist and pouting.

“And here I thought you’d be a little more of a challenge. Sad”

With one half of the crowd cheering and whooping and the other half looking part disbelieving and part terrified, Sasuke promptly handed Sakura a chunk of her winnings and flung an arm across her shoulders for post-win gloating.

Shisui tried not to let the surprise show on his face but apparently failed to do so as Genma snorted, “Told you so.” Not only was he surprised at what must have been a fraction of her strength, but Shisui’s mind was reeling at Sasuke’s outward fondness for someone other than his mother and apparent talent as a fucking bookmaker.

As the commotion died down, the crowd parted as Sakura made her way towards the bar.

“Hope you didn’t wound his pride too much Sakura-chan, a little unbecoming for grown men to cry at a bar, no?” Genma said, while handing her a drink.

“It’s been a busy week for me, I had to fulfill my monthly ‘make men cry’ quota somehow, right?” Sakura responded, taking a greedy sip.

Genma moved his senbon from one side to the other. “Are Hatake’s tears not enough? Heard you actually get him to go to post-mission health checks on the regular now.”

She rolled her eyes and abandoned her straw to take a deep swig of her drink. As if realizing Shisui’s presence for the first time she jerked her head towards him.

“Oh hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you Shisui-san, I’ve heard so much about you—I’m guessing your guys’ mission went okay?” she asked while looking at them up and down, assessing both their physical states.

“Sakura-san,” Shisui clucked, “Are you checking us out? I’ll have you know that Genma is much older than you think.” He ignored Genma’s side glare in favor of catching Sakura’s amused snort. “And I didn’t realize Sasu-chan talked about me, that is so adorable, I hope it was all good things? Shisui flirted.

Surprising Shisui, Sakura rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Fuck you man, you wish you’d look half as good as me in a few years, just because you think you’re above daily SPF doesn’t mean your skin’s not going to age like a leather glove. You don’t hide under your ANBU mask—” Shisui glared harshly and elbowed Genma in the stomach, “—enough for the sun to not be damaging, Uchiha genes be damned.” Genma managed to wheeze out.

“Relax Shisui-san,” Sakura said placatingly, “Your ANBU status is unclassified information for me. Also,” she leaned in towards him, “It’s not as if the whole village doesn’t know, she dropped to a theatrical whisper, “That Uchiha Shisui is ANBU.”

Blinking at her, but conceding to her logic, Shisui apologetically patted his partner’s shoulder.

“Also,” Sakura quipped, “I was the one who specifically chose you two as duo to infiltrate and wrote the tactical plan in your mission scroll.”

Shisui’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re above Sakura-chan’s tactical planning,” Genma said. “She totally predicted that the target’s estranged stepson was going to come out of the woodworks in some shady way,” Sakura visibly brightened, “Thanks for including that theory in Addendum C, Sakura-chan—and like, isn’t her handwriting so much better than half the Nara’s in tactics?” Genma babbled animatedly.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Shisui said, “So you’re telling me you’re a top tier medic, Hokage’s apprentice, an active juonin—who has to deal with Sasuke’s mood swings nonetheless—and part of the tactics squad?”

“Yup,” she responded, popping the ‘p.’ “But I don’t go on every single Team 7 mission anymore. Not that I don’t love them, but rasengan-ing and chidori-ing your way through battle plans gets a little tedious and a gal needs variety,” she joked, waving her hand towards the back of the room where Sasuke and Naruto were apparently haggling over the worth of the destroyed table with the owner of the bar. “Also, I’m not formally in tactics. Shikaku-san’s been my informal strategy mentor for a few years.” She shrugged and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

“I mean you spend so much time in the office, Shikaku’s basically like your work husband, ne?” Genma smirked into his drink, “Or is it little Shikaku junior who taught you the ropes?”

Shisui ignored Sakura’s withering stare. “Godaime’s apprentice, Hatake’s student, Shikaku’s…mentee.” He let out a low whistle, “Looks like you basically meet all the requirements to be future Hokage.”

“Too bad Sakura-chan has a temper just like Tsunade-sama’s; the council members would gouge their hearts out,” Genma chuckled.

“Maybe you should spend more time in the field instead of on Hokage guard rotations, then you wouldn’t be talking so much shit.” Sakura’s lip curled into a small smile, despite her outward annoyance.

“Ooh don’t forget Ibiki, he and Sakura are like two peas in a pod. It’s horrible.”

“Wait, so how do you know this idiot?” Shisui interrupted, gesturing at Genma.

“Well,” Genma started, while motioning to the bartender for another drink, “It all started in the coat closet of Hokage tower, some filing boxes, and a leather—”

“Shut up Genma,” Sakura slapped the back of his head. “I was spending a lot of time at the tower, studying, doing paperwork, running errands, that Genma and I just started chatting. Then I was placed on some missions with him and that’s basically it.” Sakura shrugged and reached over to steal Genma’s new drink from him.

“Plus,” Genma added, pouting and making grabby motions at his stolen beverage, “Tag-team bullying Kakashi with her is a whole new level of fun.”

Sakura giggled and Shisui drowned in it.

Although wildly busy with ANBU missions, clan meetings, and his gradual transition to commander of the Police Force, he had decided then to make an active effort to drop in Sakura’s life from time to time. Afterall, he didn’t realize Konoha still churning out little prodigies since well, Itachi.

Several weeks later, he found himself wandering the streets of the village after a mission. A straightforward solo assassination. He was in and out with no trace. Although the post-mission physical evaluation was only semi-mandatory for shinobi that Tsunade trusted to seek care, he figured he could pop in to see if Sakura was busy.

He went into her office through the window and saw her at her desk. She was leaning back in her chair, exhaustion radiating off her as she greedily sucked at a pouch, fisting the small bag to get every drop.

“Ohoho is Haruno-sensei drinking on the job? Guess you really are a mini Tsunade, but isn’t it a bit early to turn to alcohol so young?” He teased, although he walked towards her with worry clear on his face, though she couldn’t see with her eyes closed in weariness.

“It’s applesauce, idiot.”

“Huh?”

“It’s applesauce. In a squeezy pouch.” She cracked an eye open, “Did you want one?”

“You seem hungry.” He eyed the four empty pouches on her desk. “Why not eat at the cafeteria?” He ran his hand through his curls, assessing her slight under eye circles and raw hands.

“You know what they say about hospital food,” she said dryly.

He looked at her blankly.

“God you need to stay local for longer periods of time.” She sighed.

“Would you like it if I did?”

“Well apparently someone needs to civilize you.”

Shisui couldn’t help the heat that crept up his neck at her answer and he looked at her in uncharacteristic silence.

Taking a deep breath and releasing, Sakura hunched over her desk, bracing her chin under her interlocked fingers. “Barging into someone’s private office through the window is a bit rude, don’t you think, Shisui-san?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and he internally stammered. She looked at him as if he were a lab specimen, and he swore he felt like he was in an interrogation cell. “Now I know Sasuke has the social capabilities of a rock,” Sakura continued, “But Itachi and Mikoto-san are very polite so you must have been taught manners at some point.”

“I didn’t realize you were so close to the Uchihas, Sakura-sensei,” he said lightly. He wracked through his brain to think of any instances of pink hair in the Uchiha district, but he was hardly ever home. His time in Konoha was largely spent working at the Police Force or with Itachi and Itachi never mentioned Sakura becoming such a familiar fixture in his life that she referred to him without an honorific.

Sakura rolled her eyes and produced another pouch. “I’ve known Sasuke for over a decade—and have the privilege of being one of his only two friends.” She shook her head fondly. “Also as one of the head medics, an active jounin, and administrative queen,” she said sarcastically, “Don’t you think,” she paused as she uncapped her snack. “That I would get to know a few Uchihas?”

Although Shisui was the one standing, he felt as though she were peering down at him, flicking him around in a mental boxing ring and he was losing. Badly.

“Ah, sorry Sakura-sensei,” he said laughing, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the sentimental keepsakes at the top of her desk. “Maybe I was hoping that me and Sasuke would be the only Uchiha in your life.” He gave her a crooked grin and was met with a deadpan stare. Shifting on his feet he heaved a weak chuckle. “Maybe I got hit in the head a little too hard on this last mission, I can go, I’m sure you’re very,” he gestured at the small mountain of pouch corpses on her desk, “Busy.”

He made the hand sign to shunshin into a dark corner where he could bang his head against a wall in embarrassment and shame when she suddenly appeared in front of him. Her speed taking him by surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” She gently grasped his shoulder to make him crouch down to her height and raised a glowing green palm to his head. “That should have been the first thing you led with.” He felt the cool rush of her chakra at the base of his head which did little to quell the heat rising to his cheeks. “Also, the protocol is for injured ANBU to check in from the side annex,” Sakura continued angrily.

He took in her furrowed brows and the way her deep green eyes narrowed in concentration. Her soft apricot skin he noted, had a dusting of freckles across her delicate nose bridge, and he caught a sliver of pink as she wet her lips. His mind began to work overtime as he realized she would find out he had no injuries.

“You’ve sustained absolutely no damage. Guess this is another thing you and Sasuke actually have in common,” she mentioned wryly.

He looked at her questioningly, still bent down towards her, wondering if he’d be able to smell her shampoo this close.

“Incredibly thick skulls,” she waved her hands absentmindedly.

Shisui stifled an indignant choke, as she continued while walking back to her desk. “So, why did you happen to randomly come through my window?” she said, as she settled back into the leather armchair. “I’m on the fifth floor and there’s no balcony. Surely you didn’t just…find yourself here.”

“No you’re right,” Shisui said, hands fiddling with a knickknack at the front of her desk, “I wanted to know if you,” he paused as she stared at his hands. Ah, he thought. Another social faux paus. “Wanted to…” he trailed off a little unsure and stared at her desk then at her Byakugo seal. “Get food?” He mentally slapped himself.

Sakura snorted. Shisui was beginning to hate being on the receiving end of her snorts.

“Nice save. I guess sustaining myself on applesauce probably isn’t the best way to go about life, huh?” She gathered her stash and dumped it into the wastebasket at the side of her desk and began to tidy the mountains of paperwork and files. “Sorry, but I have a surgery in twenty minutes I need to prep for, maybe another time Shisui-san. Unless you want to state your original purpose I’m afraid you’ll have to get out before you watch me go through a sixth pouch,” she said cheekily.

“Would you want to spar sometime,” Shisui blurted out.

“Ah, another Uchiha to beat up,” she smiled wickedly. “Are you sure though? Just ask your cousin, I beat the shit out of him every other week.”

“Sasu-chan’s strong, but he’s still learning,” he smirked. “I’m sure you’ll find me significantly more interesting.” He said confidently. Finally he thought. Easing his posture and leisurely putting his hands in his pockets while staring down at her. One topic of conversation where he wasn’t constantly putting his foot in his mouth.

“No,” she said slowly. “I mean your other cousin, Itachi. I beat the shit out of Sasuke like every day at training,” she scoffed. “His brother on the other hand is a little more… interesting.”

Shisui gaped. He hadn’t realized that Itachi had regular spars with anyone besides him and whatever team Itachi was assigned to. Shisui narrowed his eyes at the double life his cousin has been seemingly keeping secret.

Ripping him from his thoughts, Sakura got up and shuffled a few files underneath her arm. “I’ve got to go to the OR,” she explained. “That stands for operating room, since apparently you spend so little time in hospitals,” she said as she walked past him.

He sniffed at that.

“But if you’re available, we can spar this Sunday afternoon—I prefer the Uchiha training ground a kilometer away from the abandoned storehouse, but let me know what works for you,” Sakura said as she left Shisui standing in the middle of her office with a wave.

Once the door clicked shut he stared at the empty space at her desk. He barked out a disbelieving laugh and wrung his hands through his hair and paced in circles. He glanced around her office, noting the touches of personality between massive tomes of medical textbooks and scrolls.

A recent picture of team 7 on her desk, an orange throw blanket folded neatly at the end of the little gray couch tucked into the corner of the room. Little wooden figurines sat on her bookshelf, scrolls of traditional black ink art on her walls, a—was that a ceremonial Uchiha fan?

It was only their second meeting and she managed to knock him off balance once again.

She couldn’t make their Sunday spar, Sasuke relayed to Shisui, when his older cousin was prowling around his home looking for Itachi. She’d been sent on a diplomatic mission to Suna and it would take two weeks, Sasuke explained. After his curt explanation, Sasuke assessed Shisui and after a beat, narrowed his eyes at him.

Amused, Shisui poked at Sasuke’s cheek earning him a glare.

“What’s wrong Sasu-chan, jealous your teammate’s bored of you and wants to spar with stronger, more handsome Uchiha?” Shisui taunted.

At the insinuation that he was weak, and the unmentioned fact that Shisui was comparing Sasuke to Itachi, Sasuke bristled.

“Tch, it’s your broken bones, Shisui.”

“Who breaks bones during a spar?”

“Annoying medics.” Sasuke responded with an eye roll.

“Hm,” Shisui hummed and tipped his head back towards the sun. The pleasant warmth made him sigh and he closed his eyes to the sounds of tinkling wind chimes and distant children laughing. The back porch of the head family’s home opened into a serene garden. A sprawling tree that Itachi and Shisui used sit under while drinking tea sat next to a small koi pond where Sasuke would amuse himself by poking at the fish when he was younger.

He looked to the slightly open screen doors of the back porch and remembered why he came.

“Where’s Itachi, what’s he up to—do you know?”

“Making food with Kaa-san.”

“Ever the conversationalist, Sasuke. Did ‘Tachi and Mikoto Oba-san banish you to the back because you’re going through a hormonal spike?”

Sasuke gestured at the broom in his hand in obvious explanation. “Tch. I think they’re talking about their hair.”

Shisui laughed and Sasuke quirked his lip.

Sasuke and Shisui headed inside and heard the scrape of metal spoons against bowls and light music in the background.

“Coconut oil really increased the thickness of my hair and was an effective detangler. It’s unfortunate it’s only readily available in Suna. The import taxes make it overly expensive here.”

Mikoto hummed. “Well if it’s that effective I don’t mind trying it out, did you try the avocado mask I put in your bathroom?”

Shisui and Sasuke failed to cover up their snickers and were met with a menacing, spoon-wielding Mikoto.

“Now, I don’t want to hear anything from two boys who won’t put on sunscreen unless I tell them to. Sasuke,” Mikoto clucked, “Do you even exfoliate when I remind you to?”

Itachi laughed into his tea as Sasuke turned pink at his mother’s admonishing.

Wiping his hands on his apron, which Shisui amusedly noted was a pastel yellow with white trimming, Itachi turned back to scoop meat lightly in the middle of the circular dumpling wrapper.

“I asked Sakura to bring back coconut oil when she returns from her diplomatic meeting.”

“Nii-san you need to stop requesting random things from her, she’s not you courier,” Sasuke countered, taking a seat across the table where his brother and mother were working.

“She’s actually the one who offered and the one who first told me about coconut oil. Apparently,” Itachi picked at imaginary lint on his sleeve, “Hyuuga Neji-san gave her some…unsolicited advice,” he finished wryly.

Mikoto chuckled when Sasuke glared at the dumplings Mikoto was delicately pinching at the mention of Neji.

“What’s wrong, Sasu-chan,” Shisui sing-songed, throwing his arm across an indignant Sasuke, “Jealous of Neji-san? He does have pretty hair. By the way,” he said, watching Itachi’s hands, “Since when have you and Sakura-san been so close?”

Sasuke shoved Shisui off of him and scoffed. “That pompous stick up his a—sorry Kaa-san—was a dick—ah, sorry—to Sakura. And he’s not even that good looking.” Sasuke finished with a sniff and an apologetic smile towards his mother.

“And when did you and Sakura-san become friends?” Shisui repeated himself to Itachi, not missing the way his Aunt and Sasuke glanced at each other.

“She’s Sasuke and Kakashi’s teammate,” Itachi responded slowly. “Plus, she accompanies me to the sweet shops and bakeries you and Sasuke refuse to try,” he added with a slight pout which Mikoto frowned at and Sasuke looked up exasperatedly.

Shisui chuckled at his cousin’s sweet tooth. “So, how did you become friends?” He tried again.

Sasuke looked at Shisui disgusted. “She’s my teammate,” he hissed.

Shisui ignored him and looked innocently at Itachi, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes. Mikoto giggled at their antics.

“Shisui, are you interested in Sakura-chan?” she questioned eagerly.

“Obaa-san, I saw her throw a man into a table a few weeks ago,” he recalled excitedly, leaning in towards the table. “And then she told me she beats the shit—ah whoops, sorry—out of Sasuke and Itachi on the regular, how could I not be interested?”

Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke simultaneously raised an eyebrow at him and cocked their heads to the side. Creepy, Shisui internally shivered.

“Hn.”

“Are you…jealous, ‘Tachi?” Shisui asked incredulously.

“Tch,” Sasuke responded.

“God, I give up,” Shisui wailed to the bemusement of his family members and reached over to help Mikoto with the dumplings only to have Sasuke slap his hand away.

“Get away from those, you fold the ugliest dumplings.” Shisui gaped at his younger cousin in disbelief. “We’re freezing these for Sakura when she comes back—idiot never has real food in her fridge—don’t touch them,” Sasuke finished with a warning as Itachi nodded along with his brother.

Chuckling, Mikoto continued to expertly pinch the edges of the dumplings and absentmindedly hummed to herself. She drew up a mental Punnett square and slightly frowned at the low odds of having a pink-haired Uchiha baby.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Sixteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 8.8k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“You’re still sure you want to do this?” Finnick asks, you give him a look.

“If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Feel free to join Katniss’ star squad.” you snort at the name of it, “Boggs already made us the offer and said we can change our minds at any time up until we leave.”

“I remember.” Finnick says, he grips his shiny, new trident in his hand tightly, before deciding that he might as well strap it to his body so he’s not carrying it around everywhere, “I just thought you might want to back out is all.”

You roll your eyes, “The day I back out of anything, is the day I’m a coward.”

“I’m Commander Paylor of District Eight.” Paylor begins, Finnick’s head immediately snaps up to see her, you practically already have Paylor’s speech memorized, “I’m a soldier like all of you so, here’s what I know. For the first time in our lifetimes, we’re standing together with thirteen districts. From what I see here, we’ve already made history.”

The clapping starts first, the cheering is a second behind. There’s a shitload of people here. No only in the streets, but on the rooftops too. Volunteers from every district have been flown in, leading up to this moment. What you did yesterday, really opened up a ton of opportunities.

“But history doesn’t stop to celebrate, and we’re facing an enemy that will not change and will never surrender. President Snow has pulled back peacekeepers to fortify the center of the city. He’s evacuating residents from outer blocks, these civilians will be confused and desperate. You are under orders not to target them.”

Paylor motions to the crowd, “We’re deploying medical brigades to help anyone in need. We’ll show the Capitol people who we are.” she motions to the live screen behind her of a map, “To slow our advance, President Snow is building a minefield of traps and lethal devices called ‘pods’. The sadistic inventions of gamemakers meant to make sport of our deaths.

“If our armies make it past peacekeepers and other defenses, we’ll converge in the center of the city at Snow’s mansion, where we won’t just unlock his gates, but unshackle all of Panem.” The crowd cheers again, “If we die, let it be for a cause and not a spectacle. If we succeed, let it be for all of panem, and let it be forever.

“Yes, you’ve already made history. But the future--our future--starts tomorrow at dawn, when we march together into the Capitol.”

The cheering resumes, and you give a quick glance to Katniss and Gale, curious to see how they’re taking all of this. Gale came into District Two a little after you had left--he was on a hovercraft full of volunteers--and Katniss came over this morning as a stowaway on another volunteer hovercraft.

She’s been insisting to help this entire time, not wanting to sit back. However, she’s going to be in for a nasty surprise when she realizes that she’s the top priority. Her squad is going to do anything to keep her safe--which is exactly why you’ve decided not to join the star squad. 

You’ve already had the misfortune of being in on protecting her once, and that was enough for you. You might not have known every single detail, but the intentions were pretty clear. You’re just surprised that it took so long for Katniss to realize that she was the priority.

Also, the problem with the star squad is that they’re not front lines. Katniss can’t be killed, otherwise the revolution dies or whatever. So, Boggs told you that they’re going to give the volunteers a head start, and then they’ll follow behind. No matter what happens, the squad will still have to be careful of pods and whatnot, but most of them will be taken out by the volunteers by the time the squad leaves the base.

In other words--they’re not going to get any action. Katniss is still going to be filmed, but it’s practically useless in your mind. Her setting off pods or standing patriotically in front of things isn’t going to do much. She’s not leading anyone, she’s following behind people.

Which is a whole other reason why you’re up front: you’re not a follower, you’re a leader.

As Paylor gets back to her speech, giving more information, you grab a hold of Finnick’s arm, and start to pull him out of the crowd. Trying to navigate through is hard at first, until the volunteers see the look on your face, or recognize who you are. After that, a path just wide enough for you and Finnick to fit through, forms.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here, we were already briefed.” you say, and the second you’re out of the crowd, you let Finnick go.

Bouncing on your toes, you twirl around a bit, “Tomorrow, huh? Too bad it can’t be today.”

“We’ll probably be introduced to our squad at least.” Finnick says, “You know where to go?”

“What kind of moronic question is that?” you ask, heading to the building that Lyme said would be the meet up spot for you guys, “Of course I know.”

Lyme and Boggs had approached both you and Finnick. Either you could join Katniss’ star squad, protect her, befriend her, trust her--whatever. You guys would have a chance of being on television, and maybe even share some glory of ‘being brave and marching to the Capitol’. In your opinion, it looks like Coin just wants to put two of her best faces together to make you look like a team.

Especially after what you said to the people inside of the tunnel, you basically discredited Katniss in the worst way possible. By saying that she can’t relate to them, because she doesn’t get it. You said what you said, you weren’t lying to their faces. If Coin wants to think that, then she can because she’s psychotic anyway.

Anyway, Lyme said that you could go to the front lines. Like you said, Coin doesn’t control you, because you aren’t the one leading the masses--Katniss is. If you want to go ahead and clear out streets for the medical brigades, then you can go nuts with it. You’ll get your own personalized squad that Lyme thinks will get along with you, and then you’re free to go tomorrow.

You’ll have your own pod-tracker, a map to follow, food and water, weapons, etc. But this just means that you’re going to be in danger with every step you take. The pod-tracker, which is actually called the Holo, will be as updated as can be, tomorrow. However, if any new pods appear, you won’t really know until it’s too late.

You received all of this news pretty well. You’re used to being in places you’re not welcome at. You’re pretty agile, you can fight well, you’re not too bad when it comes to leading a group. And if you get killed on the way, what a noble way to go out.

As for Finnick, you could just tell that this isn’t what he thought it was going to be. You don’t know what he expected exactly, but it wasn’t a whole ton of danger all wrapped up in one big city. Seeing the Capitol as dangerous is a comedy. To you two, it’s been sparkle and shimmer for as long as you can remember.

Combining the pretty idea of it, and the idea that the gamemakers have not held back with what will go on with traps--isn’t a fun thought. Especially not for you, since you’re the one who’s seen it as glamour the entire time. Finnick… you’re not too sure. He definitely doesn’t have good memories either, but he also got his shitload of secrets from there, so you’re not entirely sure.

You know that he’s pro-rebellion though. That’s obvious by now.

Back to what you were saying, Boggs and Lyme both offered sides to it. Follow Katniss around and not be in direct danger all the time, or have your own squad and be face-to-face with danger. She liked to describe it as ‘death breathing down your neck’.

You already promised a lot of people that you wouldn’t be taking the cowards way out. And like you’ve said already; you don’t want to be in the star squad. 

While the entire interaction was happening, it was obvious that Finnick was hoping you would change your mind. Like everything that you’ve done up until now has been one entire joke. 

He’ll realize just how real it’ll all be as soon as tomorrow comes. When the deal with Boggs no longer stands and you have to go with Lyme no matter what.

Actually, you wouldn’t have to go with her. You would be able to just stay in District Two, while all the volunteers do your dirty work. 

“Remember any of the names that she told us?” You ask Finnick, looking at him.

He’s got his thumbs looped into the straps of the bulletproof vest he’s wearing. He thinks for a moment, and then makes a face, “Not really.”

You shrug, “Not a problem, I’ve got a way around seeming rude.”

Finnick laughs, “You care about that?”

“They’re going to be the ones saving our necks, so yeah.” You say, cracking your knuckles, “They’re not a bunch of victors that I can mouth off to. They’re regular people, they won’t understand and will end up taking it personally.”

“Critical thinking.” Finnick mocks.

If you didn’t have all this armor on, you’d spin around and kick his ass. Even then, he might be able to win. When you two were putting the outfits on, he looked like none of the weight fazed him. As for you, your knees nearly buckled.

On top of the armor are the backpacks, and then your fancy weapons, and a hundred other things inside of the backpacks. It makes it all so heavy, and your shoulders had begun to ache after a while.

The only reason why you’re still wearing it—because in no way was it required to be worn—is because you want to get used to the feeling of it all. It’s why you continue to move around quickly, bounce on your toes, spin in circles and all of that. You’re trying to fix your balance.

If Finnick had tried to push you over when you first put all this weight on, you would have stumbled and fell. Now, you’ve begun to get a hang of it all, it’s not nearly as bad as you thought it was.

You two make it to the abandoned building. The upper floor is caved in, the windows are gone and if the ground shakes, concrete debris will come through the cracks. Definitely not a safe place to be at, but the entire district is fucked up like this. It’s not really a huge surprise.

The inside of the building is relatively empty, except for some furniture. Finnick waits by the door while you head inside, stealing two chairs--one in each arm--as you leave the house. If the place collapses, you’d rather be on the outside, not the entire.

Finnick takes his chair from you, and the two of you set up camp outside. You have to shed the backpack before you sit. Then, you unbuckle the bulletproof vest and drop it onto the dirt next to you, leaning back in the chair.

“Have you ever actually gone to war before?” Finnick asks.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” you give him a pretty smile, “Don’t be so negative about it, you’re going to imagine bad things and then get us killed.”

Finnick pauses for a moment, letting what you said sit, and then he moves on, “Are you doing okay?”

You watch his face, looking for mockery. It takes a moment of you squinting and watching the corner of his lips for you to decide. He’s being sincere about it, he actually cares.

You relax, “I’m still mourning, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Finnick is just as relieved as you are, “Are you throwing yourself into this because of her?”

“I’m doing this because I promised those people that I would.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t owe them anything--” Finnick tries.

You squint at him again, but this time it’s a very clear glare. Finnick shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and you resist to kick out the weakest leg that’s barely holding his weight.

“They are my people.” you lean forward, “I might not know their names, but they’re District Two. They are the people that I grew up with. They look up to us, they depend on us victors. Of course I owe them, and you do too.”

Finnick doesn’t bother with saying anything else, and it’s probably for the best. It’s only a few minutes later when you see people approaching. After that, you sit up in your chair, uncrossing your legs as you lean on your knees with your elbows.

“You must be (Y/n) and Finnick.” a girl with blonde, curled hair says, “I’m Hydri.” 

You get to your feet, holding out your hand, “Nice to meet you.

“This is Taurus,” she motions to a tall man with black hair. There’s tattoos snaking up his neck, and they’re peeking out from beneath his sleeves, “And Alioth.”

Alioth is around average height. He gives a small smile and raises his hand as a greeting. His hair is blonde too, and it’s a style that was most definitely taken out of the Capitol’s stylists books. The sides are shaved but they have intricate designs in them.

“Let me guess, you two are from District Two?” you ask, shaking Taurus’ hand, and then Alioths.

“Not me.” Hydri smiles kindly, “Taurus is from District One, though. He was nearly in the games once.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t, you would have wiped the floor with my body.” Taurus says, his voice is pretty deep. 

“No shit.” you laugh, “I always heard about the runner-up from District One, but I never got to see who you were.”

Taurus cracks a smile.

Finnick moves around you to greet them just the same as you did. Then, the conversation shifts to what you’re all really here for--what happens tomorrow.

The entire thing is very friendly, you all go over what you’ll be having inside the backpacks, and the difference between them. Just so that if one of you get hurt or killed, the others will know if the backpack is worth taking or not. While you’re talking, you learn that Alioth will be carrying mostly medical stuff. He’s got food and ammo for himself, but when he opens his backpack and shows it to you guys, you can see exactly what he means.

To have him get killed would be bad. You all have basic medical training, from the games or otherwise. But Alioth’s been studying it for years now since he got out of high school. He originally wanted to sign up for the medical brigade that will be sent out of District Two, but Paylor thought it would be better for him to come with you guys.

Taurus has got the basic prep-games training that you guys get in the academies, so he’ll be a pretty good fighter. Another person you guys wouldn’t want to lose, and yet he tells you all that he doesn’t care if you lean on him. It’s what he’s here for.

As for Hydri, she’s purely for organization. She’s been studying the maps for the last few days, so she’ll be able to keep you from getting lost and from getting off-track. You’ll be able to meet up around Snow’s mansion in the center city. They’ve already marked a building that’s not really used, so it’s the perfect place to go.

After a while, the conversation starts to get a bit dull, and it’s also around the same time that the sun has set. So, you tell them all that you and Finnick are going to grab dinner and head to where you’re staying for the night. Tomorrow, you five will be meeting up in a separate designated spot to receive the Holo, and then hop on a truck to be brought to the city.

Then, you’ll be fighting for your life. Again.

--

You turn the Holo over in your hand, looking at it carefully.

“Don’t break it, we could barely even spare you this one.” the lady tells you.

You look at her, raising your head to be level with her face. Finnick--sensing a showdown--steps in, “Thank you.”

He tries to drag you away, but you keep your stance for a moment, “Lyme personally requested it for me, so you aren’t sparing jack shit. Go fuck yourself.” without missing a beat, you take the Holo from her fingers, mock a smile and say, “I mean, have a nice day.”

You and Finnick leave the table after that, heading over to your group. They’re pulling on the last of their outfits, readjusting straps and buckling up. Taurus is messing around with Alioth slightly while Hydri watches.

They act like they’ve known each other forever, despite the fact that you’re all from varying districts. Taurus is from one, while you and Alioth are from two. Finnick is from four, and Hydri is from District Six. So far, you seem to like them. But they’re obviously a little apprehensive when it comes to you.

You don’t take it personally anymore.

“Got the Holo?” Hydri asks.

You lift it up for her to see, “We’re all good to go.”

“It’s already set up?” Taurus asks.

“Bitch at the booth taught me.”

Taurus snorts, “Let’s go then.”

Hydri leads the way, with Alioth right by her. Taurus hands back with you and Finnick during the walk. For them, it’s not quiet, but for you, it is.

At first, you’re looking at the groups of people getting ready to go to the trucks. And then your eyes wander a little further to where the tents are on the base. From where you are right now, you have a perfect line of sight to where Boggs is standing, talking to some woman, around them stands a few other people.

“How many people do you think have going with Katniss?” you ask.

“Remember when I ran off this morning?” Finnick asks, you nod but don’t look at him, “Went to talk to Boggs. Katniss has got her camera crew from District Thirteen with her, Gale, and the other five.”

“Huh.” you shift your gaze to the trucks, watching some of them take off. Then, it clicks in your head. Five, Katniss, Gale, and the four from the camera crew, “eleven people?”

“Yup. That’ll be a nightmare.” Finnick mutters, “Katniss is probably planning her escape at this exact moment.”

“And it would have been thirteen if we went with them.” you whistle, “There’s no safety in numbers. They’re all going to end up dead.”

Taurus turns his head a little in your direction, you can see the scowl on his face. Yet, he doesn’t ask any questions and just lets what you said slide. He doesn’t look like the confrontational type, but when he does, it’s when he’s pushed the edge. He just has that air about him.

“You really think that?” Finnick asks.

You look at him, “Thirteen people, all with different ambitions and minds of their own. All it would take is for one person to mess up, and the rest are dead. Especially since we’re walking into a minefield.”

Shaking your head, you turn the Holo in your hand, “Katniss will be lucky if she makes it past the first round of pods.”

“You hate her that much, huh?” Taurus finally pitches in, but he doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t hate her, and I don’t loathe her either. She should’ve stayed in District Thirteen, but it’s too late for that now.” you glance behind you to where Boggs is, one final time before they’re finally out of sight.

Boggs seems to be staring at you too, and when he realizes you’re looking back, he raises his hand. You stutter to do the same--mostly because you’re surprised at the action--but you do it, nonetheless. After, a building blocks the view, and you’re forced to go back to focusing on the trucks.

Hydri leads you right to an armoured truck. She knocks on the door once or twice, and then steps back as she waits for them to swing open. It takes a moment, but they do. On the inside, there’s already a couple of people sitting inside on the right. The guy who answered, takes a seat to the right again.

Hydri moves aside, a bright smile on her face as she motions for you guys to go inside. Alioth doesn’t hesitate, with one hand grabbing the bar to the left, and him taking one big step to get himself up. Then, he moves right on back. When Taurus gets up there, he doesn’t struggle with the step as much as Alioth had.

Finnick goes in before you, but he doesn’t sit down right away, instead offering his hand. You grab the bar with your left hand, and his hand with your right. Working together, he pulls you into the truck with no problem. Then, he offers the same courtesy to Hydri, but makes sure she doesn’t get the seat right next to you.

“Thanks.” you mutter, closing your eyes as you lean your head back.

“Anytime.”

Alioth must’ve leaned forward to talk to the driver through the window or something, because the truck gets moving after that. The ride is relatively bumpy at the start, since the trucks had been parked in gravel, but it smoothes out once you’re on the cement.

“Are we getting dropped off in the same spot?” Hydri asks.

“No, we’re earlier than you guys are. Trying to spread out and all.”

“That’s what I thought. At least Paylor knows what she’s doing.” Hydri sighs.

“Did you hear about Lyme?” Taurus asks.

“She’s fine.” Hydri says, “(Y/n) saw her this morning, it was just a scratch. Lyme will be back on her feet, and she might even join us in the center circle.”

“If we make it that far.”

Taurus sighs too, and the conversation between the two groups ends right there.

A while later, there’s some rustling around, making you open your eyes to see what’s going on exactly. The group across from you is getting their backpacks and weapons ready.

They’re talking amongst themselves, mostly about where the nearest pod is going to be the moment they stop off. It’s too bad that they won’t be able to locate where exactly, all they know is that it exists somewhere.

The truck comes to a slow stop, Hydri helps the other girl open the door, and she holds it open so it’s easier for the second group to leave. The other girl says a thank you, and then the doors are shut again.

Taurus and Hydri move to the other bench to make it more comfortable between you five. And Hydri just opens her mouth to say something, when there’s an explosion. For a moment, you think it’s okay, until the truck teeters, and then tips. Unfortunately, it’s in yours, Finnick’s and Alioth’s direction.

There’s not much you can do.

Butterflies swarm in your stomach. A scream rises to your throat. You reach out to grab something--anything.

Your fingers just barely latch onto the edge of the bench, but you hang onto it.

Your back slams against the truck painfully, but your head is cushioned. While you’re staring at what used to be the wall, which is now the ceiling, something slams into the metal next to you.

You look over to your right, trying to see who it is. Finnick is in your way though, and he’s already getting to his elbows, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” you tell him, sitting up and scooting back. Finnick had cushioned your head with his arm--you’re not sure if that was on purpose or if he was flailing just like you were.

Hydri is on her hands and knees next to Finnick, it just means she went flying towards you guys. At least she’s breathing and awake. Taurus is in the dip of the floor, sitting because he can’t stand. And with a look to Alioth, he gives a thumbs up to you.

“Get the doors open.” you tell Taurus, unbuckling the backpack from your body, and then you lean down and grab the Holo.

You turn it on, squinting at it through blurry vision. You blink a couple of times, watching as the device comes to life, and the orange dots take over the blue landscape. The nearest pod is about a hundred feet away--so they couldn’t have set off that one.

The doors slam open, and Taurus reaches for your backpack. He carefully drops it on the outside, eyes glued to the flames that are engulfing a building.

“New pod.” You say, “They ran into one of the new ones.”

You get up with the help of Taurus, not waiting for anyone else. After you slide out, you land on your feet harshly. Another look to the Holo shows an orange dot where the fire is.

“Figures.” you say, picking up the backpack and slinging it over your shoulder.

“(Y/n)--stop!” Finnick’s voice is hard, “What if there’s another?”

You turn around for a moment, “Did you not see what just happened? What if--”

There’s a blast of heat, and then the sound follows. You make a face, but don’t cover your ears as you look to where you were heading. 

A second pod has been set off, and one of the people that were inside of the truck, now struggles to put the fire out. They flail, dancing around like they don’t know what they’re doing. Then, they shed the backpack, and the jacket--which are both charcoal black now--until they eventually sink to their knees, since the flamethrower is still targeting them, following their every move.

You open your mouth as if words will form, but all you feel is your hot breath on your lips as you breathe out.

“Are there any survivors?” Alioth asks, rocks crunching beneath his feet.

“They’re all dead.” Taurus says, “We should check on the drivers--”

“Alive!” Hydri calls, which makes you all turn, “But the driver’s got a head wound from the airbag.

Alioth doesn’t care, he goes ahead and checks them out anyway. You go from staring at the fire to looking at the path you took to get here. It would be a long walk back, and even then there’s no guarantee that Boggs will take you back. Or if you’ll make it in time.

“What are you thinking?” Finnick asks.

You reach up with your right hand, grabbing the left backpack strap as you tilt your head for a moment, “That we better be careful where we step from now on.”

--

Those two explosions that the second group had set off, might have been the first to happen, but they weren’t the last. It was just the beginning of the chain, that probably won’t end until the last volunteer travels through the Capitol.

The gamemakers were smart with their placement--you just have to admit it. They chose the very outskirts of the city, knowing full well that there would be a ton of volunteers that wouldn’t suspect a goddamn thing. You all were expecting the pods to be further into the city, not lining the outering of it.

It’s clear why they did it though, when those first pods went off, it was an indicator that you guys were now coming into the city. It was a way for all those peacekeepers to gear up and find a place to hide until a group of volunteers came through the streets. It would also let Snow know that he should probably be pulling back his citizens a little more forcefully, now.

And not only all of that, but the fact that they’d also know that you were all going in from different directions. Different starting points to offer different advantages. Of course, it also has its disadvantages. You’re having to set off the first pods, rather than walking through a street that’s completely clear already.

The gamemakers don’t care enough to set up the pods again, they’ve got worse things to worry about. Like predicting when you’ll all make it there, and trying to spot the places you hide during the night. For them, it’s going to be a fun game of paranoia that won’t stop until you’re right in their face.

They won’t have a clue either. Not after what Paylor said earlier, with different ways to hide yourself in a crowd. You might not be allowed to antagonize the Capitol citizens, but you’re definitely allowed to raid their wardrobes. Especially the ones that have houses that are already trashed.

If you dress like the citizens, do some crazy fucking makeup to alter your face, and figure out the accent and walk, you’re practically golden. There’s no way that they’ll really be able to tell it's you. If they end up asking for ID, all you have to do is make up some lame excuse about leaving the house in a hurry.

More or less, problem solved.

Until then, you’re all traveling through the streets, just trying not to get caught in the middle of a trap.

“Pod?” Taurus asks, looking back at you.

You hold the Holo up, staring down at the blue for a moment. The next orange dot seems to be miles away, “Not from what I can tell. Just go carefully.”

Taurus goes first, making you guys wait a couple of seconds before following him. In case there is a trap, there will be a few feet between you guys and him, allowing time for escape. It was his idea, it’s not like any of you forced it on him.

“Take a right.” Hydri says, “These alleys are confusing, but it’s our better shot. The main streets are a minefield, aren’t they (Y/n)?”

You shake your head, holding up the Holo for her to see, “Not really, the nearest one might be on the street but--”

“Stop!” Finnick yells to Taurus.

Finnick pushes his way up to you and Hydri, basically pressed against your back as he leans forward to point out the pods, “Right there, see? It’s so faint that we can’t see it.”

“The faint ones are supposed to be the ones that have already been triggered.” you tell Finnick, “It’s what that lady told me.”

“But we’re the first ones through here.” Alioth says, “That can’t be possible.”

While you all stand and stare, thinking up a million possibilities as to why this is happening, your eyes are searching the alleyway for a trigger. If Finnick is right about it being a pod, it’s here, in this little maze of backstreets. You all could be beneath it, on top of it, around the corner from it…

The brick wall of the alley is relatively clean, no one has been through here in awhile. The trash cans that are tucked away have genuinely begun to collect dust. If you were to swipe your finger on top of one of the lids, then you’ll get a thick layer of it on your finger.

This part of the city has long since been deserted. Not only because it was the first to be evacuated, but even worse than that. The gamemakers must have made them leave weeks before the day they thought you’d all be coming through here.

So, there’s definitely something in here.

“How close is the nearest one?” Taurus asks, he hasn’t moved from where he stopped, and that’s probably a good thing.

You move Finnick out of the way with one hand as you look behind you guys, eyes squinted as you search the walls for anything out of place. It has to be subtle, because that’s the way the gamemakers have it in the Holo. They must have figured out a way to hack into them or something.

“What is it?” Finnick asks.

You shush him, eyes sweeping the wall behind him. Brick after brick until--

“Cameras.” You say, pointing at it, “That means peacekeepers, guys.” you turn back to Hydri, “Give me the nearest building that should be safe to hide in.”

“Uh--” Hydri shakes her head for a moment, flipping open the map. She’s obviously trying not to freak out as she runs a finger over the alleyway and into the street, “--yeah, okay. I’ll lead.”

She zips past you, Finnick and Alioth and heads straight for Taurus, showing him the way. The two of them don’t hesitate with walking, which means that you guys shouldn’t either. However, you can’t help but reach into a spare pocket, holding out a throwing knife that Beetee had made for you.

“Fuckers.” you throw.

It lands straight into the glass lens. It won’t be able to watch you now, but that means nothing. The peacekeepers know you guys are here, and that’s all that matters. 

Finnick turns to check where you are, but you’ve already caught up to him and Alioth.

“Quick thinking.” Finnick says.

“I could say the same about you.” 

Hydri brings you guys around a series of corners. It reminds you of the streets of District Two for a moment by how confusing it is the first time you go through. But then you realize there’s a whole pattern to it. That doesn’t mean you had expected where Hydri would bring you guys.

A metal door. Taurus automatically thinks it’s locked, so he goes to kick it in, but Hydri shakes her head and presses a finger to her lips, “Listen.” she whispers.

The five of you all take a moment to try and listen, watching as Hydri pulls out a lockpick, sticking it straight into the lock and beginning to work her magic. It takes a moment of listening to hear it, but then the sound gets considerably louder.

It’s a truck. It’s a truck full of peacekeepers, and they’re not actually coming on foot. There’s going to be a lot more of them than you originally anticipated.

The others must be thinking the same as you because Taurus’ face drops, Finnick pales a little and Alioth opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. It takes another second before Hydri has popped the door open, and she heads in first, crouched down.

Taurus waits at the door, Finnick shoves you in next, and you go in crouched. Alioth follows, then Finnick, then Taurus--who shuts the door quietly and then locks it again. Hydri is still crouched by the door, waiting for you and Taurus to go up first to evaluate.

None of you actually know what the hell this building is, and by the sound of marching, you’re not going to have much time to figure it out. You and Taurus stop by the same place beneath the counter, and you place your knee against the ground as you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is bad. This is so bad.

You’ve encountered plenty of pods, but those have been relatively easy to bypass. They’re not as dangerous as a squad of peacekeepers are. You set off a pod, the pod is completely done. But peacekeepers? You have to kill each one individually or squeeze your way out.

Escaping them is going to be damn near impossible with five people, especially with a truck full of peacekeepers and god knows if there’s cameras inside of here too.

“Hey,” Finnick says, coming over, “Breathe, it’s going to be fine.”

Right after, there’s a slam on the door behind you guys, and the voices of peacekeepers just outside the building. You look over at Finnick, “Does this look fine to you?”

“I don’t know the layout of the houses, only the streets.” Hydri whispers.

You take a deep breath and another moment of complete silence, before you begin to waddle your way around Taurus. When he goes to stop you, you forcefully push him back, and look at the others.

“Wait.”

You go all the way around the counters, peeking your head around the corner to see the peacekeepers and the actual layout of the building you’re inside. It takes a moment for you to see, and then realize that you’re inside a whole apartment building. There’s a staircase nearby, you guys can go up that as far as it goes…

“Hydri, are there fire escapes?” you ask, looking back.

She nods quickly, and so you motion for them to follow. The pounding on the back door has not only gotten louder, but they’ve begun to cave the metal in from the force they’re using. As for out front--you have no clue what’s going on there.

You lead them all to the staircase, Taurus insists on taking up the back since he can’t have the front. You go up one floor, and then a second, then a third, and then a fourth. The entire way, you’re jiggling door knobs, trying to find one that’s unlocked. If you can run up the fire escape, that would be much easier.

On the fifth floor, you find one single door unlocked, and without a care as to why, you rush everyone inside. It’s only when you go to see for yourself, you freeze where you stand.

“We’re not here to hurt you.” Finnick starts first.

The Capitol citizens are sitting on their couch, enjoying their tea. The woman just barely has the cup in her hold, and her hand is shaking.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, do you recognize the name?” 

“Yes.” The man says, standing from where he sits, “What are you doing in my house--”

You ignore him, “You shouldn’t be here. You should have gone with everyone else when you evacuated, because the entire city is full of traps.”

As you make your way around the windows, you find the one with a fire escape. It’s above the alleyway, but it’ll have to work. The door you came in downstairs just blew. You pop it open, letting Hydri and Alioth go out first.

“We mean no harm.” you tell them, “We’re just trying to get away. When the peacekeepers come up here, urge them to get you out of here.”

“Why should we?” he demands.

You’re reaching forward, grabbing Finnick’s sleeve as you make him go before you.

“Because if you even step foot into the streets, you’ll die.” you hand the Holo off to Finnick.

“Go.” Taurus tells you, “I’ll go out last.”

The others are already going up the metal staircase, you can hear their rapid feet. The only person that hasn’t started moving yet is Finnick.

“Please.” you look at the woman, “I’m telling you it’s not safe here, not even for us.”

You go through the window, and just as Taurus comes over, you can hear the voices and the dozen pairs of footsteps too. Taurus gives one look to the door, then back to the window. You reach your hand out like you’re going to pull him through, but he slams the window shut instead.

As he’s reaching for the curtains, the automatic is in his hands. He tilts his head at you, like he’s telling you to run while you can. Then, the fabric covers the window, and you can hear the first slam into the door.

“Go.” you tell Finnick, pushing him, “I said go!”

Finnick gets moving after that, flying up the staircase faster than you can. He takes them two at a time, and at every landing, he looks back to make sure you’re following. Finnick just barely gets to the ladder when you hear the first bullet leave the gun, and following are the screams.

He’s just barely up far enough when you begin going. At the top waiting is Alioth and Hydri, reaching out to yank Finnick up the last couple of rungs. When you get up there, Finnick takes you all by himself.

At the top of the roof, you take a moment to catch your breath.

“Where’s Taurus?” Hydri asks, looking between you and Finnick.

“Dead.” you tell her, moving along the top of the roof to find a way out. The gap between roof to roof is narrow, you could take this jump in your sleep, “He couldn’t get through the window in time, so he stayed back to help us, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”

You pull yourself on top of the safety wall on the roof, getting to your feet. You shed the backpack, curse the bulletproof vest for getting in the way, and then you throw. The backpack clears the wall without a problem, and you look back at the others.

“We have to keep moving.” you insist.

You back up as much as you can afford, preparing for the jump.

“(Y/n)--!” Finnick yells.

You throw yourself forward in a run, taking the leap. The second roof is a little lower, which is perfect, you land onto the safety wall below, and tumble for a moment. When you catch yourself, you look right back at the others, who are hanging over to make sure you’re okay.

“It’s not a bad jump. Toss me the Holo.” you hold out your hands.

Finnick tosses it to you, and then he throws his backpack next to yours. He mirrors the way you had gotten onto the wall, before hopping over too. Then Hydri, and then Alioth. Just as you all get your shit back together, there’s more peacekeepers coming.

The four of you keep moving, onto the next roof. Then, you force them all to hide against the wall as you take a look at the Holo. The peacekeepers are nearby, they’re an entire rooftop over, and they have no clue what direction you guys actually moved in.

The Holo offers little help, from what you can see, there’s no faint orange dots. But the nearest solid orange one is literally in the street below. There’s no way you’d want to go down there, and from what Hydri said, the alleyway ended with that metal door. If you get down right now, then you’d have to trigger the trap when you step on it.

Unless you’d rather take a chance.

You shed the backpack, digging through the pockets until you pull out a metal ball. Taurus was using these to set off the traps that required weight and sight of something moving. All you have to do is throw this in the street below to set it off. The peacekeepers that are standing on the street will have to hide.

But it’ll take them a moment to realize what’s going on.

“What are you thinking?” Alioth asks.

“Just watch.” you move past all of them, taking one glance at the neighboring rooftops to see that there’s no one there.

You check the Holo again just to be sure, and then you get up, hurling the ball right where the pod should be. For a second, nothing happens.

Then the ground opens up, and starts to crumble.

“Oh shit.” you say, “Nearest rooftop--now!”

The rumbling of the ground gets louder, and you can hear the yells of the peacekeepers. Finnick and Alioth are the first to the rooftop away from the street--the far back one. Alioth sheds all his gear, Finnick gets down to grab his foot, and then he boots Alioth up.

Alioth squirms for a moment, but he gets up, leaning over for his shit. Finnick tosses them up, and Alioth takes it, and throws it behind him, completely disregarding it. And considering you all are on a time limit, it matters a ton.

Next is Hydri, but she insists her stuff goes up first, since everything inside is important. Anyone can read a map, but you all navigating the city without it will be hell. 

You and Finnick stare at each other for a moment, and since you already know what he’s going to say, you hand the Holo off, then the backpack, and Alioth pulls you up with Hydri barely helping. The second that you’re on the higher roof, you’ve thrown yourself over the side.

The building Finnick’s on is tilting towards the gaping hole in the street, getting further and further away from you guys.

Pain strikes your heart, and you panic a bit when Finnick tries to take off the backpack.

“Jump!” you yell to him, “I’ve got you!”

Finnick listens to you, leaving the backpack and all on as he backs up a bit, gets a running start and bolts for the wall. You lean down as far as you can without losing your balance.

Finnick jumps, and with the amount of distance between the two buildings--you’re sure he won’t make it.

Then, his hand hits yours, and you’re reaching down with a second hand to grab his wrist.

Together, you and Alioth pull Finnick up the wall and into the roof with you guys. Once he’s inside, Finnick stumbles and falls onto his back, breathing heavy. You crouch down next to him, placing your hand on his chest.

“You’re okay?”

Finnick takes a breath in, “You were afraid.”

You crack a smile, “Of course I was.”

Offering your hand to him, he takes it. You pull him onto his feet with barely any struggle, patting his back as you move past him to gather your things again. You buckle the backpack, back in place, and take the Holo from Hydri.

“We should be good for a while.” you look up to Hydri.

“Ladder.” Alioth tells you guys, kicking off a hatch, “We should keep moving.”

“Ready to go, Finnick?” you ask.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Finnick says, giving you a smile.

--

You stare at the bedroom, “This feels weird to do.”

“You’re the one that said you wanted to have an apartment in the Capitol.”

You make a face at Finnick, tilting your head, “There’s a difference between getting a brand new apartment and sleeping in someone else’s bed.”

“Then go sleep in the living room.” Finnick heads into the bedroom, tossing his backpack onto a chair.

“How about you go sleep in a different room.” you jut your thumb towards the door, “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Finnick gives you a cheeky grin as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his bulletproof vest, “Also there are no other rooms besides the living room.”

You sigh, grabbing the door knob, “Goodnight, Finnick.”

“You’re seriously going out there?” Finnick asks, throwing the vest onto the armchair with his backpack, “You’d rather sleep on a couch than a bed?”

“I’d rather sleep alone.” you clarify, “But I’m not getting that either way.”

Finnick pats the bed next to him, “We can make a pillow wall.”

“I’d rather deal with the neck pain.”

“Don’t be a wuss.” Finnick says.

He knew that would make you hesitate. 

And you can tell by the smile creeping onto his face more and more as he pats the bed again, “Come on.” he sings.

You squint, “Why are you so eager?”

“Don’t wanna sleep alone.” Finnick is now removing his shoes, “Haven’t really slept alone in years.”

You take in a deep breath, “That’s not what I expected to hear, and it was the wrong thing to say on your part, too. Going to the living room.”

“You can at least sleep on the floor.”

“The likeness of you staring at me all night is too high.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself.” Finnick scoffs, hurling a shoe at you.

You catch it without a problem, “That’s all I am, sweetheart.”

Finnick’s eyebrows skyrocket, “Sweetheart?”

“God--fuck you.” you turn around, his shoe in hand as you move to the living room.

Finnick is laughing, and he stumbles to catch his footing as he attempts to catch up with you, “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“Or you could sleep in the living room.”

“Which would still be on the floor.” Finnick says.

You pause in the hallway, watching Alioth and Hydri from it. The two of them are getting along well, Hydri is pretty upset over losing Taurus though. Unfortunately, you didn’t know him very well, therefore can’t mourn for him the same way they can. It was a noble thing he did.

Yet he also took all his weapon supplies down with him when he did it, which is a huge loss. He had--basically--an infinite number of those heavy, metal balls. As for you guys, it’s a limited number, and each one lost brings five pounds out of the backpack. You all discovered that after using so many after Taurus was gone.

Finnick’s not wrong about the living room either, there’s only two couches. And the only thing that looks remotely comfortable after that is the fur rug that’s also kinda matted because the people that lived here apparently didn’t know how to take care of it.

“I’ll take the floor.” You tell Finnick, heading back into the room. You drop everything off by the door.

“No, I’ll take the floor.”

You ignore him, unbuckling the vest as fast as possible before tossing it onto the backpack, and then you turn on Finnick, holding your fists up. 

Finnick laughs, but mirrors your stance, “Bring it on, sister.”

“Oh, right.” you laugh with him, before aiming straight for his gut.

Finnick goes to grab you, but you’re too quick for him, bouncing in your boots as you take a jab at his face. It’s not anything too rough, more of a warning for him to knock off his own shenanigans.

Finnick somehow manages to get a hold of you at some point, twisting your arm and giving you a look, “The floor is mine.”

“Just a minute ago you were arguing for the bed.” you grab onto his wrist to keep him from twisting any further.

“Then I’ll take the bed,” he says.

“I’m fine with that!” you say, swinging your leg up for his crotch.

Finnick doesn’t flinch, staring you right in the eyes. And especially since you didn’t actually fall through with it, it’s extra awkward.

“Get me a pillow and a blanket.” you tell him.

“But you’re sleeping on the bed.” Finnick says.

“Then I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, geez.” you push him away, since his grasp has considerably weakened.

You start pulling off your shoes, tossing them to your backpack. Once they’re off, you remove the socks too so that your feet can finally breathe, after hours of being walked on and the amount of sweat that they’ve had to endure. When you go over to the bed, you take a seat on it, and then throw yourself back.

The mattress is obviously expensive, you can tell by the way you sink into it. You sigh, closing your eyes.

“Better than your mattress at home?” Finnick jokes.

“Unfortunately.” you say.

“I’m gonna sleep on the bed.” he tells you.

“Whatever, I don’t care anymore.” you say, “I’m actually heading to bed, though. So you can tell Hydri and Alioth that we’re done for the night and we’ll recollect in the morning.”

Finnick smiles, “Sure thing.”

Finnick leaves the room, and you take the time to go ahead and get back onto the bed. You carefully place the necklace onto the nightstand, being sure that it won’t fall off and onto the floor. Then, you get comfortable on the bed.

You all really should be keeping your shoes on and all of that, but it’s not realistic. You’re not going to be able to fall asleep with it on, plus it’ll be like a hundred degrees with that fucking bulletproof vest on.

Finnick comes into the room right as you’re getting comfortable. He tosses a water bottle at you, and you drink half of it before deciding to lay down officially.

“I feel kinda shitty that we’re leaving them out there.” Finnick says, getting into the bed, “I mean, the two victors taking the bed?”

“They told me that I could have it.”

“Whatever.” Finnick laughs, “Hydri said that there was a bedroom back here, and that was it.”

Finnick goes to pull the blanket up, but you kick him with your foot, “Go sleep in the bathtub.”

He rolls his eyes, “Goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Touch me even once, and I swear to god you’re going to wake up with a knife to your throat.”

“That’s not very safe.”

“Neither is touching me.”

[resident-of-edgy-evil]

Well, this was unexpected - Chapter 1

(Story strays from the primary story line of Resident Evil 2 as a given “what if” scenario but follows the same general base plot of the outbreak in the game.) - “what if you and Leon booked it as fast as you could from the front gate of the police station to the closest looking safe haven- a primary school?”

This is only the first chapter. I wish it had been longer, but I’m on a bit of a time crunch at the moment. I hope you like it and give some feedback. (I’ll probably be making a lot of changes) Thanks!

———————————————

You two weren’t entirely sure where you were going or what it was that you were doing. The outbreak spread to every nook and cranny of the city, showing no mercy to any man, woman, or child. The virus didn’t care whose life it took and the terror was all the same for each citizen to bear. There was nowhere in sight to turn. Every corner that you and Leon took was overrun by bloodied corpses lying in wait for their next meal. However, you weren’t willing to become the main course, and you certainly weren’t going to allow your best friend to attend their dinner party either.

“We’re running low on ammo,” he chimed in, breaking you out of your hyper focused state. “We have to find somewhere to stop and recuperate before we get ourselves killed.”

Your panic-hidden countenance never faded as you saw him barely huff, pushing himself to run faster than before. He kept his composure the best he could in a way that would fool anyone else into believing he was unaffected by the cities’ destruction. It was fairly unsurprising that his body could handle this after his training.

But you were no fool, you’ve known Leon since you two were kids, and it would make you a pathetic friend if you hadn’t noticed the slight glint of fear in his eyes that the academy could never prepare him for. You were worried about him even though he was more than capable of taking care of himself. If only there was the guarantee of making it.

“(Y/n), there’s an unoccupied gate over there. If we can make it to the other side then we might be able to catch our breath and search for more weapons.”

You’d be lying if you said that climbing over a gate in a zombie infested area was appealing, but you didn’t have any better ideas. Against your better judgment, you nod to Leon in silent confirmation. You weren’t really in the mood to speak even though communication was important during a time like this. This was a matter of teamwork, not solely protecting him, although it would’ve been preferable. He seemed to understand what you couldn’t. If you work together, you’ll survive together. If you work alone, neither of you are walking out of the city alive. It’s just a personal difficulty to listen to that voice of common sense.

You struggled to lead the way, dodging any lingering hands while paying the most mind to the rookie officer on your tail. It was important that you get him out of the city. Keeping track of Leon was your main priority, your sanity being the second. Very little else made any difference to you. Again, trying to work alone.

Leon sped up, reaching the gate before you. He searched your eyes for any sort of sign of pain or worry. He was dealing with this situation fairly well with only a few occurrences of true fear whenever you’d get snagged by the monsters outside the police station, but he couldn’t detect so much as a single trace of fear.

“When did you become so stoic?” He begins to choke on his own coughs through his breathlessness, unbelieving of your behavior.

You hadn’t really noticed a change in your own persona, but he certainly had. The bond you shared was intimate and your mood shifts often matched his own. He was worried that you were at risk of snapping at any given moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You offered the most genuine half smile you could muster, but you knew that he wouldn’t believe it either.

His own smile didn’t reach his eyes as he decided not to press you any further. You’ve never been in a situation like this before and it was unfair of him to assume how you’d react. You were much stronger than you appeared, more so than he could have ever anticipated.

Shaking his head a bit, he shrugged. It was best to question it once you weren’t completely surrounded.

“Here, I’ll give you a leg up over the gate.” He knelt down and placed his two cupped hands over his knee for you to use as leverage.

Your face twisted as you shot a sour look at Leon. This, you thought, was an awful idea.

The gate wasn’t any higher than 10 feet or so, including the sharp decorative spears protruding from the top, making you hesitant as being impaled would’ve been the last thing that you had imagined being the cause of your death tonight. Imagine making it this far only to have your grave say “almost survived the zombie apocalypse only to fall onto a gate.” The eulogy would be great, but the turnout wouldn’t be so grand.

Shaking your head from the thought, you redirected your thoughts to the task at hand. In between the metal spears was a thin bar that looked sturdy enough to climb. It was only a matter of keeping steady as to not get snagged or trip. Again, potentially embarrass and fatal.

“Leon, I don’t know about this, there has to be another-“ he cut you off by pulling you closer to his crouched form.

“Less talk, we’re wasting time. I can hold my own. Go find some bolt cutters or something, I don’t know. There’s nothing on the other side of the gate as far as I know, you’ll be safe.”

You were apprehensive to leave him on his own, but he was right. He knew how to fight his way out of here if he really wanted to. He could make it out of Raccoon, alone, without help, leaving you behind. The more time you took weighing your options was less time he had to fend off the new wave of zombies that were attracted by the commotion.

“Alright,” He hoisted you over his shoulder, his upper body strength catching you off guard. You didn’t recall him being this strong while growing up. Oh, how the times change...in more ways than you’d wished to count.

With the help of Leon, you make it onto the second tallest bar, praying that your balance didn’t give out. Scaling the gate, you make it to the top bar before bracing yourself for impact, in your best efforts to stray from jarring your joints. Safely making it over, you toss him your “borrowed” beretta through the empty spaces of the gate.

“At least take this, you’ll need it more than I will. I still have my pistol and knife so I’ll still have protection over here if something happens.”

He tilts his head, smiling softly at the gesture. You had been taking extra precautions during this whole ordeal to keep him safe. It wasn’t entirely unlike you to go out on your own and stray from the path, but now you were carrying their combined weight and weren’t focused enough to do something like this. Leon could only pray for you at this point.

“I’ll promise to stay safe if you do, too.”

Neither of you said anything as your eyes met each other’s. Tensions rose before you dipped your head in compliance and sprinted across the yard, rendering your sight of Leon, useless.

You knew that you had to find something quickly. You scanned the small expanse of lawn that had been meticulously cut, finding the whole side mission to be tiresome. It was proving to be a difficult task, y'know, looking for something- anything that could aid you by breaking the chains. It was even harder to will yourself not to back peddle and gaze at the sight of your struggling best friend.

"Christ, you're wasting time." you mumbled to yourself. “If he was here, he’s chide me for my time lack management skills.”

Your heart sped up the moment you began to hear gunsots, leading you to believe that things were getting bad out there if Leon was growing desperate enough to begin using bullets. To the left of what you could only guess was a school, stood a wooden shed out of the corner of your eye, making you hope beyond all hope that there would be something in there that could him through that stupid gate. What you had originally failed to notice while pulling the rusted door handles of the small structure that there was another padlock adorning a green clover shaped insignia around the keyhole. It was the same symbol you had stumbled upon in the police station.

Just your luck.

You pulled harder praying that the hinges of the wooden door would give in if you used all of your might. If only you still had that key...

"God, dammit, I don't having the fucking time for this." You ground your teeth and groaned.

Time was passing quickly and if you didn’t hurry, the monsters on the other side of the gate would kill Leon.

‘I hate this entire damn city.’

A loud crash came from a window on your right. Someone or, more likely, something was inside and you weren't quite ready to find out what it was. Upon closer inspection, the room was seemingly clear of any signs of life... or death, much to your surprise. It looked mainly untouched, though this only confirmed your previous suspicions. Smaller than average chairs lined the walls under a white board that had been nearly scrawled upon. Aside from the general disorganization of toys, which wasn't unusual for a children's class, the room really was untouched by the disaster outside. A brief moment of relief washed over you at the sight of a normal looking public space free of fallen bodies and pools of blood. Momentarily, it tricked you into believing that there wasn't death beyond that front gate.

You weren't going to let Leon or yourself die in this hellish town. That was one thing you were sure of. It felt like you were in a video game. It was almost like you walked in front of a barrel that, logically, you should be able to climb over, but you had no such luck. You were frustrated with the situation, kicking the short grass as a result. If only Leon could climb over that gate.

The feeling only grew the moment you looked through the next window. The sight made your blood run cold. Streaks of blood painted the tiles that had once been white. This had been the longest day of your life, the most physically drained you had ever been and to top it off, your heart clenched at the sight of a class disarray in a public children’s school. The unimaginable had struck this town and you were determined to not let the efforts of those who had helped you this far, go to waste.

“Leon, I’m coming for you.” You whispered as you rested your head on the glass, a single tear escaping your eye. “Just hang in there.”

[mariinara]

FOR GOD, LIBERTY, AND LOVE. (Sam Drake x Reader) ANGST |PART 1|

A/N: Well, this one-shot is late. BUT HERE IT IS, FINALLY. I hated writing this :,) I feel awful.

Request for: @samdrakeftw (ENJOY!)

Tags: @missdictatorme , @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @hrgnm , @purplezebra68

Prompts: "Don't die on me." + "Don't make this harder than it is."

Warnings: Angst, death.

Word count: 2,416

(Part 2 here!)

"There she is!"

You quickly whipped your head towards the source of the voice and the sounds of multiple, heavy footsteps, startled, "Oh, shit.."

You glanced down at the Shoreline soldier, whom you stabbed to death and, quickly, you ripped a part of his t-shirt away, took his Para .45 gun, and sprung back on your feet, starting to bolt towards a plausible refuge. 

'This was a bad idea..'

You thought to yourself just when bullets of different calibers started to rain behind you, causing you to flinch and duck away as you ran, losing balance a little and stumbling onto your feet but, luckily, your strong desire to survive carried you and you continued your sprint through the ship graveyard. Your feet were sore and the gushing bullet wound through your hand was not helping you. 

As much as you attempted to maintain a tough facade, you felt terrified. There you were, running away from an entire army of soldiers, who seeked you to avenge their fallen comrades. 

It was because of you that so many Shoreline soldiers were taken down, and you reckoned that Nate and Elena took down their own, generous share of them, which was why Rafe was pissed and sending more guns behind you.

But you were on your own.

You'd parted ways with them to cover more ground to find Sam and, after a long argument with Nathan, you were able to bolt away, with only a switch-blade, a revolver, and your will to both save Sam and punch him into oblivion.

And there you were, teasing death with your absolute perseverance, your feet padding strongly on the ground as you rippled through shipwrecks. You were thinking about nothing else but your own survival. 

'You're gonna be okay..'

You assured yourself, heavy breaths escaping your parted, cut lips as you vaulted over a stack of piled wood, barely avoiding the bullets that ostensibly came at you from every direction. 

Your eyes scanned the environment and, when you saw a coming turn, you decided to take it, slipping a bit when you made the sudden shift. But in no time, you were on your feet again.

"Here!" 

You quickly whipped out your gun just when the sniper aimed right at you and took your shot, clean through his forehead. For a second he looked stunned and he fell over, and when you wanted to take a large step forward to take the sniper gun, more men appeared in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes flickered in both directions, back and forth, and it seemed like you were trapped for a good couple of seconds. There was no way through the ship next to you, but there was a small opening that you could squeeze through.

Without wasting another second, you inhaled deeply and squeezed yourself through, breathing heavily and wincing when your wounded hand made contact with the splintered wood and gunshots fired incessantly, putting holes in the ship, but you ran through it, ducking your head away. 

'Just breathe.'

You reminded yourself. God, why were you doing that in the first place? Why did you think, for a second, that this was a good idea? You were mad at Samuel for lying and putting your lives at risk, yet there you were, throwing yourself in the face of danger for the same man who'd broken your heart.

But you couldn't bear to lose him again. 

Not after you'd just gotten him back.

And that was your only drive. The incentive that was so strong that it controlled your body for you. You'd stabbed and dodged and parkoured your way through Avery's bullshit, and sometimes, you'd be so stunned at your own actions that you'd ask yourself: "How the hell did I do that?" 

You had no clue that you were capable of inciting such chaos– to elicit such rage, frustration, and desperation from Nadine and Rafe to the extent that they'd be so threatened so as to send a whole battalion after you.

And as much as that brought you satisfaction, you'd wished that it was all over. You just wanted any sign that Sam was safe and sound, and once you heard guns blazing from a distance and saw that he was there, alive and well and making a beeline from Shoreline, you were instantly back on your feet to retrieve him.

But, oh, how could that ever go according to plan with military men being at every corner?

A loud groan came from you when you jumped on a lower cliff, right below the shipwreck you were running through. 

Ahead of you, a battle cry could be heard just as a soldier rounded a corner to surprise you and swing the back of his shotgun to knock you out but you quickly dodged him and ducked, pulling out your switchblade and plunging it into his jugular. 

He stopped struggling and fell to the floor, allowing you to take over his weapon. After strapping it to your back, you continued your sprint and, you couldn't deny it, you were pretty sick of yourself.

You'd left this career for a reason.

Inflicting harm upon others had become more of a nightmare to you. For days, you wouldn't sleep properly when you'd remember how you so effortlessly slashed someone's neck or riddled their body with bullets.

You loved treasure hunting but everything came with a price and this was one you were no longer willing to pay.

With a loud grunt, you slammed your entire weight against yet another wrecked ship, getting your body through the moldy wood easily. You caught yourself when you nearly fell over and your eyes skimmed your surroundings. 

'There. I can take cover there.'

You quickly jumped behind a pile of excavation boxes and sat down, your back propped against them. You tried to stop shaking and quickly pulled out the cloth you'd ripped from the soldier earlier, tying your hand with the flimsy fabric.

You let out a soft whimper as you applied pressure to your wound, clenching your fist when the cloth was secured around your palm, "Ah, fuck.." You whispered to yourself, resting your head back and trying to catch your breath, swallowing to dampen your dry throat.

"Careful. Lots of hiding places out here."

They were coming closer. And if you didn't get yourself together in the matter of less than a minute, you were going to be a goner. 

'God– What was I thinking!?'

You mentally scolded yourself whilst reaching for your thigh holster for your gun, which you pulled out and checked for ammo. 

'One bullet. Perfect. Might as well put it in my own head.' 

You quickly pushed the magazine back into the handgun and unwrapped your shotgun, adjusted the safety, and clung to the weapon with tight, shaking hands and closed eyes.

"You check over there. I'll stay here to lookout. She can't have gone too far."

"Roger that."

Your eyes snapped open again as the men separated to cover more ground and your guard was up again. You sat in a crouching position so you'd be able to bolt away if you wanted to easily.

You held your breath as you heard footsteps approaching the boxes you were behind. Slow, careful ones, as if the soldier just knew you were there. As if he knew that just the slightest, wrong move from him could trigger a reaction from you that he might not like.

Suddenly, and out of nowhere, gunshots could be heard, and the men's attentions were diverted elsewhere, but you flinched at the flying bullets, ducking your head behind the boxes and holding your head in your hands, not daring to peek lest you lose your head.

You'd had enough. Your lungs were filled with the suffocating humidity and you were trying so hard to keep it together but you were sure you were about to lose your mind. You've been fighting your way through Libertalia on your own for a long while and all the assaults, the attacks, the bullets, the punches, they all left both physical and mental scars in you.

There. Was. A. Reason. You. Quit.

But, for Sam, you were prepared to go through just about anything and you'd often wondered if he'd do the same. If he even felt the same. 

You were such a coward. 

You could handle yourself, hold a gun, shoot people and impale them with ease, but you could never bring yourself to look him in the eyes and tell him what you've wanted to all those years back. 

That you loved him. That you always have and probably always will. He died and left you to wallow in your misery for fifteen years and now that he was back, it was your chance for a redo. 

But, once again, you couldn't do it and you just didn't know what it was about him. His intense, yet warm gaze was probably it. It made you shake with fear. The fear of not being adequate enough for him. You've seen what type of women he hooked up with and you were nothing like them. A voice would tell you that it was probably a good thing. That Sam was actually waiting for someone like you to impact his life. To cause that dramatic shift within him. To make him wonder what life would taste like with you, tucked in his arms.

But another voice told you "Don't. He's not looking for anything." 

And you'd changed your mind. You'd shaken your head with a thin smile and a soft 'nothing..' before turning away from him, leaving him confused yet intrigued. And that was the last time you had any interaction. After that, his lie was exposed, and you didn't know why, but as much as your heart broke because of it, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at him. 

Sure, punching the daylights out of him was a priority, but at that moment, you just wanted to find him and never let him go. 

Startled, you let out a loud scream after being taken into a pair of strong arms. You struggled, feeling the person turn you, saying things that you couldn't quite hear over your low growls of resistance.

"Let me go!" You yelled, trying to push them away. You couldn't see anything except the blur of your own tears. You didn't even know why you were crying.

"Hey!" The person's sharp voice came and something in your brain clicked. That voice. It was so familiar and it slowly brought you out or your trance. You were breathing heavily, your stamina suddenly feeling low, "It's me.. It's just me.." He comforted, cupping your cheeks in his hands and tilting your head up, wanting to look at you.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, studying his deeply concerned expression. You were overjoyed. He was right there, holding you. And it'd dawned on you that the bullet sounds ceased completely. That you could only hear the heavy winds and you and Sam's erratic breathing.

When he realized that you were back to him, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled, making something burst inside of you and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes. The contortions your face suddenly made hurt every deep cut in your skin and you couldn't help but wince before letting out a sob.

Sam knew that reaction was coming and he knew you. He knew that you were relieved to have him right there in front of him. He knew that you came after him alone and as much as that worried him sick, he was sort of glad he had you there. And yet he had no idea what he'd done to deserve that. 

Gratefulness suddenly overcame him and he took you into an embrace as you cried and all you could do was surrender and close your eyes as your face pressed into his chest. One of his hands was holding the back of your head, his fingers deep into your hair. His other arm was around you, and he let out a soft sigh of comfort, just basking in your presence.

"It's just me.." He repeated, his voice barely above a tired whisper, "It's okay.."

Slowly, you started to calm down. Your sobs were no more and you only started to sniff and hiccup lightly and Sam pulled away, only to look at you. Your beautiful face. The face that he so dearly loved. You had the ability to make him feel warm and it was almost embarrassing how many times he'd catch himself staring into your observant, curious, lively eyes. 

And your smile.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to see you give him a smile and one of your coy laughs. You were such a blessing.

But, much like you, he was a coward. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and tell you how you made him feel. He wanted to tell you that he's imagined you jumping into his arms and kissing him on more than one occasion but he just couldn't and he too had no clue as to why he felt so timid around you– it was extremely out of character for him.

"You okay?" He asked you gently while wiping away your tears with his thumbs, staring into your lost eyes.

You nodded with a small hum, feeling yourself unable to form the words just yet, like you were brain-dead. If you'd even opened your mouth, nothing articulate would come out.

"We gotta go, alright?" He spoke gently, tucking stray strands of your hair behind your ears, his hazel eyes warm, assuring safety. Quickly, you nodded. After that, his hands left your cheeks so he could reload his gun, "Stay close." He instructed, jogging ahead already. 

You stared at him as he did, your shoulders sagged in defeat and your eyes still welled up with tears. You wondered just how much you truly loved him. You let out a shaky breath when you realized that it hurt when he wasn't cupping your cheeks anymore or playfully quipping. 

You remembered how hard it was to live for such a long time without him. 

And you knew that, as long as he was next to you, there was nothing you couldn't do. That thought alone pushed you to jog and catch up to him, feeling your stamina get back to you.

_____________

[mxrcayong]

avatar 01.14

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chapter fourteen: trust

“Trust me this once.”

Johnny’s words seemed to bounce around her mind like a broken pinball machine, the ball to enter the scoring zone. Her heart felt like it was pounding – falling deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach. The sound of the door shutting behind him resounded in the room, echoing off each wall as they momentarily sat in silence. Despite being momentary, each second seemed to feel like an hour.

But they had no time to dwell on it. Sukiara ensured it, quickly returning back to the initial subject; the plan and their tasks. “We have to assume they will be heavily guarded or equipped to handle benders, or both.” She seemed unfazed as if she was listing their grocery shopping list, even though she was obviously picturing the dangerous task ahead of them.

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What can handle benders? Other than the cuffs, of course.” At the sound of his voice and the panic in Sukiara’s eyes, Tari’s heart dropped further than before. He’s risking his life…he’s only two years younger than me.

Sukiara pointed to Tari, designating her the task of explaining what she had told Sukiara when she had stayed in Bak Mei for a week. “Uhm…” Her eyes still lingered on the door, praying Johnny and Kilari will burst through the door and return to their seats or praying that by some twisted means of fate, someone would come in and exclaim it’s a prank. However, Sukiara snapped her fingers – semi-breaking her out of the trance. “Uhm… when Kilari and Doyoung were attacked in the…” She trailed off, her words getting lost as she continued to pray Johnny and Kilari returned.

“The initial attacks?” Yuta finished for her and Tari smiled at him gratefully. His hand went to her knee, his thumb stroking up and down comfortingly. Hearing his voice successfully broke her out of her hypnosis on the door. She noticed Sonan and Doyoung leaning in, intrigued about what Tari had to say. They didn’t hear anything about this before, even if they were there and they felt guilty to how they didn’t notice her struggle.

“I had a hard time healing them and it felt like the wounds were…” She scrambled through her mind for the right words, “fighting back or needed extra effort to actually heal.” Tari said, still somewhat despondent. Doyoung’s eyes went wide, before his eyes quickly jumped to where Tari had healed him.

Sonan stared at Tari in shock. How did she not notice? She tried to search back in her memories for that moment, but she was a bit drunk by then. The memory was faded with missing pieces. They had drank to forget the aftermath of the attacks, and never has she hated drinking more.  

“It’s safe to assume they’ll be armed with similar materials or similar techniques.” Sukiara took over the room once more. “They might’ve been inspired by Ty Lee’s fighting style.”

At the mention of the familiar name, a flashback to a memory Tari has never personally experienced overtook her senses. This is the first time in a while that a memory from her past life succumbed her involuntarily, taking over her senses as if she was reliving the moment.

Suddenly she was in an emerald room, something she recognized not only from her memories but the textbooks on the old legendary nation of Ba Sing Se. It was dark, the emerald seeming to reflect the shadows around the room. Tari could smell the scent of tea from the throne to the perfume of the Kyoshi Warriors in front of her.

An undeniable rage grumbled in her stomach, but she wasn’t in her own body. She had no control about what she would do about this rage - Avatar Aang was in control, and always the best at suppressing his negative emotions.

She could recognize, using Aang’s hindsight, the three Kyoshi warriors as Ty Lee, Mei, and Azula. Despite the rage seeming to pump through their blood, Tari also felt pity for Azula and a sense of missing Ty Lee and Mei (probably a result of Aang’s later friendship with the two).

The pity for Azula was overwhelming now as she lived through the memory, unable to act. Azula was only fourteen and was taught to be a war machine. She was born in the same life as Zuko, and Zuko was neglected and mentally abused – even physically. In the back of Tari’s mind, another mental image of Azula being dragged away by the mental institution and jail reminded Tari of her fate.

Katara approached, starting to water bend from the small capsule of water she brought with her. But Ty Lee cartwheeled towards Katara and flipped over her. Almost in slow motion, she pressed a point on Katara’s neck – causing Katara to groan in pain before falling to her side and the same water she was bending pooling out of her body.

“A combination of pressure points and acrobatics…” Tari commented. “But do you think the materials have something to do it?”

Instead of responding directly to the question, Sukiara deflected. She let out a sigh that Tari swore was the most disappointed sigh she has heard from her in her life. “I know you don’t like fighting, but I think…” She emphasized the word Tari had used in her questions, “you have to train and be ready to fight.”

Tari’s heart dropped. How about the other benders? Can they get stuck in the crossfire?

Before Tari could object, Sukiara shouted out demands and instructions. “I will finalise the plan by tomorrow night. You have 4 days and 3 nights to prepare. Tari and everyone, please go get dressed in training attire. Yuta and Jisung, fire and earth are Tari’s least mastered elements. Please train her with it. Especially fire, so please start on that today. I will send down our bending moderator to discuss with you Tari’s progress.” She turned to the only non-bender left in the room. “Sonan, feel free to help me strategize or practice with our weapons expert.”

With that, Sukiara marched out of the room with no reaction – as if she was a robot. These were the times Tari remembers that Sukiara wasn’t her parent or her legal caretaker, but a guardian and a manager. Her priority is not her wellbeing, but her ability to do the Avatar’s purpose; to keep balance in the world.  

Tari was still shell-shocked, but she had an idea she believed Sukiara must hear. Jumping to her feet, she ran to the door frame and leaned out. From hanging out the room, she watched Sukiara walking down the empty corridor..

“Can you contact Lin?” Tari shouted down the hall, her words echoing throughout the corridor.

Sukiara turned around briefly, giving her a thumbs up, and disappeared down the hallway.

As soon as she turned around to enter the room once more, Yuta, Jisung, and Doyoung were already heading out. “Let’s train.”

99% of Tari’s childhood and her adolescence was training or doing homeschooling. Homeschooling, however, was a mere 20% as she took accelerated courses of study. She practically finished K-12 by age 12. It helped that the whole entire history being taught in classes was in her memories – she has technically lived them before. She merely had to learn other basic skills, from math to grammar. Despite that, school was always second priority compared to bending training. Consequently, training was a hefty majority of her childhood.

With that in mind, Tari can flawlessly braid her hair out of the way blindfolded. She can navigate the training centers in the island and the temples she trained at (given they haven’t changed) in a complete blackout under a night sky.

It didn’t take long before she was in the training center, biting anxiously at her nails while waiting for her ‘trainers’ Jisung, Yuta, and Doyoung. She didn’t know where to start. Should she stretch? Most likely, but she can’t seem to concentrate. She can’t seem to stop wondering where Johnny and Kilari ran off to, what Sukiara plans, or if her friends will be safe tomorrow.

In all her life of training; of knowing the procedures, of knowing every single stretch that could possibly be known to man – this is the first time in year Tari is standing in the middle of the courtyard, uncertain of what to do. As much as she dreaded training, she just wanted it to happen already so she can stop imagining how it’ll go (which, by the way, in her head – hasn’t gone well).

Within minutes, she sees Yuta, Doyoung, and Jisung walk down the steps with her bending guide. Yes, she had Sukiara as her guardian – but she had Lia Kim as her bending guide. In that sense, Lia Kim has theoretically mastered all the elements – however she’s purely a Water Bender. Resultingly, Lia monitors Tari’s growth with bending – she keeps track of what she has obviously mastered and what she has to continue in mastering.

She has many good memories with Lia. Lia always managed to make training somewhat fun – turning training sessions into obstacle courses, games of hide and seek, challenges, and just general fun. She was the only one of her ‘three main mentors’ who turned things into games; Sukiara was always in charge of acting like a parental figure while Choi Youngjun always had to be strict due to the accelerated course of education she was required to take.

Despite the group of them gracing kind smiles on their faces, Tari was still anxiously predicting any way training could go wrong – from her burning someone to them giving up on her. Tari found that her leg started shaking without her control.

Doyoung took one glance at her and noticed this; noticed her widened eyes, her lips between her teeth, her feet anxiously tapping at the ground. He didn’t know all about her past, but he knew about her now – so well, that they can communicate purely through their eyes. That’s all he needed to know, he decided.

So, he did what he did when Tari seems panicked in public; distract her.

“Honestly, I’m glad you’re practically forced to be training with me.” Doyoung smiled. “Like, if you went to the gym, I’m about 10000% certain you’d choose anyone but me to be your trainer.”

Tari felt a weight off her shoulders at Doyoung’s teasing smirk. She stood to her feet and playfully pushed his shoulder, “Yeah, because obviously you’ll somehow end up making me do something dumb. May I remind you of the fork stabbing incident?”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The sun had set, and everyone was exhausted.

Hours and hours of training only brought them to a point of giving up, but Tari refused. Jisung has distracted himself with Doyoung once more, the two playing around with a small game they created that Tari and Yuta cannot understand at all. All they know is that when Jisung manages to balance on the airball and knock Doyoung off his feet, Jisung screams in celebration while Doyoung falls to his knees – cursing any higher being out there. Vice versa can be said when Jisung is sprawled on the floor.

They saw their work as over. Doyoung, from the very beginning, just had to remind Tari of the offensive and defensive moves of Air Bending rather than the daily tasks. Jisung had a bit more on his plate, but Yuta reminded them of Sukiara’s suggestion to tackle her biggest weakness first; fire. It wasn’t a surprise when everyone agreed.

Tari and Yuta were still in the middle of the courtyard, repeating the last move Tari couldn’t seem to master. Yuta was impressed – she was quick learner. He was surprised she didn’t master it sooner, however, he noticed she was mostly good at theory. She can describe a move perfectly, but when she actually tries to do it? Something goes wrong.

He notices how she hesitates, how her foot moves out of place, how she loses concentration on the actual move as she focuses on how she could mess up.

Her head was hurting. I swear I’m doing this right. She checked everything more than a million times; her foot placement for the millionth time, the positioning of her fingers, the angle of her arms – but all she could let out was a measly fire ball while Yuta seemed to call upon the burning core of the world itself.

Yuta could sense the frustration boiling Tari’s blood and placed his hand on her back. He’s been demonstrating from a distance initially, as requested by Tari to ‘avoid getting hurt’. But he’s been in her position before – and he often feels much more relaxed with the touch of a fellow human being.

A bell chime ran through the island, alerting every one of dinner now ready in the canteen.

“Thank God!” Doyoung praised, “I’m starving!”

Jisung following behind, “I wonder what food they’re serving today.” He commented, as if to himself.  “As long as it’s not fire nation food, I’m good.” Jisung’s face turned into a painful wince as if he just ate into the spicy dish again.

The two stopped in their positions, noticing Tari not following behind. Doyoung sighed, “Tari, you need to eat.” Tari refused to answer, Yuta still hovering over her as he tried to analyse her face. It was stern – focused on the fake target placed in front of her. “Tari-“

“I’ll eat later.” She said coldly, almost as if her words were ice.

Of course, it’s not mandatory to go to dinner at the time. Mealtimes at Bak Mei last for five hours, so often, people go when they please. But Tari even missed lunch.

“Tari,”

“I’LL EAT LATER, DO!” Doyoung jumped at the change of tone. This is the first time she properly ever yelled at him, and that means a lot considering they have been roommates for approximately two years.

Yuta, himself, even flinched. Jisung’s eyes went wide. From his position as the closest to her, Yuta signalled to Doyoung and Jisung to go ahead and eat. “Go ahead.” He insisted, “We’ll catch up.” He winked at them, letting them know he’ll try his best to get her to eat.

“Go ahead, Yuta.” Tari stated, “You don’t have to wait for me, I’ll probably never get it anyway.”

“You can’t fire bend on an empty stomach, though!” He smiled, trying to charm into the canteen. She can’t say it wasn’t working; his smile was so bright, like he was radiating happiness. “Isn’t it fire nation night tonight? The food will definitely help, think of all the spice.” He made tingly-motions with his hands, making Tari’s guard fall down and letting himself chuckle.

Tari dropped her arms from the position. “Fire nation night was last night. It’s air nation food tonight.” Her voice was suddenly small.

“Even better!” Yuta clapped his hands, “My dad used to make the best dumplings. He was born in Air Temple Island actually, he actually was living with Aang.” At the mention of his name, especially while training – her heart hurt.

Was this how Aang was feeling? About fighting the fire lord? Conflicted, loss, unwilling to do it? How did he do it? Why can’t I be more like him?

The half-fire nation and half-air nation citizen smiled sadly, noticing – even under the courtyard’s dim lights – how Tari’s gaze fell to her feet with a darkened glaze. “Okay, how about this. I help you master this move. We go to dinner. And if you really want to, we do another training session after dinner. You don’t have to meditate tonight.” Yuta sighed.

Tari looked up at him; his sparkling brown eyes full of concern, his small smile. How could I say no? When she begrudgingly nodded, his small smile was replaced with a large one that showed all his teeth – his face immediately becoming brighter. She swore she wouldn’t need the courtyard to be lit up when he’s there, smiling. It reminded her of the candle fountain in the earth nation, something Lin snuck her out after curfew to show her. It was a beautiful sight.

“Okay, then, let’s get a move on because we need to get some food in you.” He teased, his hands immediately being put on Tari’s waist. At the skin ship, Tari shivered. She normally never shivers – it’s the beauty of air bending helping adjust to the temperature around her, but his touch seemed to shoot electricity throughout her. She regrets not wearing a longer T-Shirt, but she normally wears crop tops to train, especially when bending fire.

He was strong, but the way he helped Tari fix up her stance was gentle – as if she was a fragile doll. No one treated her as gentle when training as he is now, other than before she found out she was the Avatar. They always pushed her, continuously challenged her. She can’t recall every bad bruise and injury she got from training – it’s probably over a thousand. But he was treating her like she was made of glass. Her heart fluttered.

“You have to remain loose,” He nudged her feet to be wider apart, “you have to be ready to move fast so keep your heels off the ground.”

“But earth bending, your heels have to be down right?” Tari clarified.

“Yeah, but this is fire bending, babes.” Tari swears this man must know how to do lightning bending, because everything that comes out of his mouth sends electricity down her spine. He inched closer, his chest pressed against her back as he fixes her posture. His hot breath brushed behind her ear. “Keep your arms shoulder level.” His hands trailed upwards, tickling her sides, as it went to help her position her arms. “From,” His hand trailed towards her hand which is outstretched in front of her. “Bring this in with your fingers tight together as if they were glued on the sides,” Holding the back of her hand, he guided it close to her chest – as if pointing to her heart. “Turn your palm over as it faces you,” As he instructs her verbally, he’s helping guide her movements with his right hand while his left hand is still holding her hip loosely. “…and then slice the air and shoot it out.”

It all felt intimate; his lips behind her ear, his hot breath hitting it with very word, his hand against her hip. “Now, that’s the hand movements. Do you know what to do with your feet?”

Tari launched her right foot up, keeping the bottom of her foot flat towards the hypothetical opponent. “No, no, you need to point it towards the target. Pointing it makes your kick sharper and helps you move more efficiently.”

She nodded as she amended to his feedback. “Okay, perfect. Now do it without me. Remember, focus on fire. Focus on what you want. Focus on the energy you feel, the electricity within you.” He stepped back to watch her perform the move basically perfect, except for one thing. “You have to stay off your heels.”

“Ugh!” Tari could do this easily with air bending, which also emphasizes getting off your heels. “It’s just like air bending, but why is this harder?”

“Exactly,” Yuta grinned, his eyes looking down at her lips. “It’s harder because air bending is about peace, patience, liberty, and balance. That seems to be like you, from what I’ve seen. Fire?” He started leaning in, “it’s all about passion,” His voice became huskier and more hushed as he leaned even closer. His eyes glanced down to her lips, before back at her eyes.

Tari was surprised; as she found herself leaning in too. Soon, they were millimeters apart. “It’s about performance, but mostly - inner fire.” And his lips pressed onto hers.

It was as if the kiss could help them learn everything about each other, as if their lips were books about their whole lives and they just wanted to know everything. His lips were soft and moist, breathing into her lips gently as they kissed.

Tari pulled away, the heat in her cheeks not going to disappear any time soon. She felt awkward, but immediately wanted to cool the tension. “Passion, huh?” She chuckled, biting her lip and trying to hide her blushing cheeks from the cocky Yuta. “I thought fire bending was also about providing a source of life.”

The master bender chuckled. “Technically, yes. But I wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, dinner, shall we?”

Let’s just say, Doyoung knew something was up inside the canteen when she refused to mention training and when Yuta’s leg was leaning against Tari’s under the table.

request anything for future parts / penny for your thoughts here

[sonicrevival]

Ultimatum- Chapter 4 of 5: Raid

Oops, I’ve been slacking on the upload schedule here. Life’s been weird.

Still, here’s the next chapter:

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500557/chapters/44004604#workskin

Sonic: Revival- Ultimatum Chapter 4 of 5: Raid Emerl and Silver stood back as Sonic, Tails, and Amy hugged Sally tightly, as Nicole floated over to join the two of them. “Not joining the group hug?” Emerl asked. “Oh, I had my turn already. Besides, no body,” Nicole replied, her avatar growing to normal size. “Is she safe now?” Silver didn’t avert his eyes from the quartet. “Yes, she is. Eggman’s programming has been purged from her systems, and the bomb has been completely disarmed. I think it’s safe to say this crisis is at an end. Or at least, it’s not a crisis anymore,” Nicole explained. “There’s still the matter of restoring her to normal, but I think I have a solution for that.” “You do? Those mods seemed pretty extensive. I’m not sure we can reverse them…” Emerl mused. “Yeah, I can’t imagine Eggman would keep her original parts after he removed them. I mean, I haven’t seen much of the guy, but he seems like that kind of monster,” Silver added. “True, but if we super-charge her repair systems, then we can just dismantle the ‘upgrades’ and let her fix herself!” Nicole beamed. “Will that work?” Silver tilted his head. “In theory, yeah,” Emerl nodded. “My repair unit does the same sort of thing for me, I was basically a skeleton when Nicole woke me up.” “Okay, next question, how do we do that? I mean, I’m gonna guess it’s not as easy as plugging her into the wall.” The grey hedgehog shrugged. “No… It will need to be a much more powerful charge… this needs to be completed quickly, and for injuries this extensive, I’m not sure if even Emerl’s core will be enough…” Nicole shook her head. “Fortunately, I think I might have a solution,” Sally walked over, followed by the others. “I couldn’t keep from overhearing, but I know that Eggman has another Chaos Emerald within the Death Egg. If we can recover that and combine its power with the one inside Emerl, that should do the trick.” “The Death Egg’s that big stupid-looking space station that’s landed in the distance, right?” Emerl asked, jabbing her thumb in its general direction. “That’s correct,” Tails nodded. “Are you guys in any condition to attack that thing?” “We don’t have a lot of choice, do we?” Sonic asked. “If we don’t go for it now, we might miss our chance, and that’s not an option.” “Alright then,” Emerl shrugged. “Group up, I’ll warp us in.” “Actually, you’ll have to settle for getting us close,” Sally shook her head. “Eggman has the whole thing shielded against teleportation.” “Well, alright then.” *** Having closed the distance within seconds, Sally led the impromptu party into the Death Egg. With Eggman several miles from the station and with no functioning technology to hand, the Robian squirrel still had full security clearance, and was able to simply lead them through the door. Of course, once they were inside, the security systems detected the presence of the rest of the group, deploying an array of sleek, white-armoured guard robots emerging from concealed doors within the walls, aiming automatic arm guns at them. “These are new,” Sonic commented, crushing the cranium of the nearest robot, bouncing to another, then another after that, leaving a trail of non-functioning droids in his wake. “Wow, more terrible robots,” Emerl’s fist tore through another, ripping out the core of the machine, slamming the shell into the squad behind it. “Isn’t this guy meant to be smart?” “He’s also insane,” Tails replied, cutting the legs and weapon arms away from the robots, as Amy batted them away with her hammer. “According to records, he has actually stopped his minions from claiming victory over Sonic because he wants to do it himself. These likely aren’t meant to be that dangerous, and were probably made to just slow Sonic and tire him out before Eggman would confront him personally,” Sally explained. “Of course, he isn’t here now, so that’s only going to work in our favour.” “Well, can’t complain about that,” Silver waved his hand, scattering the remainder. “I can,” Emerl growled, jogging over to the door. “I want a good fight, and so far, I haven’t had one.” “Maybe wait for that until we’re not on a time limit. We have to get this done before Sally’s charge runs out,” Nicole smiled slightly at her new friend’s grumpiness, then glanced at the control panel. “Hold on, I can get this open.” Before the lynx could make her move, however, Emerl slammed her fist into the sliding door, punching it clean off of its tracks and propelling it into the room on the other side. The hologram paused for a moment, shooting Emerl a look as she huffed and stomped through the doorway. “That door was tougher than the robots.” “They’ve known each other for a matter of hours and they already bicker like Sonic and Sally do,” Tails sighed. “Hey!” Sonic yelled. “I mean, he’s somewhat right…” Sally mumbled, scratching the back of her head slightly. *** Progress through the station wasn’t much different after that. The robots posed little threat to the group, even with four of them tired and a fifth barely able to fight in her current body. Sally continued to lead them toward the core of the station, where their quarry lay. As Emerl tore another set of doors away from their mountings, they stepped into the core chamber, the Emerald casting a blue light from pillar in the centre of the room, wires and cables extending out from it and disappearing into the walls, floor and ceiling. “There it is!” Amy beamed. “This looks too easy…” Silver mused, eyes flicking around the room. “You’re right, there’s something in here…” “Welcome, Sonic! I hope you’re enjoying your tour of my wonderful Death Egg!” “Eggman!?” “Unfortunately, this is a recording, and I’m not around to share some scintillating conversation with you. Poor timing on your part, of course. Still, I knew you would seek out the core of the Death Egg once you found it, and the Chaos Emerald therein, and I couldn’t leave it unguarded, so I hope you’re ready for a fight! Allow me to introduce the greatest of the Metal Series and Mecha Sally’s partner in crime… Mecha Sonic, kill him.” The base of the pillar opened, steam pouring out as the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered robot, vaguely in the shape of a hedgehog, appeared through the fog. An orange-red visor lit up, a bar of identical colour crossing its chest. It took a step forward, clanking heavily on the metal floor, as the cloud parted, exposing its blue armour. “Hedgehog: Priority One.” Its engine roaring into life. “Oh, that’s not good.” If Sally could’ve gulped, she would have. “That is actually not an awful design… Alright…” Emerl cracked her knuckles, dropping into a low stance, her arms wide, fingers spread. Her third optic opened, and her eyes narrowed, as if smiling with anticipation. “Let’s go!” Both robots launched forward, boosters carrying them over the ground. Emerl drew her fist back, winding up for a heavy punch… only for the newcomer to juke around her strike, accelerating past her and toward the rest of the group. “Hey!” “Scatter!” Sally commanded. She and Amy jumped to the sides, as Tails and Silver took off. Sonic lowered himself, and returned the charge in kind, curling up as he launched forward. His spinning form hit the robot’s forearm, only to bounce off, slamming into the back wall. Grunting in pain, he looked up to see a metal fist aiming straight for his face. His head ducked to the side as Mecha Sonic’s punch crumpled the wall where it had been just a moment before. “Hey, excuse me!” Mecha Sonic’s head glanced over its shoulder, just in time to see Emerl’s backhand crash against its temple, denting the armour slightly. The machine staggered and was seized in a cyan aura, suddenly disappearing across the room and crashing into the pillar. “You okay?” Emerl asked, as Sonic peeled himself off the wall. “Yeah. Seems like it’s fixated more on me than on the nearest threat, and I don’t think I can take another fight like this, so I’ll keep its attention, and you guys beat it down!” He straightened himself up. “Guys, hurry! I can’t hold it back much longer!” Silver shouted, visibly straining against Mecha Sonic’s strength. Nodding, Sonic launched himself forward, boosting into the paralysed robot, driving it through the generator. Mecha Sonic’s back scraped against the ground, kicking up sparks, as Sonic sprang off of it and began to run away. “Catch me if you can, tin-grin!” He jeered. It rolled onto its front, preparing to stand up, just as Amy brought her hammer down on its back. Its arm swung out, knocking her legs from under her. Rolling up into a spiked shell, it launched itself off the ground, homing in on Sonic. He just managed to evade it, leaving it to crash into the floor, cratering it. Uncurling, it reached out for him, as he turned on his heel and kicked the robot in the face. With a dull clang, Sonic stumbled back, clutching his foot, and received Mecha Sonic’s fist in his gut for his troubles. Hurled across the room, he thudded against the wall for a second time, wheezing for air. “Okay, bad idea,” He groaned, as Mecha Sonic stood up, stomping toward him. Its hand retracted, the barrel of a gun extending in its place, pointing it at him. It opened fire, but the bullet never found its mark, squashing against the forearm of Mecha Sally, the Robian glaring daggers at it. “Unit: Mecha Sally. Stand aside.” It spoke flatly. “Never.” She carefully moved herself forward, stance low. “Unit acting in violation of protocol and given orders. Unit has turned traitor. Unit will be destroyed. Priority system disabled.” It thrust its arm forward, fist reforming as the royal moved to dodge. The new weight threw her balance off, however, and she stumbled awkwardly, the attack just scraping against her armour. Unsteadily, she caught her balance for a moment, leaping forward to kick it. Her attack falling short, she felt the robot’s foot crash into her stomach, throwing her back against the wall. “Sal, are you okay!?” Sonic helped her stand. Even with the beating he’d already taken, he had elected to focus on her. “Agh… this body’s all wrong… the strength, the weight, none of it works.” She groaned. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to fight like this…” “Well, you can’t be doing as badly as us,” Sonic smiled weakly, trying to steady himself. As if to illustrate his point, Tails’ attempt to slam his namesakes into the droid’s armour was halted when it grabbed hold of the attack and swung him into the floor. This time, it didn’t stop there, however, and brought up its foot to stomp on him. “Hey, get away from him!” Sonic yelled, boosting into his newest mechanical counterpart. Unsuspecting and balanced on one leg, Mecha Sonic was unable to prevent itself from being lifted off the ground and slammed into the column once again. Jolted for a moment, it raised its arms over its head, then swung them down onto Sonic, knocking him to the floor. It kicked him away, straightening up. As he scraped to a halt near Sally and Tails, Sonic spotted Amy charging toward the robot. Leaping up, she swung her hammer straight down toward its head, but it sidestepped, hand coming up to grasp the head of the weapon, stopping it dead with a loud clang. It twisted, swinging her into the remains of the column, then reached out with its free hand, grasping her neck. It roughly drove her into the floor, tearing the hammer from her grip in the same motion. Sally sprinted as best she could toward the Mecha Sonic. Despite her lack of agility with the awkward, heavy body, she was still in better shape than most of the others, and even if fighting was almost impossible like this, she could at least take hits that they couldn’t. Mecha Sonic’s head snapped toward her, and it threw Amy straight at her, forcing her to halt her charge and catch the hedgehog. The robot turned, hurling the stolen hammer into Silver, breaking his aura. Rolling into its shell again, it revved up and launched into the falling hedgehog, rebounding away and striking Sally’s back. Landing, Mecha Sonic turned to face the fallen group as its chestplate slid open, a squat barrel emerging from within. Sally gently set Amy down, forcing herself upright in time to see a harsh red light building within the newly exposed cannon. At this range, all of them would be hit by the blast, and most of them were unable to dodge. Raiding the Death Egg had been a bad idea, Sally decided. They could’ve gotten another Emerald, rather than just running in when most of her friends were running on empty. Just as Mecha Sonic braced to fire, Emerl landed behind it, wrapped her arms around its waist, and flipped it backwards, suplexing it headfirst into the floor. The cannon fired, a storm of plasma erupting from its open torso, completely destroying the central pillar and tearing through the wall of the chamber. Righting herself, she kicked it away, metallic spines scraping against the ground before it flipped over and came to a halt, lying on its front. “Nicole, jump into Sally. She needs you more than I do right now,” Emerl stated, squaring off with the Mecha Sonic as it stood up once again. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, she can barely fight, maybe you can help her. I’ll be just fine,” She nodded, punching her fists together. “This is just what I’ve been waiting for.” Both robots charged at each other, as Nicole nodded, retreating from Emerl’s systems and returning to Sally’s, settling in. “Is this a good idea? My processor is already rather taxed,” Sally asked, feeling the AI uploading herself. “I have an idea, actually. Your body isn’t suited for the way you normally fight, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something with what we have to work with. I will just need to do some power re-routing, though…” Nicole replied. “Like Emerl said, you’d function a lot better with just the one pair of cannons and swords, though I suppose you only have one of those now. The others are relatively useless and just taking up energy. Once that’s done, I’ll just be aiding your muscle memory.” “Right, right…” Sally flexed her right arm, the blue blade extending from it. “Let’s try it...” Emerl ducked under Mecha Sonic’s first punch, driving an uppercut of her own into its midsection. It staggered, torso spinning at the waist as it stepped back, arm clubbing against the side of her head. Reeling away, she grunted slightly. “Huh, felt that. Nice,” Emerl charged, her engines firing, drawing her fist back. Mecha Sonic responded in kind, palming the Gizoid’s punch aside and slugging her in the chestplate, launching her back. Bouncing off the floor, she tumbled over, slamming her hands into the ground to bring herself to a halt. Mecha Sonic rolled up, spinning toward her. Emerl revved herself up, surging forward to meet its charge. Both robots rebounded off of each other, homing in again. The bladed shell dug into Emerl’s curled form, flicking her back and forcing her to unroll. Mecha Sonic opened again in the same moment, engines roaring to life as it barged into the smaller robot, driving her into the wall. Pressing its forearm against her chest, it flipped out the gun in its free arm once more, the barrel widening and pulling back to expose a small missile, which it aimed right for her face. Before it could fire, the larger machine jolted, rearing back as something sliced into its back armour. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Emerl activated the laser beneath her crest, blasting it back, drawing her feet up and kicking both of them into its torso, sending it crashing to the floor. Sally flew up beside her, balancing carefully on her own engines. “Thanks for the save,” Emerl nodded to her, peeling away from the wall. “It’s tougher than it looks. I’m surprised that it’s one of Eggman’s.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Nicole’s rerouting power from the useless weapons to the sword and arm guns, so I should be able to help.” “Alright, let’s finish this thing and get that Emerald!” She grinned, folding out her chainblades, and launching herself at Mecha Sonic. Sally followed, activating her left arm’s cannon. She curved around, opening fire from an angle where she wouldn’t shoot Emerl. Standing upright, Mecha Sonic raised its arm to shield itself from Sally’s gunfire, dodging Emerl’s diving thrust at the same time. It brought its elbow down sharply onto the Gizoid’s head, stopping her flight short as her face met the metallic floor. It turned, firing the missile at Sally, but a precise shot, aim guided by her AI comrade, destroyed the rocket. It exploded before it had even gained a lock, cutting off Mecha Sonic’s vision of her. Taking her chance, Emerl jumped back to her feet, slashing across its shoulder. It rounded on her, throwing a punch at her face, meeting the flat of her second blade with a tooth-grinding shriek. She chopped her free blade down, but it grasped her wrist, forcing her weapon away Seizing her chance, Sally lunged through the smoke, aiming her sword for the robot’s arm, slashing at its elbow. The arm buckled backwards, and Emerl wrenched her blade free, cutting across its midsection. The sword ground against its armour, but didn’t penetrate it, and Mecha Sonic rose up again, backhanding both of them aside. It leapt after them, grabbing Emerl’s ankle and slamming her into the floor, before hurling her away, into the wreckage of the central pillar. She stumbled to her feet, blades folding away as she shook her head, trying to clear her vision. As she steadied herself, a bright blue glow caught her eyes, filling her sight. As the light grew more intense, she raised her arms to shield her optics, but even with that, she felt the light pulling her in. Emerl stepped carefully closer to the light, spotting the source. Lying amongst the rest of the rubble sat a glowing blue gemstone, radiating boundless power. It must’ve been the Chaos Emerald they were looking for, freed from the generator. She wasn’t sure why, but she swore the glow shouldn’t be this intense… even though she didn’t recall ever seeing a Chaos Emerald in the past… More than that, it called to her. She stepped closer, slowly edging forward. Mesmerised by the Emerald, she carefully reached out for it, fingers closing around the stone, lifting it from the floor. Outside, Sally dodged away from Mecha Sonic’s fist. Considering how much of a fight this robot was putting up, she was starting to wonder why she had been sent out, and Mecha Sonic kept within the Death Egg. She supposed there was a certain logic to keeping a powerful sentinel within the base, but it was more likely that Eggman just wanted to taunt Sonic by using her. It pressed its assault, as she sidestepped it, slashing the sword across its back. As it turned toward her, she spied a gap in its plating, and buried the sword inside. Mecha Sonic let out a mechanical growl, as it folded its missile launcher into place once more, aiming it at Sally’s feet. The missile speared into the ground, exploding and hurling both robots apart from each other. Mecha Sonic landed on its feet, but Sally landed hard, forcing herself to stand as her opponent stalked toward her. Bringing her cannon arm up, she opened fire, shooting the larger robot in the chest. It paused, the beam holding it back for a moment, before it forced itself forward. The delay was enough for Sally to stand upright, however, and she moved to strike at the damaged area of its shoulder once again. Mecha Sonic’s hand caught the blade, and even with the boosted power, the armour on its palm held firm. Sally tried to wrench the sword free, but it wouldn’t budge. Its grip tightening, the cobalt droid shattered the weapon, leaving her with nothing but her guns and her fists. The cannon in her right arm locked into place, and she lifted off from the ground, firing a sustained beam from both arms into Mecha Sonic. Its arms crossed in front of it, planting one leg behind it to brace, shielding itself from the brunt of the blast. In an instant, it dodged to the side, leaping into the air and curling into its shell once more, diving toward her. Sally aimed the cannons at it, opening fire once again, but her beams deflected harmlessly off of the armoured ball, not even slowing its flight as it crashed into her, grinding against her plating as it bulled her across the room and rammed her into the wall, rebounding away to let her collapse to the ground. Sally groaned, straining to rise from her position, warning lights flashing across her HUD, Nicole pleading with her to get up and flee, but her body refused to obey her. Something had been jarred loose, and her systems were no longer responding. Mecha Sonic loomed over her, staring down at her, no emotion readable in its visor. It aimed the missile launcher at her head once more, when a shockwave rippled out from the wreckage in the centre of the chamber. It turned, just as a blue light flooded out from the ruined core. For a moment after touching the Emerald, the wrecked generator was quiet. Then, power exploded from the Emerald, energy streaming out from between Emerl’s fingers, enveloping her in a cyan aura. Automatically, her chestplate opened, exposing her core, as the Emerald almost flowed into the depths of her chest cavity, before the armour slammed shut again, the aura flaring up more violently. Her eyes widened, but all she could see was the Emerald itself, floating in front of her, before it was washed away by fire. She blinked- That was odd, she didn’t have eyelids, how was she blinking? But as her eyes opened again, she found herself above a burning city. Black towers and pyramids stretched as far as her eyes could see, flames consuming them, people fleeing, a flash of red metal streaking toward her. Her hand reached out, for a moment it looked wrong, too thin, without the joints visible, but she blinked again and it looked normal. “Wh-what..? What the hell…?” She gripped her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut, and shook her head. The screams stopped, the heat of the flames faded, and she felt her feet touching the floor once again. She was back in the Death Egg, wreathed in a warming blue glow. The Emerald was no longer in her hand, but she felt its power within her, flooding her, filling her… making her stronger. Stepping out of the rubble, all three of her optics fixed on Mecha Sonic. She slammed her fist against her open palm once more, popping her neck as it turned away from Sally, squaring off against her. “Alright, let’s try this again.”

[paulruskeaton]

13 tips for future Fallout 76 players.

Fallout 76′s B.E.T.A. has given me a taste of what to expect from the full game. It has also given me a heads up on some of the mechanics and changes the franchise has introduced, for better or for worse. This post is written for those who already decided to buy 76, but chose to pick it up later, and to opt out of the B.E.T.A. Here’s some tips to make your first few hours with the game less frustrating. 

More after the break.

(These notes are based on version 1.0.0.6.; the last update released during the B.E.T.A..At time of writing, the game has not had its official release and the issues named here may have since been addressed by the development team. This post may be edited down the road for corrections and updates, if need be.)

1. Trading with party members is not the same as trading in general.... or trading as you have come to know.

In the current version, you have the option to trade with anyone on a server by walking up to them and holding down the key/button that prompts the trading screen. However, they’ve changed the up how the trading system actually functions. 

Instead of selecting what you want to buy and sell first and then confirming it all at once, you are forced to sell/buy each item individually. Pretty much, it’s less about item value and more about how many caps you have on hand. Caps are given more function in this game, as you need to them to fast travel long distances  and move your CAMP around. Okay, sure, but once you get to the real-life players involved with this system, things get... complicated.

Say you see a cool baseball bat in someone’s inventory and decide you want to have it. Here’s how you go about getting it. First, you select it, which marks the item as something you are interested in. Then the seller needs to select the item as well and then set a price. Once the price has been set, the buyer can then select the item again to purchase it. 

Sounds simple on paper, but no one in the parties I was in understood this system: me included. In fact, if you are in a party and want to swap gear, you are much better off dropping each other’s items---which appears in a bottomless paper bag at the moment---and pick it out of there. But if you’re looking to be a merchant, it’s still an awkward system. Again, you can’t purchase en mass or just swap items without getting caps involved. Okay, that’s not completely true: you can set the cap value to zero, but you still have to do this for each item you wish to sell/buy. 

Oh, and additionally, be sure to use the “offers” filter often, or at least if you get stuck with a person who isn’t talking. Which brings me to the next tip....

2. Your mic is either always on, or always off. 

There is no mic button; nobody likes this.

In most online games I know, if you want to talk, you hold down the button/key bound to that, which opens your mic. 76 does not have this. There are four options, toggled in only in settings: “Off, “Auto,” “Team,” and “Area.” The people I hung around with usually had it on “Team”, since that filters out everyone else on the server: who are the ones who have it on “Auto”. “Area”, which only broadcasts your voice to... eh... the nearby area, ended up being kind of useless, since not everyone wants to hear you all time: which will happen because Bethesda, again, made sure of that. 

You mic turns on whenever it detects a noise higher than a pin drop. So if you’re chatting with someone on Discord, have a dog, tend to breathe heavily, or if you’re pretty much in close proximity to anything that makes a noise, you will be heard unless you turn off your mic completely, or are muted. Additionally, while there is an icon that displays next to the name of the player who is talking, is is super tiny, so unless you are standing right in front of them or have a very distinct voice, you may not actually know who is talking. Speaking of things that are hard to shut up...

3. Audio Logs

In the first few missions, you are tasked with finding audio logs of the old Overseer and some groups that used to operate in Appalachia. Last time I checked, once you pick them up, they play automatically. So first off, they moved the holotapes menu away from “data” to its own menu under “inventory”; you go here to play/stop a tape. Second, if you’re playing with a team or just some unmuted folk, you’ll need to turn on the subtitles, so you can actually hear what you’re supposed to do. This comes in handy because...

4. Objectives are super vague, super cluttered, and super fickle.

You know that old problem with Bethesda quests where the compass will keep leading you inside, then outside, in then back out again for one marker? Well, that’s back: with a vengeance. At once point, a teammate and I decided to fix up a nearby power plant. The objective was simple: fix up the generator, reactor, and cooling towers. How, may you ask? Well, i’ll tell you right now, because the game sure doesn’t. You find leaks and broken yellow control panels. That’s it. 

Simple enough, right? Yes, but then the aforementioned marker problem comes into play. These leaks and panels are never in the same building and seem to use the same marker icon as everything else, so if you’re in a labyrinth of a building, and power plants tend to be here, expect to run around in circles. A lot. Additionally, unless you shut them off, you will see your teammate’s open objectives on your screen as well: cluttering up the HUD pretty quickly.

Oh, and some of these quests are on a timer. Yep. 

Some quests are called “events”. They pop up on the overworld map whenever a player starts them and anyone on the server can join in to assist. (Though they may not always get the XP... I haven’t figured out why yet.)The event ends either once it’s completed, abandoned (leaving the area) or after an allotted time. Why for the latter? Other than to annoy me, I have no idea. I do know that my friend and I failed that power plant objective, right near the end, because the game got impatient with our running around. Hardly our fault though: we kept dying. Why?

5. Because dragons.

Surprise! It’s Skyrim after all! 

Okay, technically no, but it’s an action RPG where you fight dragons so I’m making the joke now while it’s still a living horse. They’re actually “scorched beasts”, and they shoot nothing but radioactive murder plague death from their mouths. Don’t fight them until you are ready, and you won’t be for awhile. Don’t be like my idiot teammate and try to bring one down “for the XP”. You’ll just die. Over and over. Speaking of death...

6. You “lose” items when you die.

But don’t worry, you can retrieve them. But balance that choice wisely. You can respawn near your last death point, but do take a moment to ask yourself a few questions. “Why did I die?” Was it because of something manageable, like a ghoul or mutant that got the jump on you? Or was it a marauding player--who probably already picked it up--who now has a bounty on their head? Or was it because of the aforementioned murder death dragons? Take these into consideration. Also consider what you left behind. When you die, you only drop whatever junk/scrap you had picked up and haven’t stashed away yet. (More on that later.) Ask yourself, was it something kinda common like steel or cloth? Or was it something absolutely essential, like....

7. Wood and Aluminum

You need these. Always. Never walk pass them. Ever.

In Fallout 4, adhesive was the precious commodity. Now you can find that near everywhere. Meanwhile, in a video game literally set in an enormous forest, wood is hard to come by. Why? No idea. You can’t “scrap” your environment like in 4, and for some reason, axes cannot cut down trees. (Yes, they never could in these games, but I feel like there’s some serious cognitive dissonance going on here) You need wood to build shelters, crafting tables and make “boiled water”; all key for early survival. 

But you can scrape up enough wood for this if you know where to look: scrapping common weapons is the main one and some areas have lumber in small piles. The bigger headache is aluminium. Aluminum is much rarer and you need aluminum. Why?

8. Because weapons/armor can now break again.

Unpopular opinion: I actually liked the repair system of past Fallout games. Having to do equipment upkeep felt, I dunno, appropriate for a series about survival? It was also aided by the fact that you can do repairs on the fly with similar items, or the Jerryrigging perk. This time, not so much. When your equipment breaks, you need to find a workbench to fix it, and you need materials to do so. Once again, this is why you need as much aluminum as you can carry because most repairs need them. But what about...

9. Being over-encumbered.

So having to carry so much junk... well, you know what tends to happen. But the over-encumbered penalty has been tweaked a bit: while you will still slow to a crawl, it’s only after your AP meter has been exhausted. 

Luckily, they made junking more convenient: you can break down any junk, armor, and weapon at any workbench and some early perks allow you to carry more by cutting the weight of various items. Stock up on ‘em early if you can; it’ll make the trek back to your stash box easier. That said...

10. Your stash box is not bottomless.

Hoarders beware: use it or lose it.

Your stash is always with you as long as you have a CAMP around, but as I learned, it does have a limit to what can be held. Pretty much, you’re forced to craft and trade often; to not just pick up anything you find lying around because you’ll probably have use for it later. (After all, your priority is wood and aluminum anyway.) Unfortunately, I have no way to trump this system. The closest thing I found is to craft ammo: a much more precious commodity than caps. Come on, Bethesda, just because Metro uses a bullet currency doesn’t mean you’re prohibited from implementing it! That said, you may conclude that you could take the old Skyrim approach and just trade a high volume of useless crap for the good stuff. Well, guess what.

11. You cannot “print money.”

They actually nipped this one in the bud early on. Yes, you can craft things if you have the ingredients and recipes to do so. But that’s not for everything. I saw that craftable hatchets and knives can no longer be traded at the handful of NPC merchants in the game. Same goes for bullets: you’re better off just shooting your surplus ammo into the air, like a “true Appalachian”, than setting on them, waiting for value. Unfortunately, you cannot scrap bullets either, which is a shame and I hope the add the option down the line, around the time they further restrict our trading options.

12. Oh, yeah, I also said “recipes.”

There are more things in this game that require “plans” and “recipes” before they can actually be crafted. I was into this for the sake of immersion: how your character in 4 readily had the knowledge to build a small house with complete furnishings was something I found silly. But as I stated earlier, 76 has a very questionable view of reality, so it may void that a little. Regardless, you earn plans and recipes through various means. The common way, for armor/weapon modding anyway, is to scrap items, which gives you a chance to learn a new modding recipe for that item. You also earn some by completing quests and events, and can sometimes buy them from merchants. (Can’t sell them though.) On top of that, some still need the right perks to use. Oh, I should actually close on that one...

13. Perk Cards and Leveling

They brought back perks for 76, in the form of cards you unlock at every new level. You combine duplicate cards to raise thier levels as well. When you level, you are asked to put a new point into any of your S.P.E.C.I.A.L. attributes. The total number of points in your S.P.E.C.I.A.L. dictates what perk cards you can swap in. For example, if your Strength is 4 and you have a perk card that's upgraded to level 3, you won’t be able to slide it in if you have three level 1 Strength cards in the deck. Oh, and your choice of new perk card is NOT limited to what perk you decided to level up.

---

And.... pretty much those are the key things I want you future players to know. But here’s a couple other tidbits to know.

You need to be a special level to use Power Armor and some high-tier weapons. You can still use the chassis at anytime though, providing you have the cores.

Food rots. Don’t overpack with perishable meals that you won’t use, unless you plan to make fertilizer later.

You can make diluted Stimpacks, RadAway, and Rad-X, which means it’ll double your medicine supply, but will be less effective.

You can save structures to blueprints to be built later, but you will still need the materials!

ALUMINUM. WOOD. ALUMINUM AND WOOD.

And one last thing before you take off on your new wasteland journey:

Bethesda made a lot of questionable decisions here, not just in gameplay but in world building. Once again, you will find that a lot of lore has been glossed over and/or ignored by committee. You may be tempted to get very emotional over what can be perceived as a gross disregard of canon and that Todd Howard is satisfied with slapping the Fallout brand on anything he wants. 

I have come to accept this as fact and have chosen to still have fun with the game regardless.

It’s a big functional mess of a timesink that is, once again, more about making a profit than paying respect to a classic franchise: the norm of the industry. For all we know, this may become the installment that “kills” the franchise. But so far, I’ve been having fun and accepting it for what it is and prepared for whatever direction it chooses to goes in next.

As for you, I hope to meet you on these country roads very soon!

[kyberled]

MEMORY DRABBLES

@skysnipsw​ asked:

⚔️- A memory about war 🎈- A memory about a time they were safe and relaxed

// some angst and fluff to balance it out sakashsdsff

⚔️- A memory about war

An explosion rings on the not-so-distant horizon. He grimaces. It’s thunderous and angry. A hit. 

“General?” A voice by his side. He looks up. There’s a younger rebel looking at him with a note of fear in their eyes that was so much louder in the Force. Probably one of the fresh recruits. The poor kid. Braig nods his acknowledgement. 

“Go ahead.” He says. The newcomer swallows and nods as well. 

“I’ve news, sir.” They say. He nods again, looking out towards the stars. 

“I know.” He keeps his expression as neutral as he can. He doesn’t know the details, but he can sense that it’s not a positive update. It rarely is. “Go ahead.” 

“It’s a report, sir. From Ord Mantel.” They’re nervous. If this didn’t feel time-sensitive, he’d remind them to breathe. Instead, he says nothing, only raises a curious brow. The newcomer nods and looks down. “The Inquisitors are on their trail.” 

Braig’s face shifts into a frown. Behind the mediated expression, his jaw clenches. 

The Inquisition never rested, did it?

Then neither would he. 

“Prepare my ship.” He says, then turns away. 

“Wh- General?” The newcomer projects their surprise clearly in the Force. Braig wonders, idly, what sort of reputation he’s cultivated that this is seen as a shocking outcome. He adjusts the way his jacket rests on his shoulders and holds out his hands, calling his sabers. 

“My ship.” He said without looking up. He spun the hilts in his hands once, twice, nodded his satisfaction. The weight was unchanged and, by design, perfectly matched to his preferences. Polished and clean. He’d always been taught to keep them well-maintained, after all. ‘This weapon is your life’. “I’m going to need it ready if I’m to make it to Ord Mantel in time.” 

“You can’t be serious.” The newcomer said. Braig finally glanced back at them. They were staring at him like he’d just turned into a Bessalisk. 

“Deathly so.” A frown graces his scarred face. “I’m not leaving them to face this alone.”

“But–” 

“I appreciate the concern,” Braig cuts them off with a tired smile, “but I’ll be fine. I know how to handle myself - and a single ship will be easier to sneak in than a fleet.” 

“If they find you, sir…” The rookie trails off, wringing their hands. Braig laughs, even as he makes his way to the door.

“If they find me, I’ll be sure to bring you back one of their wrist guards.” 

“Just-” The hesitation taints the Force an interesting colour, and Braig cocks his head to listen. “Be careful, General. I’d be in trouble if I let anything happen to you.” 

And once again, Braig only laughs in response. 

🎈- A memory about a time they were safe and relaxed

“Hey, can I brush your hair?” Naweh asks. Braig looks up, one brow raised.

“You have a brush?” He asks. Naweh pulls a brush out from her robes.

“I always have a brush.” She says, at the same time as the twins chorus, “She always has a brush”. Braig shrugs and nods. 

“You always have a brush.” He’s not surprised anymore. He braces his hands to turn and rests his back on her knees. It’s a familiar position. A comfortable position. He’d missed it. 

“I want another one.” Naweh says as she sets to work. She’s careful as she tugs the hair tie out, and Braig closes his eyes.

“Another brush?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She starts easing out the first few tangles. “Once the war’s over and we don’t have to ration and expense everything, of course. It’s not a priority right now.” 

“Why do you need a second brush?” Lohata asks, not looking away as she scrolled down through her datapad. 

“It’s not really a need, but-” Naweh shrugs without slowing down her work. “Brushes with natural bristles help keep hair softer. It helps spread out the oils and stuff.” 

“Huh.” Hano grunted his interest from where he’s sprawled. The Force around him broadcasts how comfortable he is. He’s not going to move any time soon. “I’m next, by the way.”

“I know.” Braig can hear the grin in Naweh’s voice without seeing her face. “You want braids?”

“Sure.” Hano yawned. Braig felt one of Hano’s hands nudging against his foot as he shifts. 

“But none for you.” Naweh tapped his shoulder, and Braig almost shook his head before he remembered himself. 

“No thanks.” 

There’s a comfortable silence that settles over them like a blanket. The strokes of the bristles through his hair are soothing, and he doesn’t bother trying to stay wholly awake. There’s the faint tapping of Lohata’s datapad as she types. A quiet, metallic whir when Booda moves her prosthetic. It sounds like peace. Like home. It’s relaxing. 

“Anyone know where they’re getting sent off to next?” Garak asked. 

“No idea.” Lohata’s words are muffled by a yawn. “Wherever I’m needed, I guess.” Shah-Ki snorted.

“What?” Lohata asked. 

“I was gonna say you sounded like one of the Masters,” Shah-Ki began, picking at a loose thread on her trousers, “until ‘I guess’.” 

“We must trust the Force, I guess.” Hano mumbled with a grin from where he’d been dozing. 

“Balance is the best way forward, I guess.” Naweh adds. Lohata scoffs and waves her hand, sending a puff of seeds from nearby flowers into her friends’ faces. This was met with only laughter in response. 

“You guys are a pain.” She says, even as her snout curls into a smile. “I guess.”

[witchelny]

Piecing Together Adventure tri.’s Plot, Pt. 2

A few days ago I rewatched Digimon Adventure tri. Pt. 1: Reunion and made the first post in this series. I’d like to take a second to correct myself on a few things I had wrong.

First off, I could not remember where the virus had come from, and @alicekaninchenbau reminded me it originated from Meicoomon, though the reason why is still unknown (though it’s likely a result of her being a shard of Apocalymon’s data). Second of all, I wrongly stated that Gennai was working for Homeostasis, and @aiko-isari informed me that he is, in fact, working for Yggdrasil. It has been quite some time since I’ve watched the earlier parts of tri. and consequently I have some gaps in my knowledge due to the fact that Adventure tri. is being released so slowly, so bear with me as I get my facts straight! That’s what this post is about, after all~

So, with that in mind, here’s the revised list of the four different sides in Digimon Adventure tri.:

The Chosen Children, including Meiko & their ally Daigo. Their motivation is to protect each other, their partner Digimon, and the world.

Homeostasis, represented by Huckmon. Jesmon is also on its side. Its motivation is to restore balance to the worlds by eliminating Meicoomon.

Yggdrasil, assisted by Gennai, as well as Alphamon. Motivation currently unknown to my knowledge, though it is likely that on some level Yggdrasil is opposed to human interference in the Digital World.

Maki, who gets her own category due to her unique and specific motivations. As far as I’m aware, her sole motive is to get Tapirmon back, though she cooperates with Gennai in order to achieve this.

Determination begins with a similarly vague voiceover narration like the speech about Demiurge and Idea at the beginning of Reunion, but this time it talks about “opposing creatures,” those that create and those that destroy. This speech overlays a scene in which Leomon faces off with an infected Ogremon, so it’s possible it’s referring to Vaccine types versus Virus types. However, in the context of the larger plot, this introduction could also refer to Meicoomon as a “destructive” type of Digimon as opposed to other types.

This is followed by a scene in which the infected Ogremon, after coming through a distortion, is fought off by Maki and Daigo’s organization.

Maki and Daigo, especially Maki in particular, have probably the most interesting role in Determination - in my opinion, of course. There were many things I noticed this time that I did not put as much weight on before. For example, Maki hints throughout the first half of the film that she already knows that the infected Digimon are hunting for Meicoomon. And despite her purposeful sacrifice of Meicoomon later, Maki also treats Meiko and Meicoomon with an incredible amount of cordiality and kindness at the bath house. Why? Meiko claims Maki was a big help to her while she was relocating to Odaiba; did Maki purposely choose Odaiba for Meiko so that she’d be close to the other Chosen? Or did Maki, on some level, relate to Meiko?

I think it’s possible that Maki sees herself in Meiko and pities her, especially since she has some extra behind the scenes knowledge through Gennai. She knows Meiko is going to lose her partner. She knows what that’s like. To me, this speaks volumes about Maki’s personality and motivations.

However, Maki has one priority above all else, and that is Tapirmon. She does not let her pity for Meiko get in the way of her orchestrating Meicoomon’s descent into infection, which I’m assuming is Maki’s way of instigating the reboot so she can revive her partner. And the loss of Tapirmon is something that has scarred Maki deeply; for example, Daigo even notes the shift in her personality during the school festival.

It’s not long after this exchange that Maki notices “Ken’s” appearance at the festival, followed by this easily-missed scene wherein she takes an elevator to the roof in order to meet with him.

Though Determination does not show their conversation for the sake of concealing Maki’s ulterior motives, I can pretty reasonably theorize that this is most likely when Maki and Gennai conspired to have Maki bring Meicoomon behind the school so she’d be alone when a distortion appeared, resulting in her subsequent shift to a more violent, infected form.

Determination also gives a lot of hints to Meicoomon’s tendency to become scared and hostile easily. Hindsight is interesting, ain’t it? Her behavior was a lot more clear to me after watching Coexistence. There’s a scene in the bath house in which Meicoomon becomes separated from Meiko and starts to panic, then become aggressive - but Meiko comes in to save her right on time. Meiko seems to recognize what was happening, too, as she doesn’t seem shocked or surprised. She just instructs Meicoomon to stay near her.

Later, a similar interaction happens before the fight between Togemon and Ogremon. Meiko is very reluctant to follow Mimi because she clearly doesn’t want Meicoomon to go near a battle. And later, when Meicoomon shifts and kills Leomon, she does so because she has become terrified during the battle and perceives Leomon as a threat to her safety.

This leads me back to the original voice-over referring to destructive creatures vs. creative creatures, tying this into the prophecy that Koushiro receives by email: “The two sides of the universe are like two sides of the same coin/Those who desire true power must know the darkness, and go beyond.” Koushiro believes the last part of this prophecy - “those who desire true power ... go beyond” - refers to the Digimon achieving their Ultimate evolutions. However, I think it’s a little deeper than that. The phrase “two sides of the universe” seems to harken back to the creative power vs. destructive power theme. Consequently, I think the prophecy refers partially to the Digimon partners evolving to their Ultimate level, in addition to referring to Meicoomon’s transformation. Essentially, the other partner Digimon were able to know the darkness and go beyond, but Meicoomon was not able to conquer her darkness.

During the initial scene in which Koushiro receives the email, however, a couple interesting things happen. One, the narrative - through Koushiro and Leomon - takes the time to clarify that the distortions started occurring after the Virus, suggesting to me that it’s possible Meicoomon is not causing the distortions themselves, but rather that it’s a sort of response from the Digital World to detecting a malady in its midst (I could be wrong, though). Second, Huckmon is shown spying on them for what’s probably the second or third time in Determination.

I believe that the reason Huckmon does not make a move until later is because Homeostasis requires more information. Meicoomon, the Virus, the Chosen Children, and Yggdrasil have all been involved up until this point, but Homeostasis appears to have no idea what is going on. Huckmon appears at some interesting times - watching Meiko in her own apartment, observing Leomon and Koushiro, and even appearing in the in-between space inside of a distortion during the fight between Imperialdramon, Rosemon, and Vikemon. This suggests he is gathering intel on the other “sides” involved in this ongoing conflict so that Homeostasis can make an informed decision on how to go about restoring stability.

Something that’s also bothering me is the presence of the Royal Knights. It seems to me as if the Royal Knights aren’t a “Thing” yet, for lack of a better term; their allegiences are split. We saw Omegamon and Alphamon oppose one another in Reunion, but Omegamon is not yet a Royal Knight, as he serves the human children. Alphamon is serving Yggdrasil. Jesmon, however, is aligned with Homeostasis. And in Determination, we see an infected Imperialdramon - who is a jogress of Wormmon and Veemon - fighting against his own friends and under Gennai’s (disguised as Ken) sway. So, what’s the deal with the Royal Knights? Are they still in the process of becoming the Royal Knights throughout Adventure tri.?

Also, I can’t shake the weird feeling about Gennai using the infected Digimon for his own ends. The fact that he disguised himself as Ken and used KEN’S own Digimon against the other kids makes it seem like he could be purposely exposing Digimon to the Virus to use them for his own motivations. The problem is, what ARE those motivations?

I don’t have any answers to these questions right now, personally, but I do have one last thought on my mind that has been bothering me. There is a lot of emphasis in Adventure tri. on the kids being Chosen. “We are supposed to do this because we’re Chosen” and “This is who we are and we can do this because we’ve been Chosen” are themes commonly repeated throughout Adventure tri. It becomes especially apparent in Determination as Jou struggles to reconcile his dreams to be a doctor with his destiny as a Chosen Child. However, as I mentioned in the previous post, the race known as the Agents - of which Gennai and even Homeostasis once belonged - are the ones who selected the Chosen Children and created their Digimon.

So are the Chosen kids even Chosen anymore? Is this truly their destiny, if it was manufactured for them by someone who may have had ulterior motives? How can we say that the Chosen Children are meant to be with their partners, if the whole relationship between themselves and their partners was orchestrated by a race of beings that just intended for the Chosen to be weapons against the Dark Masters?

I doubt Digimon Adventure tri. will delve into this issue, but it’s one that hasn’t quite sat right with me throughout this rewatch. But I will say, I enjoyed Determination a lot more this time than I did the first time! I’ll be rewatching & analyzing Confession soon - that’s sure to be a doozy.

[trevorarms-blog]

Captain America vs Lady Shiva

This fight was recommended by Anonymous. You to can recommend a fight by messaging me or sending me an ask!

Captain America

Name: Steven “Steve” Rogers

Height: 6′ 2′’

Weight: 240 lbs

Physical Condition: In short, Captain America is at peak human physical condition. Captain America has no superhuman powers, but through the Super-Soldier Serum and “Vita-Ray” treatment, he is transformed and his strength, endurance, agility, speed, reflexes, durability, and healing are at the zenith of natural human potential. Rogers’ body regularly replenishes the super-soldier serum; it does not wear off. The formula enhances all of his metabolic functions and prevents the build-up of fatigue poisons in his muscles, giving him endurance far in excess of an ordinary human being. This accounts for many of his extraordinary feats, including bench pressing 1200 pounds (545 kg) and running a mile (1.6 km) in 73 seconds (49 mph/78 kph, nearly twice the maximum speed achieved by the best human sprinters). Furthermore, his enhancements are the reason why he was able to survive being frozen in suspended animation for decades. He is highly resistant to hypnosis or gases that could limit his focus. Rogers’ reflexes and senses are extraordinarily keen. The secrets of creating a super-soldier were lost with the death of its creator, Dr. Abraham Erskine. In the ensuing decades there have been numerous attempts to recreate Erskine’s treatment, only to have them end in failure. Even worse, the attempts have instead often created psychopathic supervillains of which Captain America’s 1950s imitator and Nuke are the most notorious examples. 312,628 points.

Combat Skill: He has blended judo, karate, jujitsu, western boxing, kickboxing, and gymnastics into his own unique fighting style and is a master of multiple martial arts. In canon, he is regarded by other skilled fighters as one of the best hand-to-hand combatants in the Marvel Universe, limited only by his human physique. Although the super-soldier serum is an important part of his strength, Rogers has shown himself still sufficiently capable against stronger opponents, even when the serum has been deactivated reverting him to his pre-Captain America physique. 243,508 points.

Other Skills: Rogers’ battle experience and training make him an expert tactician and an excellent field commander, with his teammates frequently deferring to his orders in battle. Thor has stated that Rogers is one of the very few humans he will take orders from and follow “through the gates of Hades”. Rogers has vast U.S. military knowledge and is often shown to be familiar with ongoing, classified Defense Department operations. He is an expert in combat strategy, survival, acrobatics, parkour, military strategy, piloting, and demolitions. Despite his high profile as one of the world’s most popular and recognizable superheroes, Rogers has a broad understanding of the espionage community, largely through his ongoing relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. Although he lacks superhuman strength, Captain America is one of the few mortal beings who has been deemed worthy enough to wield Thor’s hammer Mjolnir. 739,976 points.

Weapons and Equipment: Captain America wields a vibranium-steel alloy shield. Captain America’s shield is virtually indestructible under normal conditions; while cosmic and magical or godly opponents have broken the shield, the shield proves strong enough to absorb Hulk’s strength, and repel an attack from Thor’s mystical hammer Mjölnir without any visible damage. It is able to absorb all kinetic energy and transfers very little energy from each impact, meaning Captain America does not feel recoil or transferred impact forces from blocking attacks. These physical properties also means the shield can bounce off of most smooth surfaces, ricocheting multiple times with minimal loss in aerodynamic stability or velocity. The shield can also absorb the kinetic impact of a fall, allowing Captain America to land safely even when jumping off of several stories, as can be seen in Captain America: Winter Soldier movie when he escaped from the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE squad by jumping off an elevator. A common misconception is that the shield can “magically” return to Captain America. The “superhuman serum” that enhanced Captain America’s physical attributes also improved his mental faculties—such as cognition, perception, balance, aim, and reflexes—to near genius-level. This allows him to instantly calculate ballistic-physics and predict the probable trajectory of objects in motion. This makes him a perfect shot. He can dodge or deflect bullets with his shield without collateral ricochet to civilians, to calculate where or how the shield will bounce and when it will return to his location, or trip a running person to cause them to fall into a specific position. In Avengers: Age of Ultron, he pulls the shield back to him after it is stuck, but this is through an electromagnet fastened on his arm. After his memories are altered to make him believe that he is a Hydra sleeper agent, Rogers uses his precise knowledge of the shield to put Sam Wilson, its current wielder, in a position where he will fail to save a senator from Flag-Smasher by arranging for Wilson to be forced to throw the shield in a manner that Rogers knows from his own experience will miss its target by mere millimeters, as part of his agenda to undermine Sam’s status as Captain America. When without his trademark shield, Captain America sometimes uses other shields made from less durable metals such as steel, or even a photonic energy shield designed to mimic a vibranium matrix. Rogers, having relinquished his regular shield to Barnes, carried a variant of the energy shield which can be used with either arm, and used to either block attacks or as an improvised offensive weapon able to cut through metal with relative ease. Much like his Vibranium shield, the energy shield can be thrown, including ricocheting off multiple surfaces and returning to his hand. Captain America’s uniform is made of a fire-retardant material, and he wears a lightweight, bulletproof duralumin scale armor beneath his uniform for added protection. Originally, Rogers’ mask was a separate piece of material, but an early engagement had it dislodged, thus almost exposing his identity. To prevent a recurrence of the situation, Rogers modified the mask with connecting material to his uniform, an added benefit of which was extending his armor to cover his previously exposed neck. As a member of the Avengers, Rogers has an Avengers priority card, which serves as a communications device.Captain America has used a custom specialized motorcycle, modified by the S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons laboratory, as well as a custom-built battle van, constructed by the Wakanda Design Group with the ability to change its color for disguise purposes (red, white and blue), and fitted to store and conceal the custom motorcycle in its rear section with a frame that allows Rogers to launch from the vehicle riding it. 839,614 points.

Lady Shiva

Name: Sandra Woosan

Height: 5′ 8′’

Weight: 141 lbs

Martial Arts Skill: Lady Shiva has no superpowers, but she is regarded as one of the best assassins and martial artists on the planet. She is known to have learned and mastered numerous martial arts, including long forgotten ones. She is able to read people’s movements through their body language, predicting their movements beforehand. She taught this trick to her daughter Cassandra Cain. She is able to hold her own against multiple opponents. She is commonly seen as the world’s foremost martial artist, as powerful as Richard Dragon and Batman. Batman, who is also considered to be one of the greatest martial artists, stated that “she may well be the best fighter alive.” However, numerous martial artists have held their own against her or even defeated her. Cassandra Cain is the only martial artist to defeat Shiva in single combat, but others like Connor Hawke, King Snake, Nightwing and Black Canary have survived duels with Shiva. Although she is willing to kill, and on one occasion attempted to manipulate Batman into a position where he would have to kill in order to make a worthy opponent in the future, Shiva has shown a certain sense of honor, helping to train the third Robin in combat while working with him during an investigation, and assisting Batman in regaining his skills after he was injured by Bane and lost his fighting instinct even after his back was healed. She has also been noted as having some respect for her old teachers; when she and Black Canary learned that they had each studied under Sensei Otomo, Shiva noted that, out of respect for Otomo’s preference not to kill his opponents, she never uses the skills he taught her in fights where her goal is the death of her enemies. 733,122 points.

Winner

Captain America has a 82.84% chance of winning. Even though Shiva can match him if limited to only using his own anticipation and martial arts abilities she just cannot match his enhanced physical and mental faculties and weapons and equipment. She may be skilled but skill is only 1/8 of a fight. Bruce Lee was skilled but can you see him beat up some one who is 8 times stronger as well as much faster and smarter and is just as skilled and armed to the teeth? I’m sorry but Captain America does not mess around.

Who would you like to see fight next?

I was thinking Sabretooth

[timemachinegirl]

After 58 hours, I have completed Bioware’s much anticipated Mass Effect: Andromeda. ME: A is a vast, open-world RPG that offers ample opportunity for exploration, solid combat, crafting, and an overall fun experience. However, the space opera suffers from a few common maladies typical of franchises struggling to remain relevant in a sea of available RPG titles, some of which are more sophisticated.

I feel the need to throw out a caveat before I get much deeper into this review/reflection. I have never before completed a Mass Effect game. Five years ago, I started Mass Effect 3 but, after an hour or two, stopped playing. I can hear the Mass Effect fans crying out now (I’m sorry!). But it was an issue of time and the game not feeling “right” on PC. I mention this history to show that ME: A is really my first Mass Effect game and that I didn’t go into it with any prejudice or much expectation. After all, I’ve started plenty of games on PC that just didn’t grab me at the time.

(Minor spoilers of the game’s first few hours ahead!) ME: A tells the story of either Sara or Scott Ryder, depending on the player’s choice of twin. You’re part of an effort to colonize the Andromeda galaxy by way of ships known as Arks. The journey on the Hyperion took 600+ years and results in a rude awakening when the ship encounters a powerful energy cloud. From there, the Ryders, and other members of the ship’s crew that are awake, discover that the golden world they were meant to colonize is nothing like what they had anticipated. A small team led by Alec Ryder, a Pathfinder and the father of Sara and Scott, descends to the planet, Habitat 7, where the team is separated when the shuttle is struck by lightening. They discover an unknown alien race and strange technology on the surface. Reunited, and in an attempt to stop the lightening storm that brought down their shuttle, Alec and Sara enter an alien structure, a monolith, where Sara is hit and her helmet shatters. Alec sacrifices himself to save his daughter who wakes up back on the Hyperion.

From there, Sara becomes the new Pathfinder, essentially a scout and guide who leads the exploration and colonization of new worlds for the Andromeda Initiative. This role also gives her access to a special AI by the name of SAM and to a ship, the Tempest. As Pathfinder, Sara must lead a crew to found new outposts, balance tasks to maintain diplomacy among various factions, and work towards defeating the hostile Kett who are out to “exalt” all sentient creatures (end spoilers).

As an aside, you know your character (as seen on the left) creation skills are subpar when you find several in-game doppelgangers.

Sara can also craft weapons and armor, improve her loadout and the loadout of her companions, upgrade the Nomad (an all-terrain vehicle), romance a selection of characters (leading to an exclusive relationship if desired), and complete many tasks assisting individuals and factions.

Player choice matters to a certain extent (it can impact relationships and create allies and enemies) and can even prevent the protagonist from meeting certain characters. ME: A gives players enough of an impact on the world and reminds players of the consequences of their choices through narrative changes, messages from characters, and during dialogue.

ME: A sticks with the familiar and doesn’t offer much, if anything, in the way of innovation. It plays it safe. There’s security in that, the recognizable, and what has worked before, but is it enough?

In terms of quality, the game is closer to Fallout 4 than Horizon Zero Dawn. Now, you might be confused by that comparison so I’ll explain further. Horizon Zero Dawn is an exciting and original title that released fully-realized. It has a few shortcomings narratively, but the protagonist is interesting, her story is engaging, the game world feels alive, and the combat is satisfying. Horizon Zero Dawn is a complete game that I cannot wait to revisit when extra content releases. What it does, it does really well. Reviews and forum posts generally reach that same consensus.

Now, here’s where I’m going to differ from some critical views of Fallout 4. Many reviews gave the game 9/10 and other such equivalent scores or ratings. I was absorbed in Fallout 4 for well over 100 hours. I lived and breathed it for months. However, Fallout 4 has some problems. I ran into plenty of glitches, some of which prevented me from attaining collectibles, the graphics were meh, if not downright ugly in some areas, and much of the story seemed contrived. I still hold the belief that the survivor’s relationship with Shaun, the director of the institute, and all that arc entails is just plain weird. Having said all that, I still played for 100+ hours. I had a good time.

What I’m saying is that I can enjoy a game, but that doesn’t mean the game is great. I had fun with Mafia 3 for awhile, but the game has its issues. I’m not saying ME: A is anything like Mafia 3, but they both wilt in the light of more original open-world, RPG games to a certain degree. ME: A isn’t outstanding. As a friend said, “It’s a good, fun, flawed game.”

Another thing that Mass Effect and Fallout have in common is that both franchises have a wide, critical fanbase. Bioware and Bethesda are giants of open-world games. It’s their bread and butter. Because of the status of these developers, they can get a lot of flak when a game doesn’t match the expectations of the players. We’ve all seen what expectation can do especially with the anonymity on the internet. RIP No Mans Sky…

Fans of Mass Effect have some legitimate complaints about ME: A, primarily that the game looks worse than previous titles and that the character animations are terrible. Those critiques didn’t concern me quite as much. Instead, my biggest concerns deal with a lack of originality, the same old same, and the story.

It would have been nice if something was different about the game. I will say that the game is vast. There are plenty of places to go. It’s huge! About halfway through, I briefly worried that I had discovered all of the habitable planets. Alas, I was gladly mistaken. But the flip side of ME: A‘s size is that it is full of unmemorable side quests. Simply put, the side missions are in excess. I could forgive this flaw that plagues many open-world games, but ME: A lacks exciting random encounters, like watching a fight break out among machines in Horizon Zero Dawn, that at least makes a game world seem alive and less pre-determined/formulaic.

Beyond main story missions, everything else can be broken down into one of several side quest types: Heleus Assignment Missions, Allies and Relationship Missions, and Additional Tasks. Twice during my playthrough, I felt the overwhelming weight of missions piling up. The first time this feeling caught me, I geared up and cleaned the lists before returning to the Priority OPS Missions. The second time, roughly 40 hours into the game, I abandoned the side missions entirely in favor of the main story. With the main story completed, I easily have another 10+ hours, at least, left in these side missions. I probably will return to them if only to survive this month’s gaming drought.

It’s not surprising that I wasn’t blown away by ME: A‘s story. Quite often, larger open-world games have a more dilute story. It simply isn’t compelling. The beginning feels rushed with one of the Ryder twins predictably being pushed into the role of Pathfinder. The dialogue and voice acting was sometimes so so cringy; I saved some such moments for posterity and future laughs. (spoiler) I also think I’ve grown tired of the parent/child narrative. ME: A uses it, Fallout 4 uses it, Horizon Zero Dawn uses it, The Witcher 3 uses it…You get the picture. That’s not to say the loss/sacrifice of a parent or the strain between parent and child can’t be used in a video game, but I wonder if it’s overdone. Or, maybe I’ve played too many games with that trope (end spoiler).

It may seem that my complaints outweigh the positives, but that really isn’t so. I’m mostly critical of the game’s story, use of side missions, and the occasional glitch that cost me time and progress. Glitches weren’t all bad. As you can see from the screenshot below, I died while fighting inside a monolith and respawned inside the Nomad! I had some fun driving around in there. There are a few other minor things but nothing that stands out as much as the story and lack of originality.

On the positive side, there is plenty to do and see. I looked forward to landing on a new planet—the excitement of a new biome kept me intrigued. I took the Nomad to places it shouldn’t have gone. I genuinely enjoyed the banter between Sara and her companions, and companion to companion. More than a few times, I laughed. Drack, Jaal, and Peebee ended up being my favorites, which is a testament to the moments when the writing was solid. I grew to love my companions as the story progressed, which, in turn, compelled me to complete their loyalty missions because then they had meaning.

If ME: A released a few years ago and if the developers hadn’t switched to a new engine, or had more time to work through such a change, the game would probably be touted as something phenomenal. But we’ve seen many of its tricks several times before. Mass Effect: Andromeda is a 6.5 or 7/10 for me. It’s mostly consistent gameplay, solid combat, sci-fi nature, entertaining companions, and sense of exploration kept me going.

Mass Effect: Andromeda After 58 hours, I have completed Bioware's much anticipated Mass Effect: Andromeda. ME: A is a vast, open-world RPG that offers ample opportunity for exploration, solid combat, crafting, and an overall fun experience.