#⋚ laser - locked and lethal 。 ⋛ // • ╯ CLOSED START . ╰

[jinlizz-dragondrama]

Chapter 16

Battle Nexus R Us

(Don't watch video til you see the bold words)

Dear Diary,

Ah, Another day here in New York. It's a quiet peaceful day, the sun is shining, freshly cooked pizza wafts in the air, and pigeons feed hungrily on bread that old ladies and men feed them. Yep so relaxing City...

"Guys, guys, get a photo of me dropping a Hibernator on Big Spikey and Big Blinky and Jolly Green Torch guy" Raph sat excitedly while posing in front of each building/monument.

Ugh, which is what I would be saying if I wasn't on top of the Empire State Building observation deck.

I close my diary quickly after Raph's body slams a trash can and gets trash juices all over my hoodie.

"Ew gross...April why are we up here anyway?" I say slightly annoyed.

"This family needs to learn more about its hometown, which is why I entered us in a citywide photo scavenger hunt. And we're gonna WIN!" April says sure of herself.

We head into the elevator and take a look at the scavenger hunt list.

"So what do we win? When we win?" Asks Mikey

"Street Cred. The only currency that matters in this city" Splints answers

"And we'll do it with our special brand of teamwork-- where my brothers do all the work but we share equal credit," Leo says

I roll my eyes and punch him in the shoulders playfully.

"Not gonna happen this time buddy," I say while folding my arms

I feel eyes on me and I look back to see Donnie looking at me. When our eyes lock he pulls his hood down to cover his eyes. The past couple of weeks have been a bit awkward between us. Donnie isn't big on talking about his feelings not even Doctor Feelings could get him to cough it up.

*Flashback*

⚠️Trigger warning mentions of violence, guns, and blood⚠️

(Re-read chapter 13 if you need a refresher)

"Let's get to work," Donnie says after pulling down his mystic goggles

"Give me all you got Don Tron" I smirk

"Oh I plan to, my sweet Aqua" He chuckles

We go into a deep part of the lair where Donnie tests his more or less lethal experiments. A huge soundproof room, titanium encased, several stories high, with several stairs, ramps, poles, entrances, and tunnels.

"Ready when you are," I say while getting into a fighting stance.

He pulls out his tech bo and presses a button, it turns into a rubber bullet gun and he starts shooting. Before I could react my body took over and my body became elastic catapulting the bullets back at Donnie. He easily dodges them and the ones he misses he walks away with his tech bo.

"Interesting, indeed." He ponders

"Let's kick it up a notch, let's pretend I'm an evil alien race that wants to enslave Earth and all the planets in the galaxy and beyond" Evil laughs.

"Well you asked for it," Donnie says while pushing another button and starting to shoot lasers at me.

I dodge the lasers and what I don't dodge my body can absorb and shoot back at Jim 10 times more powerful. It was fun to see how much my body could take. I end up tripping and tumbling into Donnie, knocking him over and falling on top of him. Our faces are close together, and we both blush darkly as we realize the position we are in I take notice of his hands on my hips to catch me as I fall. His large hands were cold but not the freezing kind and they felt nice on my hips.

Author-chan POV

Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. Oh um *clears throat* continue.

Aqua POV

I hurriedly get off him, pull him up, then push him over as I jump away.

"Catch me if you can" I shout as I hop away

"Oh here comes Donnie" He shouts close behind me chuckling.

We go for hours and hours testing all of Donnie's inventions til we are both covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

Collapsing onto the ground trying to catch my breath, Donnie falls to the ground not that far from me.

"Looks...like...I'm...indestructible...." I say between each breath

"It...would...seem...so..." Donnie says equally out of breath

"Well, I need a shower, and so do you I can smell you from here," I say while waving my hand in front of my nose jokingly swishing away the non-existent stench I smell from Donnie.

"Hardy, har har" His metal arms emerge from his battle shell to help him up.

I slowly stand up, I concentrate on what my human form looks like, and my body starts to shift into my familiar form.

"Ah, it's good to be back..." I say while hugging myself

"Race you to the showers!" I shout while running toward to exit

"What happened to being tired?" Donnie asks as he starts to chase after me but something catches his eye. He reaches down and grabs a folded white piece of paper. Curiosity consumes him, so he checks to make sure the coast is clear and opens it. Seeing the drawing he smiles at how cute and well-drawn it is but something sticks out.

Donnie POV

The drawings are of my brothers, myself, April, Aqua, and Cass. Who is that? But the drawings depict a much older gang with a little turtle tot added to the mix. His mind starts to rave with many questions and theories.

"Did Aqua draw this? No that doesn't make sense if she did she wouldn't be carrying this around with her. Something about this is special and she keeps it close to her. But why? To study it? It is a bit worn out on a very specific part of the page which means she's been looking at it often. I should return this. But how?"

Something else catches his eye a small curl of hair is stuck where the little tot's drawn feet are. He makes his way to the lab making sure I'm not around, quickly entering he grabs a test tube, with a pair of sterile tweezers plucks the hair, and places it into the test tube sealing it with a cork and labs it "unknown DNA specimen".

"Thinking back on the science fair Aqua has been acting off. More off than usual I couldn't get anything out of her after she ran out of the gym. She seemed she was looking for something but what?"

"Not only that, but the incredible armor she created was Ah breathtaking. Little on that later once I figure out what's going on. She has also been wearing that mysterious comb, probably a gift from that infuriating..." sighing and pinched the bridge between my eyebrows.

"This girl is going to be the death of me"

But before analyzing the DNA components even crossed my mind I could hear my dumb dumb twin brothers' voices through the security camera which isn't out of the ordinary. But what ground my gears was him trying to "flirt" with Aqua. I use quotations because his flirting has never worked and it's very....ew.

Looking at the security cameras, seeing Leo say something while Aqua is grabbing a glass of milk. After she takes a sip, Leo whispers something in her ear and she proceeds to have milk shoot out of her mouth and nose which causes her to start coughing. It then makes my brother laugh, and run away, and Aqua chases after him.

"Flirtation attempt failed, Aqua well infinite and Leo 0"

"Get your your shell back here, you...you....oooooo"

"Catch me if you can"

*Sigh* "I should go help him but, he deserves it so I'm going to get a better look"

Putting the test tube in a secure specimen lock, inputs a code, and walks out of the lab to see the chaos just in time to see the duo run past. I smirked and had the brilliant idea to stick my foot out to trip him, chuckling and folding my arms quite amused.

"You son of a- oh boy..." Leo trips and does some cartwheel rolls and looks up to see Aqua gracefully jump into the air stick her elbow out and dish out the people's elbow into Leo's exposed plastron which causes him to splutter and his eyes almost bulge out of his sockets.

"Ah yes, the sweet sweet smell of revenge," I say while making my way to my unconscious brother and anger-fueled friend.

"I swear to the gods above if you utter a single word to anyone...ESPECIALLY HIM! I will turn you into turtle soup!

"Yeesh, she means business"

"If you wanted to take me out to dinner why didn't you just say so?" As soon as those words came out of my brother's mouth all I could say was

"WHAT?" I shout but also hear Aqua's voice shout at the same time as me

We ended up looking at each other and I could feel my cheeks start to burn.

"Aha ha ha *clears throat* I'll um just dispose of him my lady and I shall return"

Extending my mechanical arms from my battle shell I drag Nardo to his room.

"Why did I say that? Ugh, she probably didn't hear the last bit, I mean I called her that multiple times before but...but...*sigh* you're overthinking Donnie just get rid of your brother and go back to her and act normal."

I tossed my brother into his room and left a very tasteful sticky note that read "I'm with stupid" with an arrow pointing at him

"I'm so good and for the final touch, as soon as he tries to leave his room water balloons full of paint will get thrown at him...EVIL LAUGH!"

Turning back to the direction of Aqua when I returned to her current location I saw that April had joined her and they were speaking in hushed tones.

*Back to the present*

Did you see that our grades have been posted?" April says while looking at her phone

"So let's see what we have here," Donnie says while looking over my shoulder as I look up my grades

"Hey, no peeking you, dork." I giggle and then go quiet

"Uh, Aqua? Are you ok?" Raph asks me concerned

Leo snatches my phone from my hand and rolls his eyes

"These are perfect grades, Aqua!" Leo says

"Woohoo, that's my girl!" April high-fives me

"Oh wait, what's this? I see here," Leo smirks

I feel a sweat droplet start to slide down my forehead, and I make this face (😳)[ I don't know how to describe it...] Donnie takes the phone out of his twin hand and gasps.

"A B- in theater!" He shouts

"What? Why?" Mikey takes a look as well

"Let's open up the grades and see the breakdown..." Donnie opens up the assignment tab and sees the B- is from my musical performance.

Soon, everyone surrounds my phone, and they all gasp and start talking at once

"WHAT THAT PERFORMANCE WAS AMAZING?" They all say.

"You sounded like an alto angel," Mikey says

"It brought tears to my eyes, I would have hired you to be a star in one of my movies," Splints says while whipping a tear away.

"I can hack into the school grading portal and change it for you," Donnie says while tapping away on his wrist gauntlet.

"No, no, it's ok," I say sadly

"Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps," Raph says excitedly

*Flashback to a couple of weeks ago*

SIX (The Musical)

(Imagine this is the outfit you're wearing, also art by me)

I peel from behind the curtains, and I start to panic as I move my wig bangs out of my face.

"Oh God, it's a full house, I hope they found seats," I say quietly as I scan the crowd for my friends it's finally my turn for my solo. Everything has gone well so far, but this is my big moment.

"Don't screw this up, Y/N!" I say exile, slapping my cheek, which stings pretty bad and brings a small tear to my eye.

A backstage crew member walks over to me, attaches my mic to me, and makeup does one last check to make sure everything is in order.

"This is so exciting," a castmate whispers

The house lights darken, and I scoop up the skirt of my dress and rush to my spot on my throne. Fixing my dress and hair, taking deep calming breaths, and getting into character. The curtain starts to open slowly

"Showtime," I say quietly to myself as the music starts to play and I start to sing.

*Before the Performance*

Donnie POV

"Alright, everyone has their tickets?" I look around as they show me that they indeed have their tickets.

"Excellent! Now, being the genius that I am, we should have arrived early enough to ohhhhh, " Donnie says confidently until he sees the line into the theater

"Well, Donald looks like your plan didn't work out," Mikey says

"No matter, Aqua gave us VIP tickets so we can still get good seats," Donnie says as he fixes his jacket.

All of us were in our disguises but fancier as it was a semi-formal event, and April was wearing a very tasteful signature green dress. Papa cleaned up pretty well. We finally made our way into the theater and looked for available seats.

"Oh, oh, guys over there," April says while pointing at reserved seats.

"Are you sure this is for us?" Raph asks

"Oh yeah, one of the drama kids owed me one, so I was able to snag the best seats in the house!" April says while giving a thumbs-up.

I took a seat and admitted to myself that April had indeed got the best seats in the house. Lowering my mystic goggles, pressing a button, and changing to theater binoculars.

"Really Dee? Binoculars?" Leo annoyingly says

"You gotta look and act the part, dear brother," I say while looking through them

"Gimmie, those"

"No, next time, get your own Nardo."

"Boys! Have some class, " Papa interjected

"Yes, we must be on our best behavior," April says while fanning herself with her green fan.

"Ugh, fine," Nardo says, defeated

I open up the program to see the order of events and see that Aqua has a solo. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about her singing. I've only heard her sing when she thinks no one is listening and dare I say she's really good.

The lights start to dim, and the show begins. There is a slight intermission. We decide to stretch our legs and grab a quick snack at the snack bar.

"Well, I think that King Henry guy has a serious problem with commitment," Mikey says while taking a bit of a cookie.

"It's more to it than that Mikey, it's also history. King Henry VIII married each of the women to produce a male heir to the throne but none of them produced one and the character that Aqua is playing which is Anna of Celves, the King didn't find her pleasing to the eye so he annulled their marriage."

"Well, I think that King Henry DOES like Anna," Mikey says

Everyone gives a knowing look and nods their head in agreement.

*sigh* "Were you guys not -" (notices that everyone started walking back to their seats)

"H-hey guys, wait up." Rushing back to catch up with the gang and wondering what's up with them.

No matter. I know Nardo will probably spill the beans later.

The house lights darken once more, and the musical begins.

Aqua POV

I start singing my heart out and acting like a boss-ass bitch. In the middle of my singing, I lock eyes with Donnie. I was blushing slightly and continued singing. The rest of the musical went on without a hitch. Once we were finished, we took a bow, and Josh, the guy who played King Henry VII, held my hand while bowed. When we are backstage, the castmates and I congratulate each other's amazing performances. The gang comes in, I wave at them smiling, and it looks like Donnie wants to say something but Josh steps in front of me to hand me a bouquet of roses.

"For you my queen!" Josh says while bowing them and handing them to me

"Oh uhhh thank....you...Josh....they're lovely?" I say as I awkwardly accept them

I see Donnie's expression harden slightly.

"How curious," I say to myself

"So if you don't have a date already, would you like to go to prom with me?" Josh asks me

"I...uh..." I stutter a bit as I'm taken aback by the ask.

"Of course, you don't have to answer now, here's my number shoot me a text," He says while handing me a piece of paper.

Taking the piece of paper, I look from the paper to the gang, their mouths are agape and they slowly look at Donnie. His fists were clenched behind his back but he put on a brave face, walked over to me, grabbed me by the waist, picked me up, and spun me.

"An excellent performance my dear, I say I think we'll make a star out of you. You should audition on Broadway, although you'll have some tough competition." He says while he puts me back down

"Oh and who is this competition?" I ask sarcastically

"But me of course" He smirks and folds his arms.

"Oh, Dee don't you have something to give our rising star?" Mikey says

"Something for me?" I question

"Uh yes, well I made you this" He pulls a single purple rose

I take it and I don't know if it's possible but my smile got bigger.

"No way is this made from the same metal as-" I start to say

"My tech-Bo but of course" Donnie finishes proudly

"It's beautiful thank you" I study the handy work, it must have taken him a long time to expertly and beautifully create this for me. Looking up at him from under my eyelashes I can tell he's kind of embarrassed.

Well let me get changed out of these ridiculous clothes and we can go celebrate!" I say excitedly as I hand the flowers to April and rush to the changing room.

Once I was out of earshot the gang bombards Donnie.

"Alright game plan you need to ask Y/N to prom" April states

"what why?" Donnue asks.

"Uh because if you don't I will," Leo says

Everyone glares at Leo.

"Ugh fine because if you don't that nobody is gonna swoop in and steal your girl!" Leo says

"She isn't my girl and she's free to go with who she pleases," Donnie says while shrugging

"Aw come on bro you know you wanna go with her" Raph points out

I finish changing into comfy clothes I step out of the changing room gear them talking and decide to eavesdrop. Donnie's back is to me but everyone else is facing me.

"Besides dances aren't my scene and I doubt someone like her would want that....can we just drop this" Donnie says

April notices me eavesdropping and stealthy elbows Mikey and he also looks in my direction, I quickly whip the tear I didn't realize that ran down my cheek, smike, and skip over to the gang.

"Come on guys pizza waits for no man!" I shout while grabbing my flowers and running out of the room.

*2 weeks after the performance*

"Oooo what are we looking at?" Mikey seemingly coming out of nowhere

"Oh just prom dresses," I say nonchalantly

"You still haven't picked one yet?" Mikey asks

"There are just too many to choose from," I say slightly defeated.

"Well guess we have to go dress shopping!" Mikey and April say.

"Wait wait wait, how about you take the boys' tux shopping and home girl and eye check some dresses!" April sings

"Let's do it!" I shout happily as I giggle

"Alright, bros let's go topside" Mikey shouts and grabs Donnie as he runs to grab the rest of the boys.

(Watch the video above the title now)

While the boys have their montage. We girls tried dress after dress after dress all hope was lost as we walked around the mall. As a last-ditch effort, we went into one last store. Looking around I couldn't find anything I liked.

"Ah, young lady can I help you with something?" The shopkeeper asks

"No, I'm just looking," I say while looking at the racks of dresses

"I just may have the dress you're looking for," she says

I look at her intrigued and smile a bit hopeful. She scuttled away to find the dress and quickly returned. April appears at my side with heart eyes.

"Girl you have to try this one!" She says giddy

I go to the changing room, put the dress on, and zip it up. There was no mirror in the room so I stepped out of the room and all eyes were on me. April's mouth is agape and she slowly raises her phone and takes a picture.

"I look ridiculous don't I?" I say shyly

"Are you kidding me, you're gorgeous!"

"I have the perfect shoes and earrings for this dress," the shopkeeper says.

Trying on the shoes and earrings I smile at myself in the mirror.

"So have you decided if you're going to prom with Josh?" April asks

I think about Donnie, then about what he said shaking my head and smiling.

"I guess I could go with Josh as friends, but it doesn't hurt that he's mildly attractive," I say while texting him saying that ilk go with him.

I pay for the dress and accessories. Looking at the shopkeeper she looked very familiar, but besides I could fully recognize her April pulled me out of the store to the direction of the food court.

*Present time*

We are still in the elevator, it finally dings and we are on the ground level. Looking at Donnie again I start to say something as we step out onto the New York street it's eerily quiet. The sky is red and there is a huge black hole in the sky.

"Donnie, what did you do?" We all ask

Then we hear some cackling

"Big mama?" We all say

"Ladies and gentlemen it's the moment you've all been waiting for my long-promised, fantastic, whiz-bang 'Battle Nexus: New York'!"

"I'm sorry, 'whiz-bang New York' what what what?" Donnie asks

"Wait where is everybody?" I asks looking around

"Oh looks like we have a new contestant!" Big Mama says

"A who now?" I say looking up at the hologram Big Mama is projected on.

"Looks like it has decided that you should stay and participate my little darling. Defeat my champions and you win your city back. Fail and you lose it all." She says while evilly rubbing the glowy orb

"What?" We all shout

"I have only one question for you. How dare you?" Donnie says

I face palm myself and sigh loudly

"Well here we go!"

Author Note

Merry Christmas guys!! I hope you enjoy this two-chapter present! Sorry it took so long life got a bit crazy with the holidays and such. Thank you for being so patient. I have a few treats coming soon hope you guys can wait a bit longer.

Love you guys 💜

[starset21]

Sincerely, Yours

Standard disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower Summary: Training gets serious

Looking for previous chapters? Sincerely, Yours Masterlist  

Chapter 6:

“Morning…” Warlock addresses the class. “The uranium enrichment plant that is your target will be operational earlier than expected. Raw uranium will be delivered to the plant in ten days' time. To avoid contaminating the target valley with radiation, your mission has been moved up one week.” Elliot and Ria share a look, the latter biting her lip. “Sir, no one here has successfully flown the low-level course,” Coyote spoke up from his seat beside Hangman. “Nevertheless, you have been ordered to move on. Captain.” As the class absorbs this, Warlock nods to Maverick to take over. “We have one week left to focus on phase two - the most difficult stage of the mission: a pop-up strike with a steep dive requiring nothing less than two consecutive miracles. Two pairs of F-18s will fly in a welded wing formation. Teamwork - the precise coordination of these aircraft - is essential to both the mission’s success and your survival,” Maverick said looking them all in the eyes before a simulation of the mission begins to play out in slow, deliberate motion.

 “As you know, the plant rests between two mountains. To maintain the lowest possible altitude, you’ll invert directly into a steep dive. Your target is an impact point less than three meters wide.” The aircraft in the simulation climb a mountain and roll onto their backs at the peak before diving, upside down. They roll upright and dive steeply. “The two-seat aircraft will paint the target with a laser bullseye. The lead single seat will breach the reactor by dropping a laser-guided bomb through an exposed ventilation shaft on the surface. That’s miracle number one.” In the simulation, the first team’s bomb hits and the planes pull out. “Second team delivers the kill shot.” The second team’s bomb hits and the target is destroyed. “Miracle number two. If you can’t hold your dive, if you lose your laser lock, you’ll miss. If either team misses... You fail. Egress is a steep, high G climb out. And this is where you’ll be at your most vulnerable,” Maverick says. “This... is coffin corner,” he continues pointing to the point at which they’d have to start climbing again. The class of aviators shares looks. This is bad. “Should you manage to avoid this mountain, you’ll climb straight up, into enemy radar, losing all your airspeed. Within seconds, you’ll be fired upon by enemy SAMs.” Animated planes climb into a hailstorm of SAMs. They take evasive action and dive immediately. “How fast you can dive back down into the canyon, will mean the difference between life and death.”

“A climb like that, at that speed, we’ll be pulling at least eight Gs,” Jake spoke up. “Nine. Minimum,” Maverick corrected. “The stress limit of the F-18s airframe is 7.5,” Bradley said staring at Maverick. Neither man blinks. “That’s the accepted limit. To survive this mission you’ll have to pull beyond that, even if it means bending your airframe.” He points to the animation of lethal-looking SAMs firing on climbing F-18s on the screen. “Climbing out of that canyon, you’ll be a sitting duck, with SAMs coming at you from all directions. You’ll weigh close to two thousand pounds, fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out, your lungs imploding like an elephant is sitting on your chest - your skull crushing your spine.” The reality of this hits home in all of the aviators. There’s a high likelihood that one of them would not be coming back. Maverick points to the canyon map on the screen. “Your only chance of survival will be to get what’s left of your aircraft below radar again. Then follow this canyon back to the carrier. That’s if you strike the target on time. If you don’t, you may have an even bigger problem to contend with.” Maverick clicks the remote and on the screen, the enemy’s vaunted fifth-generation fighter appears. “You’ll be flying in a damaged F-18 against one of the most lethal fighter planes ever produced.” A heavy silence settles in the room. “Sir... is this even achievable?” Natasha asks after a moment. “In the end, the answer to your question will come down to the pilot in the box,” Maverick tells them, looking each of them in the eyes again. 

First up was Rooster with Pheonix and Bob. The rest of the aviators watched on the screens in the main room as they headed toward a U-shaped cluster of rusted-out shipping containers that were being used to simulate the target. Hangman with Payback and Fanboy followed them, flying at the same target, a small steel target drum behind the containers. Both teams’ aircraft fly in tandem mimicking the maneuver Maverick had shown them. They climb the fake mountain, rolling onto their backs at the imaginary peak. The teams dive toward the shipping containers that guard the target. Hangman and Payback miss the target and begin the flight back to base. Rooster curses to himself when he sees his missile miss the target by almost a hundred feet. “That’s a miss. That’s a miss.” Rooster sighs and flips off his mask. “Sorry, Bob. That’s on me,” he says as the pair begins the journey back to base. After that Maverick decides to try only one pair at a time.  “Tempest, Denver, Coyote, you’re up,” Maverick called out and the three aviators looked at each other before nodding and moving to get their flight gear on.

 “We’re twelve seconds late on target. We gotta move, we gotta move,” Denver called out. “I’m going as fast as I can,” Coyote replied. “Blue team, you are spotted,” Maverick calls out as the radar beeps. “Bandit, Bandit. Radar contact. 20 miles left, ten o’clock. He’s coming fast. 700 knots closure,” Denver relayed. “Shit, it’s Maverick,” Coyote cursed. “Stay focused,” Ria reminded them. “He’s swinging around to the north,” Denver informs her. “What do you want to do?” Coyote asked. “Continue. We’re close. Stay on target. Be ready on that laser, Denver,” Ria ordered. “On it…” Denver responded, reaching for a knob, constantly working. “Popping in 3-2-1,” Coyote and Tempest say together. They arc into the sky, rolling over to begin their 45-degree dive down the invisible mountain. “Talk to me, Denver. Where is Maverick?” Coyote grunts out. “I’m a little busy right now,” Denver replies, focused on readying the laser. “We got this Coyote,” Tempest encourages. “Captured!” Denver exclaims. “Got it. Bombs away,” Coyote replied but as he hits his payload trigger a warning light flashed. “Malfunction,” he informs them and tries again. And again. “Damnit! Hung bomb. Hung bomb.” Coyote curses under his breath before pulling out of the steep dive and starting the dangerous climb to coffin corner. Tempest and Denver were close behind him, straining under the intense Gs. Suddenly, alarms blare in their cockpit. “Maverick’s got tone on us!” Denver informs her. “Shit, we’re dead,” Ria sighed pulling out of the climb. She levels out waiting for Coyote but see’s he's continued the climb. “That’s a fail, return to base, Coyote,” Maverick orders. He however keeps pulling, harder still. And they realize something is wrong. “Coyote, do you copy?” Maverick asks. They get no response but then watch as Coyote’s near-vertical jet begins to nose over. “Coyote! Level wings!” Maverick ordered. Back in the classroom, the others watch as Coyote’s jet starts to roll. Cyclone steps closer, knowing something is wrong. Coyote’s jet fully inverts and begins heading for the ground. “Oh, god, He’s in G-loc! He’s going in,” Ria warns. Maverick curses, “I’m going after him.” Maverick dives left after Coyote, targeting his jet. “Come on, come on... gimme tone, you sonofabitch,” Maverick mutters. “Snap out of it, Coyote. Come on! Come on!” Ria sent up a small prayer to whoever was listening. Coyote is half in, half out of consciousness as alarms blare in his cockpit. “Damn it! Coyote! Coyote!” Maverick yells. Coyote yanks back hard on his stick, pulling up as hard as he could and breathing heavily. “Coyote, you okay? You okay?” Maverick asks as Skywalker and Maverick move into formation beside him. “I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m good…” Coyote manages to say and Ria lets out a deep sigh of relief. Back in the classroom, Jake slumped in his seat a little, relief flowing through him at his best friend's words. 

“Good. Good. That’s enough for today, let’s head back to base,” Maverick said. “That was close,” Ria says. “Too close,” Maverick echoed. There was a loud bang. “Bird strike! Bird strike!” Maverick calls out as another loud bang sounds and feathers fly around their canopies. Alarms blare and Elliot’s instrument cluster lights up as their jet shudders. “Engine Failure, left engine is out. Tempest, climb!” Elliot ordered. “Climbing,” she responds, pulling up on her stick. Jake freezes in place, hearing but not quite processing what he was hearing. Elliot looks over his shoulder to see the left engine is on fire. “We’re on fire, we’re on fire,” he tells her. “Throttling back. Shutting off fuel. Extinguishing fire,” she says, her training kicking into gear. She pulls back on the throttle and activates the fire extinguisher switch. “We’re losing the right engine,” Elliot informed Ria. “It’s still spinning. I’m gonna try to restart it,” she tells him. She flips the APU switch and pushes the right throttle forward. Nothing happens. “Shit. Trying again.” She tries the APU and throttle again but suddenly, with a bang the right engine now catches fire. “We’re on fire again, Tempest!” Elliot informs her. “Damnit!” she hisses. “Oh, my god,” Maverick mutters. Everyone back in the classroom looks at each other, worry present on all faces, helpless to do anything but listen. Jake’s eyes are blown wide as he stands, powerless. “I’ve got every warning light lit up back here,” Elliot tells her, and Ria can hear the panic creeping into his voice. “Tempest, Denver, punch out, punch out!” Maverick calls out. “We lost hydraulics. I can’t control it,” she told Maverick. “We’re going down, Ria! We’re going in! We’re going in!” Elliot yells as the two watch their altitude begin to drop. “You can’t save it! Eject, eject!” Maverick ordered. “Eject, eject, eject!” Ria repeated, reaching down and grabbing the handles. The canopy blows. She and Denver are ejected one after the other seconds before their jet collides with the desert floor and explodes. Maverick watches the two chutes drift, seeing the past flash before his eyes... He pulls off his mask, shutting his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath before calling it in. “Maverick to tower. We have a plane down. Send a helo.”

[rooster-the-love-of-my-life]

Two miracles.

The next day was filled with tension. Rooster and Y/N sat as far as possible and didn't dare look at each other. The rest of that gang was hell bent to keep them away. As of now they all were stiing in the debriefing room. Admiral Bates had just finished explaining the basics, that they were attacking an unsanctioned Uranium Plant that threatened NATO.

"Time will be your greatest enemy in this mission. You'll be flying through a cavern to avoid these SAMs. They are lethal. The height limit on the day of the mission will be 100 meters. No higher." Pete Mitchell came on next. He turned to the pilots explaining to them what exactly they were supposed to do. All eyes were on him.

"Then comes the hard part. You'll need to go up and do an inverted climb to hit the the Uranium plant on time. You'll do an inverted dive before going straight." He paused to let the diagram catch up. "Now here is where we need two consecutive miracles. Miracle #1 is hitting the uranium plant, now the single plane will launch the bomb, with the second plane providing a laser lock aim. Then the pilot will do a steep climb out. That's Miracle #1." 

"Now, Miracle #2 will be doing that second time. The second duo of planes will deliver the kill shot. And then they will also climb the steep dive out." He finished, as Hangman raised his hand.

Maverick nodded, pointing and motioning towards the hot shot blond. "Sir with a climb that steep you'll be pulling like 7 to 8 g's." He spoke.

"10. Minimum." The captin responded before continuing. "And right after you pass the climb, These SAMs will instantly be on you." He motioned.

"Assuming we even survive the climb, those SAM's will take out all of our defensive missiles. It'll be a dogfight all the way home." Rooster said from the back of the class.

"Excatly."

"Is this mission even possible sir?" Question Phoenix.

"It is. And that's waht I'm gonna teach you." Maverick replied. "I want Phoenix and Bob to go first, with Sparrow."

Upon hearing the orders, they all got up from their places and started getting ready for the filght. While Y/N was walking up to her plane, the voice of her father called from behind.

"Y/N. Y/N." She stopped in her tracks and truend around to see him. "Be safe okay."

"I always am." She answered.

"Good." He replied. "Now about yesterday-"

Y/N cut him off "Whatever happened happened. Let's not dwell on it."

"You should be glad that he didn't press charges or you would have been dishonorablely discharged."

"Well that would have been for the best." Grumbled Y/N.

"No, it wouldn't have." Maverick now started to get a little angry. "I need you on my team. I need you with me. Now go out there and be careful. I don't want to lose you."

To this Y/N just nodded and went her way. Soon her, Phoenix and Bob were in the air. Navigating the cavern was harder than they expected. All the power they had was not enough for this.

The force of gravity was too much for them to handle and flying so low was making it even harder.

"Come on guys, we're 20 seconds behind schedule." Said Bob.

"We gotta picknup the speed Sparrow." Phoenix said.

"Alright." Repkied Sparrow, doing as she was told . What she didn't anticipate was the turn she almost crashed into. Because of that she had to stop making Phoenix and Bob to be killed by going over the solo pilot, leaving them to die.

"Fuck." Y/N screamed over the comms as she remover her mask, flying back to the base.

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

"Why are you dead?"

"We didn't contemplated that turn. We should have waited, it's our fault." Phoenix answered the question of the angry captain.

"Is that want toure going to tell their family at the funeral?" He now turned to his daughter. "I'm sorry sir, ma'am, but it was your daughter's fault. Your son fault."

His voice got louder as he spoke.

"I didn't anticipate the turn." Replied Y/N in a soft voice.

"Why?" Maverick was close shouting. "You were breifed about the terrain, yet you still made silly mistakes. What if it was you who died huh? What do you expect me to believe?"

Sparrow didn't answer. She kept staring at the ground. She had seen this side of her father before, when her mother died. He would have mood swings and would often scold her. She didn't blame him for it though, she understood what she did was wrong and what the consequences of her actions were.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Screamed Maverick. Now everyone was at high alert. "Do you not understand how important this is? Not only to you but to me? I've already lost enough people I'm not going to loose you too. Any of you. Hangman, Yale Coyote toure next."

With that he was off, with the three guys hot on his tail. The people left were all staring at Y/N. Bon slowly got up from his seat and sat on the empty one nex to her.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

"I'm fine Bob Bob." She said patting his cheeks. "Nothing I can't handle." After saying that she fot up and went to the hall.

The last person you'd ever expect followed her. He was walking behind her, trying to catch up. When he got closer he started saying her name. Upon hearing she stopped dead in her tracks. Turning around she found no one otherwise than Rooster.

"Are you okay?" He said catching up to her and standing directly in front of her.

"Yes. Why do care all if a sudden?" She questioned, shifting her weight to another leg.

"I know how you get when Maverick does that." He said looking down at the floor. "I was just worried."

"You don't need to be." She replied.

"Can you just except the fact that someone might just be worried about you?" Rooster asked annoyed.

"No." She answered quickly.

"God, you haven't changed at all." Rooster said while shaking his head.

Y/N just nodded. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments when Y/N said "I'm sorry for yesterday."

"It's okay. I was out of line."

"I shouldn't have hit you."

"It's good to have a reality check once in a while." Rooster replied nonchalantly.

"Glad to be of service." Y/N fake slauted, to which Rooster chuckled. With that she started walking again.

"Where you going?" Rooster called from behind.

"The ladies room. You wanna pester me there as well?"

"Nope."

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

The same exercise went on for.a few days. Everyone would go up in the air and would fail to finish the mission. The only one who had done it by now was rooster, but he was a minute late.

"He's the only one whos finished the mission till now." Said Phoenix.

"Yeah a minute later. He gave time to the enemy's SAM'S to intersept him on his way out. He is dead." Maverick said.

"You don't know that." Retaliated Rooster.

"You not flying fast enough." Commented Hangman. "You don't have a minute to waste."

"We made it to the target."

"And superior enemy aircraft interspersed you on your way out." Maverick said again.

"Then it's a dog fight." Rooster replied.

"Against 5th generation fighters?"

"Yeah. We stand a chance."

"In an F-18?"

"It's nit the place sir its the pilot."

"Excatly." Maverick said loudly.

"There is more than on way for this mission to be flown."

"You don't get it do you?" Butted Hangman. "On this mission a man Flys like Maverick here, or a man dosent come back." He then nods toward Sparrow and Phoenix. "No offense intended."

"Yet you always manage." Bob replied.

"I get it." Hangman continues. "You're conservative. But we're going on a highly dangerous mission son. No living pilot has ever seen anything like that. Not even him. It not time to be dwelling at the past."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rooster asked.

"Don't tell me I'm the only one who knows that Maverick flew with his old man. And that he was in the plane when his old man-"

Before he could finish thw sentence, Rooster was on him. Upon seeing this everyone got up as well. Payback, Fanboy and Yale were holding Hangman back while Bob and Sparrow was hoping Rooster back.

"Hey Rooster that enough." Siad Bob.

"Im cool. I'm cool." Hangman said and walked out if the room.

"You're all dismissed." Sighed Maverick as everyone left. Everyone except Rooster and Maverick.

Taglist:

@4margaritasalex @futurecorps3 @thisisgracetrying @clairejpg @fangirlinc @airhogger @ashewontcare @jonginvlog

A/N: this is a shorter chapter compared to tbw other ones. Thank you sooooooo much for liking my story. It means the world to me. Taglist and requests are open. Love ya!!!

[nieladasdenani]

supercorp promt lena going over all the times kara/supergirl saved her life and how many ways shed be dead without her and realizing all the times kara/supergirl stood up for her/defended her in public and private and how she would have been treated like a luthor and put in jail without her help and just coming to the realization that kara didnt use her like she said she did because kara would not do all that if she had been using her and just all around having a big impact realization about it

Hello and thank you, Anon! This will be a challenge because I have seen very little of the show since season 3 and none of the last season whatsoever. All my knowledge comes from Tumblr posts. And because I have strong opinions of how the reveal was handled by both canon and part of fandom. So I hope it still meets your expectations.

You can read it in AO3 if you rather.

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

Lena’s hand trembles as she reaches for the bottle, so she clenches it in a tight fist and tries to take a deep breath to calm her mounting anxiety, though it doesn’t seem to have any effect. A sense of paranoia has her focusing her attention on the office door, expecting to hear the thunderous sound of trained boots rushing to get her, but nothing meets her ears. She sighs and tries to breathe deeper again. Then chances a look over her left shoulder at the balcony door, wide open, like a dare... or an invitation. If she turns completely, she’d be facing her desk, and on top of it lays Myriad, inactive. She knows she should have gone to Lex’s lair, where Hope in Eve’s body awaits to complete the mission. Would she be worried Lena hasn’t arrived? Confused?

“But, Miss Luthor, I am not your friend.” Lena scoffs at the memory and snatches the bottle and a glass.

“Neither was the person whose face you’re wearing, so I guess the integration was flawless.”

She drains the first glass of whiskey entirely in the first gulp and sits heavily on her pristine white couch. Mistake. There, on the floor, is the framed, cracked picture showing her smiling face, impossibly close to Kara’s own radiant expression. A stark difference to the one she was wearing when Lena left her in an iced kryptonite cell, inside her piece of home away from home: terrified, devastated. Some call it karma... Others call it revenge.

“Lena, please.”

Lena sighs again and closes her eyes after pouring a second glass, that she holds loosely in her right hand. Both her elbows rest on her knees, and her head hangs low. Was Kara scared for National City, the world? Or was she afraid Lena’s trap would kill her?

“Are you going to kill me now?”

Was she scared of Lena or for Lena? No doubt the DEO has a dark, hidden dungeon waiting just for her, where they can lock her in isolation, like her demented brother was before he escaped and wrecked havoc. Before she killed him... Of course Kara would be fine. Lena made sure the trap was safe. That the kryptonite was non-lethal. She made sure of it. It’s still an alien radioactive substance, though. No, no, she made sure. She studied Lex’s journals exhaustively. She’s working for good.

“I’m not a villain. You shouldn’t have treated me like one.”

So why does it feel like she’s doing something wrong? Non Nocere was conceived to remove one of humanity’s biggest flaws, to remove one of the primary reasons for suffering. She’s doing it for the greater good. She’s doing a good thing. So, why is she here and not finishing it up? Maybe because deep down she knows that, no matter how good her intentions, this is not the way, deceiving everyone to achieve her goal.-Using Kara. -Like she used me! -Did she? -Yes! She lied for years! -Do you realize you’re trying to convince yourself of this?

Lena’s whole head hurts from how hard she’s clenching her jaw. Kara lied for years. A Super and a Luthor. She must have been using her, why else would she have lied for so long? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that. The Luthor way. Making sure Lena walked the line. Saving your life, protecting you. Enough! Lena shakes her head again, harder, to silence the voice inside. It works, so she closes her eyes and sighs.

Then images start flashing: A helicopter spinning out of control towards the ground. The pilot unconscious, limp next to her. Bracing for a certain death that never comes.

“You’re safe now.”

Feeling suddenly sick. Knowing too late that something’s wrong with the coffee. Someone has posioned her and succeded at it. She clinging to consciousness, barely, dreaming of Kara saving her. Taking her in her arms and flying her up to safety.

“You were flying, and you were carrying me.”

Lena determined to protect Kara as they both face Mercy inside L Corp. They somehow managed to avoid the rain of bullets from the intruders and are now trapped in the labs with the armed enemy. But Lena’s armed too. She’l protect Kara, who seems eager to leave, which confuses Lena, she’s seen Kara square up to people before, especially to stand up for Lena. But she let’s her leave, she’ll be safer anyway. And then Supergirl is there, neutralizing Mercy in the blink of an eye.

“The Luthor name doesn’t deserve Lena.”

A half machine half man monstrosity trying to storm her newly rebranded company. She, braving an attempt at defense. An enormous metallic representation of said rebranding flying towards her, promising a sure, painful and fast death. She, bracing for the impact that never comes. Looking through her hands to see the Girl of Steel stumbling from the force of protecting Lena from it.

“Get out of here.”

She confronting Edge, who poisoned children in an attempt at getting back to Lena. She almost going through with killing him. Instead getting knocked out and strapped onto a doomed plane. Not only is she going to die, all her work to be good would be erased, her reputation. But, once more, it doesn’t come.

“No, I’m not going to drop you!”

Kara, sweet and dorky, suddenly stony facing Detective Sawyer, who’s come to take Lena into custody. Conviction in her blue eyes, sure of Lena’s innocence. Willing to face off with her sister’s girlfriend over it. Lena shocked at the protective display.

“Hold on, Maggie. Slow down. Just, let her explain.”

Supergirl trying to warn her of her mother’s terrorist endeavors. Not as in warning Lena to stir clear of it. Not as in warning her that she’s being watched. But as if to telling her to be careful, that she may be in danger. As if telling her Supergirl herself will protect her, if she’d let her.

“Be your own hero.”

She deliberatedly jumping off a cliff, after facing off with a terrorist organization. Pushing the buttom on the watch Kara gave her, to protect her, alway. With not a trace of doubt in her system that Kara would come to her rescue. Feeling the power of the lasers coming out of Kara’s eyes.

“What was that?”

Lena falling from her office balcony, thinking of her fear of heights, her fear of flying. Thinking of Kara listening to her falling to her death after a couple of her mother’s goons accidentally toppled her. Clutching to Kara’s voice as the last thing she hears. Until arms of steel catch her and making it feel like falling onto a cloud. Freezing breath rushing past her face, and still feeling warm.

“Dropped something?”

“I was having coffee with Kara Danvers.”

Lena, flanked by the Danvers Sisters coming into a dream realm to confront Sam’s demons. A monster wearing Sam’s face attacking them, lifting Lena by the neck, threateing to break it.

“Let her go! Take me, take me instead, please!”

Being kidnapped onto an alien ship. And invader alien ship. Almost forced to get married, to Kara’s boyfriend, no less. Getting rescued by Supergirl. Joining forces with her mom, who had previously joined forces with Supergirl, both putting their difference aside to save Lena. Creating a device that would eradicate the invading threat, but that included Kara’s love. Kara, devastated, but reassuring Lena that it was not her fault, that she did what she had to.

“Lena, you helped Supergirl save the world.”

Kidnapped by her mother, after being framed. Used to get to Lex’s arsenal of anti-alien weaponry. Supergirl crashing the site, knowingly risking her safety with Lilian, Metallo and Cyborg Superman surrounded by weapons designed to defeat a Kryptonian. Supergirl on her knees, in pain. Warning them of the risk of Metallo’s unstable kryptonite’s core. A potential explosion that could kill her. And still staying to carry Lena out of there, just in the nick of time.

“Kara Danvers believes in you.”

“You’re good, Lena.”

“So, my office is overflown with flowers.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

“I’ve never had friends like you.”

“I trust you.”

“Supergirl might have saved me. But you, Kara Danvers, you are my hero.”

Lena’s gasping, just now realizes she’s crying. What have I done? But there’s no time to think about it further. A crash coming from her balcony captures her attention, and she stands, drink still in hand, tears still rolling down her face. Supergirl struggles to keep upright: she’s pale, panting. Her eyes, as wild as her hair, searching her surroundings, until they find Lena. And it’s palpable how the relief fills Kara. Her shoulders sag and her eyes close.

“Lena.”

But Lena has not gotten over Supergirl, Kara’s state. And then she sees her hands. There’s blood and bruises there. There’s blood on Kara’s hands. Lena can’t take her eyes of the damaged limbs. She takes a couple of steps towards the hero.

“You’re bleeding.”

Kara seems to not have heard her. She looks at Myriad and lingers there. As if she’s trying to see through it. But can’t. She’s helping herself stay standing by bracing one shoulder on the balcony door. Turns to Lena again.

“Please, Lena. Don’t do this. Please.”

“Kara, you’re bleeding.”

“If you do this, Lena, if you do this there’s no going back.”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“Not like, for humanity. We’d be able to fix that. We’ve done it before. With Myriad. But for you, Lena. You’ll be devastated when your anger subsides.”

“Kara.”

“Please, Lena, you’ve worked so hard to leave your family’s bad name behind. It’ll be so much harder to come back if you do this.”

“Kara, stop.”

“No, no. You gotta listen. You can’t do this! It will hurt you!”

“Kara. You are bleeding!”

“What?” And finally, she looks down. At her hands. “Oh.”

Lena closes the distance between them. Takes Kara’s hands in hers. Inspects the damage. Her mind racing to understand what she’s seeing. Kara is Supergirl, she should not be bleeding. Now Lena can see that Kara is also shivering. From exertion or cold, Lena isn’t sure. Both, maybe. She’s still catching her breath.

“You punched your way out.” She says this and looks up at Kara’s face, she knows her eyes are wide with shock and her mouth is, too. A little. Lilian would be appalled. “Kara, why? The trap would have turned off in a couple of hours. I would never...”

“I know. I know but... it was so tight in there.”

“Tight?”

“The space was so small.”

“Oh. Oh! You’re... Are you claustrophobic?” Oh, no. No.

Kara shrugs, looks sideways at the desk. At Myriad. But she’s not trying to contain Lena, to restrain her. She’s not rushing to take Myriad, either. She’s trusting Lena to do listen, to do what’s right.

“Why? Kara why didn’t you... I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I would have. I would’ve not put you in there,”

“We both did things. Lena, I promise. I’ve only lied about my secret identity. And I know there’s no excuse, but I have plenty. And I’ll tell you all of them when you’re ready to hear them. But, please, you have to believe me: I never lied about us. I swear I was not using you. You must believe me, Lena, please!”

“I think I do, now. I’m... I’m still hurt and angry. But, I know. I realize you didn’t need to work so hard on protecting me. From experience, I know that masks fall faster than that. I was just... Hearing i from Lex, while I killed him was overpowering.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I gave him the chance to take that away from us. I’m sorry that yet again I was robbed of the opportunity to tell someone I love. And that it gave him such a way to hurt you. I’m sorry that it made you feel used and unloved. I love you Lena. I love you.”

Lena’s vision is blurry with tears. And it gets worse when Kara’s words paint a smile on Lena’s face. At some point she has dragged Kara to the couch, have them both sat down, and she’s yet to let go of the hero’s bruised hands.

“You do?”

“I do. Of course I do. I love you. I’d say it as much as you’d need.”

“Hold on.”

Lena stands despite Kara’s throughly confused expression. She raches for the first aid kit in the bathroom and sits back next to Kara. Starts tending to the wonds, a little worried that hey don’t seem to be healing by themselves. But not wanting to draw attention to it. Kara watches her work in silence, with the occasional flinch or hiss of pain.

“You may want to reconsider your offer. I don’t think I’ll ever tired of you saying it.”

Kara looks lost for a second, until her face clears of all confusion. She smiles.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m going to have to work on myself and my issues, though. Before we can really start to explore our relationship. In whichever form you’re willing to have it.”

“I’ll have to work on my issues, too. And we’ll work together on our relationship. I’ll have whatever you’rewilling to give me.”

And Lena almost says I’ll give you everything out loud. She finishes up tending to Kara’s wounds. And sighs.

“When should I expect the DEO to come and get me?” Kara frowns at her.

“Why would they come and get you?”

“I imagine Alex wants my head after wha I did?”

“Ales doesn’t know.” But Lena’s is too shocked to respond. “We’ll go and stop everything about the Non Nocere project. You’ll get Hope out of Eve, and we’ll deliver her to the authorities. Then we’ll all work together to stop Leviathan. Then, maybe after we worked through our stuff anough, we can tell the story as a funny story.”

“There’s not one funny thing about what’s happened.” Lena deadpans, because...

“I’m sure I can make it funny. I’m charming like that.” And Lena loves her cocky side. Lena loves all of her sides, she’s come to realize.

“Yes, you’re hilarious.”

Kara’s phone goes off before she can sass back and Lena can hear Alex voice through the speaker.

“Kara, finally. I was getting worried I couldn’t reach you or Lena.”

“We’re ok.” She says while holding her eyes to Lena’s. “I told her.” There’s a sigh on the other end of the call. Not dissapointed, nor angry. Just a sigh.

“Ok. I know you’ve wanted to tell her for a while. And I know you feel like your secret affects more than just you, Kara. But it’s ultimately yours to share. We’ve all have done it for you enough times. I also know you’re worried about the DEO trapping Lena with the excuse of confidentiality. But I promise you I won’t let that happen. How did she take it?”

“Well... I mean, she’s hurt. And I think we’re goin to have to work that out. But...” She let’s the sentence hang for a second, looking at Lena, who nods. “But, we’ll be all right.”

“I know you guys will. Now, enough sentimentality. What about the plan?”

“We found Eve, we’re about to intercept her and bringing her into cosudy. Then we can start working on the rest of the bad guys.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you guys soon. Would you need back-up?”

“No, we’ve got it.” She ends the call and stands, walking towards the balcony. Lena stays put, an eyebrow lifting in amussement.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get Eve? Hope? Both?”

“We’re not flying, Kara. You can barely walk.” She can see Kara about to argue, so she activates the portal and gestures to it, expectantly.  “Shall we?”

“Show-off.” Kara grumbles as she walks through it and Lena and her laugh follow her. Yes, they’ll be all right.

[momentofmemory]

FICTOBER 2020 - day four

Prompt #4: “That didn’t stop you before.”

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Characters: May Parker, Tony Stark, Peter Parker (mentioned)

Words: 1809

Author’s Note: May and Tony will get along one day, but it’s going to be a rough ride, and neither of them are going to like the journey. Set immediately post HOCO, May POV. Possibly the first in a series. 

>> eight feet and we started on the wrong one

It takes May two-and-a-half hours to drive from her apartment in Queens to the new Avengers facility in Upstate.

Spider-Man’s suit—Peter’s suit—sits hidden in a brown paper bag in the passenger’s seat, looking for all the world like one of the packed lunches Ben would make for Peter in elementary school. Peter’s old enough that he can make his own lunches now, though, so he hasn’t had one since—since.

Ben would be disappointed in her if he knew.

Peter’s still at home, both because he’s very, very grounded, and because she’s about to have a conversation she doesn’t want him anywhere near. Super hearing is apparently among her nephew’s multitude of powers, and considering he’d claimed to hear a heartbeat from across the room, she’s pretty sure there’s not building in all of New York large enough to give her the privacy she needs.

She’s going to be much, much louder than a heartbeat.

The Compound looms in the distance, and she does her best to feel as unflappable as she looks as she approaches the security entrance.

Two-and-a-half hours had felt like a lot of time when she’d pulled the address up on Maps, but all she’s conjured in terms of an attack plan is a losing battle between righteous anger and overwhelming guilt.

She pulls to a stop in front of the tall metal gates, hyper aware of all the doubtlessly lethal security that’s surrounding her. There’s a moment of silence, then a bored voice broadcasts over one of the speakers.

“This facility is for Avengers or cleared personnel only. Please present a valid ID or contact our PR representative to state your business—”

May pulls the suit out of the bag and lets it unfurl out the window, making sure the red and blue spandex is in plain view of the cameras.

She waits.

The intercom crackles back to life, and a new, much more cautious voice addresses her. “…Thank you for coming, Ms. Parker. Your security clearance has been added to the system. Please proceed to the front entrance where Mr. Hogan can assist you—”

“Stark,” May says. The knuckles on her right hand turn white against the steering wheel. “Mr. Stark will be meeting with me.”

Another long, drawn out pause. Then a third voice enters the mix, and this time, she’s able to identify the perpetually-confident speaker on the other side.

“Thanks for stopping by, May. I’d be happy to meet with you.”

May squashes down the thrill of anxiety and rage that fills her at the sound of him as the first voice takes back over. 

“Please proceed through the gate down the center lane. At the first fork in the road, turn left. This will lead you directly to the Avengers parking deck, where you will park on row E and take the south elevator to floor 7. An employee will meet you in the landing area to take you to Mr. Stark’s office.”

“Thank you,” May says, cheerfully, as if she’s given entry instructions to highly secured bases every day.

She can’t afford to appear nervous, so she aims for unconcerned—even if it makes her look a little ditzy.

Being underestimated is always an advantage.

The red lasers crossing the path blink twice before disappearing altogether, and then the heavy steel gates swing open at a belabored pace.

She pulls the suit back into the car and drives forward. In the privacy of her own thoughts, she tries not to dwell on how she’s just earned herself a one-on-one with arguably the most powerful man in the world.

(The most powerful man in the world who’s had near total access to her kid for the last two months, who offered to have him live somewhere else, who was going to tell the whole world his secret before he told her—)

Her stomach twists angrily.

(At least, she tells herself it’s anger.)

She drives into the deck and parks the car.

The suit is still lying in the passenger’s seat. May considers it, then carefully folds it back up and slips it into the bag. Then she steps out of the car and locks the door, leaving it inside.

It may have been Stark technology, but it was Parker property now.

The woman that meets her inside the building doesn’t say much, spending most of their shared time scanning her past enough security to let May know there was no way of getting in or out without their approval. She’s not sure if it’s an intimidation tactic or just the way things work here.

She adds it to the list of the many things she doesn’t know, and sits down in a chair outside of Tony Stark’s office to wait.

The conversation between her and Peter had been a very, very long one, and a very, very emotional one. She hasn’t processed any of it yet, because every time she tries, her brain stalls out on the fact that Peter’s story has enough holes in it to masquerade as one of Ben’s old socks. In fact, the only thing consistently more disturbing than all the danger he’d been in was all the times he couldn’t tell her why he was in danger to begin with.

The man at the desk hangs up the phone and waves in her direction. “Mr. Stark will see you now, Ms. Parker.”

“Mrs. Parker,” May says, because it hasn’t even been a year yet.

The secretary doesn’t seem to care either way, but the finer points of naming etiquette aren’t why May’s here anyway.

It’s time to get some answers.

Stark practically leaps out of his chair when she walks in, radiating enough charm to power a small light show, but with a clear undercurrent of nerves that belies his confidence.

“Well, if it isn’t May Parker,” he says, entirely smiles, “looking as fine as ever.”

Just like that, the anxiety she’s been masking as anger all day morphs into nothing but pure anger.

“What the hell, Stark.”

It’s not the careful or naive approach she’d originally envisioned, and his jovial expression vanishes as quickly as her goodwill had. “Now wait, I know you’re a little upset, but—”

“A little upset?”

“Okay, a lot upset,” he concedes. “That’s just ‘cause it’s a lot to take in, but if we just take a minute—”

“Stark,” May interrupts, her fists curling tight enough to dig crescent moons into her skin, “it’s not a lot to take in because I don’t have anything yet.”

Stark blinks. “You don’t—you talked to the kid, right? That’s how you got the suit?”

It’s the genuine confusion that riles May—that Stark hasn’t even considered how little he’s told Peter, and therefore, how little Peter could’ve told her.

“I talked to Peter,” she says, and Stark’s eyes narrow further, “and he said he fought Captain America. Couldn’t say why.”

It’s a low blow—most of the chatter on the Avengers’ split agrees that the falling out was mostly between its two heads—but May’s already at a disadvantage, and she can’t afford to play fair on a field that’s not level.

Stark stares at her, but May doesn’t make a move. Then he walks back behind his desk, and sits in the chair, propping his feet up. “What happened between me and Cap was personal, May.”

“I don’t care about your bro fight, Tony.” If he’s going to call her by her first name, then she should return in kind. “It’s none of my business, because I’m not involved. And Peter wasn’t, either, until you dragged him into it.”

Stark has the decency to grimace. “We hadn’t escalated anything at that point, I swear. Peter was never in danger—”

“It’d escalated to the point where you were so scared you thought recruiting a fourteen-year-old boy you’d never met was a good option.”

Stark looks away at that. “Look, maybe I rushed it a little. But Pete’s a good kid, and he was gonna get involved in bigger stuff one way or another. Did you not see that little onesie he was running around in? Before I got to him? I’m protecting him.”

(Like you didn’t.)

“Yeah?” May snaps. “So what else have you done? Did you have him sign the Accords? Is there some pencil pushing government official that knows more about my kid than I do?”

“No, he’s just a minor—”

“Oh, you care about him being a minor now,” May says. “‘Cause that didn’t stop you before.”

Tony’s eyes flash. "Listen, honey—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“—it’s real rich of you to play the concerned aunt when you didn’t bat an eye at my asking him to come along in the first place. You’re the one that let your kid fly to Germany for a scholarship you never looked twice at—”

“How dare you assume what I looked at—”

“—and you’re the one that consented to let me talk to him in the first place—”

“So you agree that asking to talk to a minor, alone, about highly confidential information was way out of line?”

“—and you’re the super involved aunt that’s decided for some reason to just ignore all your kid’s weird behavior for the past six months, including but not limited to sneaking out of the house at all hours, dropping almost all of his extracurriculars, consistently lying about his location, and—”

“His uncle died!”

Her outburst stops his tirade in its tracks, but it’s not the silver bullet she wanted, because it’s too vulnerable; too close. And she knows she’s treading dangerous ground, knows she shouldn’t continue when the balance of power is so strongly weighted against her, but now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

“His uncle died, and he thinks it was his fault,” she says. “And hell, what do I know. Maybe it really was. But that is not the kind of mindset that prepares anyone, let alone a fourteen-year-old boy, to make informed decisions about who he trusts. Maybe we got really lucky this time, and you really are that great for him. ‘Cause as you’ve so eloquently proven, I clearly wasn’t.”

May pauses, taking in a breath, while Tony shifts uncomfortably. But he doesn’t try to interrupt.

"So what happens,” she finally says, “the next time some guy comes along with a nice smile and a cool costume, and tells him it’s totally okay to lie to the people responsible for him.”

Tony watches her for a moment, and she watches him right back. He reaches over and flicks the Newton’s Cradle on his desk into motion, then sighs.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Fair enough.”

He gestures towards the chair opposite him, and this time, May accepts it.

He clears his throat. “So what do you want from me.”

“The truth,” May says, unflinchingly. “All of it.”

“Okay.”

[queerpyracy]

PORTLAND, Ore. — Angela Foster started showing up in the early days of the protests in Portland as one of the novice activists standing off to the side with no gear to protect herself.

Roughly 40 demonstrations later, she has moved toward the front, wearing a mask, goggles and a helmet, and bracing for law enforcement officers to charge at her.

“We’re not leaving,” Ms. Foster said in interview on Sunday.

While President Trump on Sunday described the unrest in Portland as a national threat involving “anarchists and agitators,” the protests have featured a wide array of demonstrators, many now galvanized by federal officers exemplifying the militarized enforcement that protesters have long denounced. Gatherings over the weekend grew to upward of 1,000 people, some of the largest crowds in weeks.

Some protesters have exhibited the lawless behavior that federal officials have cited to justify their crackdown: Some have thrown cans and bottles, shot fireworks or pointed lasers at officers. One was recently accused of hitting a federal officer with a hammer. On Saturday, protesters set a fire in the police union headquarters.

But others have demonstrated in the streets through peaceful means, appalled by the aggressive responses by federal officers that have left some protesters injured and the air inflamed with tear gas. They have held signs and marched. At times when people have thrown bottles, other demonstrators have rushed to try to stop them. On Saturday, a group of women locked arms and chanted: “Feds stay clear. Moms are here.”

Attending a protest for the first time over the weekend was Christopher David, a Navy veteran and a 1988 graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy. He said that, as a Navy veteran, he felt the need to confront the federal officers to ask, Why were they violating their oath to the Constitution?

But as Mr. David went to do just that late Saturday, he didn’t get a conversation. Instead, as Mr. David stood still, according to video of the encounter, a federal officer dressed in camouflage fatigues began hitting him with his baton before another doused him in pepper spray.

Mr. David said in an interview on Sunday that he needed to have surgery on his hand.

Luis Enrique Marquez, a self-described anti-fascist who has been a fixture at protests in Portland for years, said the purpose of the federal officers’ arrival had appeared to be to scare the protesters. But he said the officers had instead galvanized them by displaying the types of actions that have concerned protesters for years.

“With every act of violence they commit, our numbers seem to grow, people seem to get more angry,” Mr. Marquez said.

Demonstrators in Portland, including some who identify as antifa, the loose coalition of self-described anti-fascist activists, have had years of conflict with law enforcement. But after the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis set off a nationwide movement for racial justice and police accountability, the protest in Portland drew thousands to the streets.

That created powerful scenes including images of protesters blanketing the Burnside Bridge, each lying face down on the pavement for eight minutes and 46 seconds in remembrance of Mr. Floyd.

While those initial mass crowds have waned, hundreds of protesters have continued on with near-nightly confrontations with law enforcement.

Unlike demonstrators in Seattle at the Capitol Hill Organized Protest, or CHOP, in which they established a permanent location that created tensions over how the police should handle unrest inside the area, protesters in Portland have brought the same feel of communal support throughout the downtown area. Volunteers wearing red crosses hand out ear plugs, eye wash and hand sanitizer. A mobile snack van provides Gatorade and food.

Jeremy Vajko, who operates the snack van, said he initially operated in the CHOP zone in Seattle and then came to Portland to support the people on the streets.

“I noticed there was problems with nutrition,” he said. “People are sleep deprived.”

During the daytime, the protests can draw families, businesspeople and political leaders such as Jo Ann Hardesty, a city commissioner. At night, the crowd is made up mostly of young people. Dozens of protesters at the front carry homemade shields made out of materials such as 55-gallon drums. Others stand farther back, shining lasers or gathering materials for building barricades.

But protesters’ tactics have strained the city. Business owners, already struggling because of the coronavirus pandemic, have cited the protests as a reason residents have been staying away from downtown. Some leaders in the Black community have also questioned the tactics, suggesting that some demonstrators have seized the moment in the aftermath of Mr. Floyd’s killing to advance their own causes.

Last month, officers from the Portland Police Bureau repeatedly fired tear gas and made arrests of protesters, who have variously called for the abolishment or defunding of the bureau, and for more accountability for law enforcement officers. The city’s officers now operate with new limits on the use of tear gas after a judge ordered it to only be used if it’s needed to keep people safe.

Protesters have focused much of their attention on Mayor Ted Wheeler, who also serves as police commissioner. Crowds have at times gathered late at night outside Mr. Wheeler’s condo building, shining lights and chanting about the perceived failures of his administration.

For weeks, Mr. Wheeler has called for an end to destructive demonstrations, saying he is concerned about “groups who continue to perpetrate violence and vandalism on our streets.” But as federal agencies have moved in to play a role in combating the unrest, Mr. Wheeler has said he told the federal officials to stay away.

City police leaders have said they are not coordinating with federal agencies on the protests. But at one point early Saturday morning, a line of federal officers was moving up one street while a line of local police officers was moving up another, both advancing to keep protesters on the move. It was unclear what level of coordination was involved in that effort.

Mr. Trump said in a Twitter post on Sunday that federal officials were “trying to help Portland, not hurt it.” Mr. Trump, who has said states need to “dominate” protesters, said Portland officials had lost control.

“They are missing in action,” Mr. Trump wrote. “We must protect Federal property, AND OUR PEOPLE.”

Local leaders have grown increasingly vocal in opposition to the federal presence after one protester appeared to have been shot in the head with what was described as a less-lethal munition, severely injuring him in a bloody scene that was captured on video. Federal officers have operated from unmarked vans, at times seizing protesters and pulling them into the vehicles.

Joel B. Barker, who runs a marketing agency, said that he had frequently participated in protests during the day near the Justice Center, which includes the county jail, and that he usually left before 9 p.m. at the latest. He said that the protests drew a diverse crowd, reflecting a range of racial backgrounds, age and socioeconomic statuses, and that there was a sense of unity.

He lives about a mile away, and the demonstrations have not had any repercussions close to his home. The demonstrators, he said, were largely peaceful and not there to foment disorder.

Mr. Barker said he felt rage that the city was being used for what he believed was a ploy for the president in an election year.

“It’s really terrible,” he added, “and I want America to understand how terrible it is to feel like a city you love is being occupied by your own federal government, because that’s how it feels.”

Oregon’s attorney general, Ellen Rosenblum, has filed a lawsuit seeking to halt some of the detainment tactics used by federal officers. Her office has also opened a criminal investigation into the case of the protester who sustained a head injury.

Lisa Reynolds, a pediatrician who is running as a Democrat for a seat in the Oregon House of Representatives, said she had tried to keep her distance from the protests, largely because of the coronavirus crisis. But on Sunday, she said, she was going to be fitted for a respirator so she would be safer at protests where tear gas is used.

“I think my fear kept me away,” she said. “I think this is a step where I need to put myself out there a little more.”

Sergio Olmos reported from Portland, Rick Rojas from Atlanta and Mike Baker from Seattle. John Ismay contributed reporting from Arlington, Va.

[the-mic-drop]

Class 1-A Cypher by Rustage

Lyrics below the cut

Izuku Midoriya - Deku (Performed by Rustage)

Call me Deku, I’m starting out on this cypher

I was quirkless, but by working I’m deserving something higher

It’s my purpose, I’m versing my present, future, and my past

So I’m gonna rock the mic with a Detroit Smash

Taking a second, I’m breaking my limit

Hitting with everything, pain I can feel it

I’m straining my muscles, I tussle with enemies

Better be ready, I’m more than a critic

I spit it, exhibit it all night

I’m killing it, chilling with All-Might

A villain inhibited by my ability

in minutes you’re watching my school fight

Fumikage Tokoyami - Tsukuyomi (Performed by Shwabadi)

When you cross this bird, you might get to see me wield the talons

So absurd how I’m applying subverse talents

Yes I’m cursed, carry a demon, I’m full of malice

Even worse for you when striking a bitter balance

Dark claws harming the vermin that are below me

Start wars, armed with determination and Oni

Get back, I’ve been endangering those who know me

Jet Black Hero, they’re calling me Tsukuyomi

Ochaco Uraraka - Uravity (Performed by DaisyBanaisy)

I’ll make you float as I’m messing with zero gravity

Don’t mean to gloat when I’m calculating these strategies

Rapidly climbing casually, my quirk “lacks in lethality”

but actually your apathy will lead straight to your casualty

I’ll happily fight for justice, with all of my capacity

My motive’s money, thankfully that don’t define morality

Reality is I’m just helping others for my family

I’m saving all humanity, don’t you mess with Uravity!

Tenya Iida - Ingenium (Performed by Dan Bull)

I’ve got many a twitch, that’s the Tenya itch

I’m like my test scores, I got plenty of tics

Academic, educated, but I never skip leg day

Still regretful of the day that I met Stain

Enraged, by what he did to my brother Tensei

I didn’t handle it the best way, I dare say

Left my hand damaged in remembrance of fair play

I’m representing Class 1-A, they’re my best mates

Tsuyu Asui - Froppy (Performed by Sophia Dere)

Ribbit Ribbit, exhibit a hero’s spirit

I’m in it and so I’ll win it

When I’m swimming, yeah I won’t stop

This frog’s idyllic not a gimmick in a minute

I be launching in to kill it

Like a frog, I’m bringing mad hops

My tongue’s deadly, spitting and I take charge

and then I’m turning invisible with my camoflage

In the water, no villain can dare to stop me

You’re looking sloppy, now you’re facing Froppy

Hanta Sero - Cellophane (Performed by VideoGameRapBattles)

Lucky 13 of the A-1 team

Kid I spit great mixtapes, stick your team

Wraps so clean,

and I’m sealing all the matches now that Cellophane will bring the pain all wrapped up in a package

Getting shipped with tons of damage, but there’s no send backs

Shut you up with my bind attacks

Get back, ‘cause you know that I’ll be winning

in this sticky situation, so I think you better stick it.

Mezo Shoji - Tentacole (Performed by Dreaded Yasuke)

You can call me wall that have ears, door that have eyes

Meaning I’m cavalier when it comes to fighting just like a spy

In close combat, my dupli-arms is coming for the harm

and I’m laughing at you if you’re trying disarm

I’ll sacrifice for everybody exhausting my quirk

Even when I’m down for the count, I’m disguising my smirk

You can cut off all of my limbs, I’m still coming in a burst

Class 1-A will always come first

Kyoka Jiro - Earphone Jack (Performed by Savvy Hyuga)

It’s ya edgy girl, Earphone Jack

Utilizing my quirk in both stealth and combat

I guess I can see how you think I fell flat

but lemme show you how I make up for that

with punk rock attacks

When my earlobes are growing

you know they whippin and probin

an’ now they got you tip-toeing

findin the range that my tone is

It’s not your typical motion n my moves don’t need compression

It’s just another jam session featuring my form of expression

Denki Kaminari - Chargebolt (Performed by Dizzy Eight)

It’s time to put in work, I got this cypher on lock

I don’t need my quirk when this verse will leave you shocked

Like a battery, I got the juice, so they put me in a box

When my positive means negative, I’m like “so watt?”

You don’t want that static with me homie it’s fatal

I got so much energy, I’m plugged in without the cable

On the low, I’ll leave everybody on the scene disabled

I’m underrated, but in a flash, I’ll leave you endangered

Shoto Todoroki - Shoto (Performed by None Like Joshua)

It’s Todoroki, I chose to be cold and lonely

Nobody can hold me with the inferno, I’m overloading

From a broken home to known hero I’m going up slowly but surely

and be better than Endeavor whether it’s hot or it’s snowing

Even if I’m behind, I’ll be sure to make Bakugo see

I do it for All of his Might or to stop killer Stain, forget any trophy

So now that you’re immobilized and then frozen in pain, no one can approach me

Put up a wall of my ice or a wall of my flames to build your enclosing

Rikido Sato - Sugarman (Performed by GameboyJones)

Give me 10 grams of white, then I’m activated (um)

Wait, I’m talking ‘bout the sugar that I took

Got a sweet tooth for taking out these villains ‘cause they’re agitating

Plus the girlies like a guy that can cook

Call me Sato the Macho, I’m saving these streets

Yeah these nachos are not yours, I need me a treat

and this crime fighting’s hard work, it can leave me beat

but like candy and cakes, being me is real sweet

Mina Ashido - Pinky (Performed by StarGirl)

The corrosive caped crusader, Pinky here to save the day

and end up taking center stage upon these lyrics that I lay up

Easygoing, I’m passionate in battle, I’m not passive

See it flowing I don’t spit fire, I spit acid

Hypnotic fashion sense, I leave you in a trance

I’m good at fighting, my other skills are in dance

Protect my friends, we’re going in on advance

Mina Ashido, you don’t even stand a chance

Eijiro Kirishima - Red Riot (Performed by NerdOut)

Kirishima’s here, everybody stand down

I’mma activate a quirk and give your chest a hand pound

With these Red Gun Turrets yeah the target is locked

I’m a boulder with a boner, man I’m hard as a rock

I’m unbreakable, cannot penetrate this armor

and I don’t need a little blue pill to get harder

I’m full of energy, enemies looking dead tired

Blood running in the street, you can call it Red Riot

Koji Koda - Anima (Performed by Connor Rapper)

I’m the quiet type, lying with the wildlife

When I’m on, you wouldn’t even need subtitle lines

Nervous around others, I’m the last one who would yell loud

But to be a hero, then I need to break the shell now

Yo it’s Koda bringing massive noise, flowing with that Ani-Voice

That timid kid with rabbit toys no longer acting coy

Drinking honey tea, facing my fear of bugs and bees

Get a bull stampeding with the words like I’m Douglby

Yuga Aoyama - Can’t Stop Twinkling (Performed by Zach Boucher)

Never needed fame or money, I can get it later

Even though it hurts my tummy, when I use my navel laser

I have got finesse, snazzier than all the rest

I’m the best, nothing less

being honest, not a flex, I’m a threat

It’s getting harder to stomach, I’ve got the smarts and I love

I’m certainly perfect, it hurts just like the art of seduction

Heart of a Puma, get ready to lose

I’ll be spreading the truth

and y’all are stupid if you choose to fight against the Yuga

Momo Yaoyorozu - Creati (Performed by HalaCG)

I’ve got the quirk creation and patience to work it

Balancing equations, don’t even need to research it

Sequencing elements, a testament to intelligence

You’d better watch out ‘cause I’m not feeling very benevolent

If a person’s in trouble, just wait and see what I’ll do

I can literally make anything. Overpowered, who?

Overpowered, who?

I meant I’ll overpower you

It’s true, sincerely Class 1-A’s Momo Yaoyorozu

Minoru Mineta - Grape Juice (Performed by Nux Taku)

Where the ladies at? (ay)

Where the ladies at? (ay)

Mineta’s here to peek at women that I’m gazing at

People thinking that I’m weak, but you know what I say to that

Leave you in a sticky situation with my grape attacks

Underestimating me? You’re lacking information

Incapacitation, when you’re facing me, frustration

Master of flirtation, pretty much the top dog

You ain’t ever coming close when I pop off

Ojiro Mashirao - Tailman (Performed by Rockit Gaming)

Ojiro, the Tailman, you get what you train for

Master martial artist, black belt on my waist though

Nobody even really understands me

Got intelligence, can’t predict any hit that I’m landing

Classmate you confide in with dignity

You can wear a costume, all I got on is a gi

Noble attitude, that’s my personality

Accept results that I earn with my own abilities

Toru Hagakure - Invisible Girl (Performed by Outcast Rae)

Take you by surprise, yeah, I can do it easy

Miss me with your eyes, yeah, you can’t even see me

No matter what you try, yeah, you can never beat me

Feels a little cheesy, like a wish from a genie

When it comes to action, my quirk is in light refraction

so it has the side effect of never being a distraction

Sneak up on my enemies, let me be the best assassin

Toru Hagakure, you can feel my passion

Katsuki Bakugo - Kacchan (Performed by DaddyPhatSnaps)

I don’t think you other heroes are even listenin’

Maybe I should focus your attention with some ‘glycerin

You don’t even get it, there’s really no competition

I’m lighting these rookies up, boi, I’m slaying on every mission

I’ll show them once and for all, little Deku won’t know what hit ‘im

I will get the recognition, exploding the opposition

I will be the greatest hero that ever took the position

So come at me little bitches, I’ll make you wish that you didn’t

[lxaah11]

Why’s It Always Crystals? - Part 2 (ST:D x The Inhumans crossover)

Chris’ breath forcefully left his body as he slammed into the crevice wall with a loud crack, he had only been falling for a few seconds but he had already resigned himself to the world of pain he just knew he’d find himself in when he hit the bottom. At least he hoped that was what awaited him. The only other alternative he could imagine is dying on impact and, after everything he’d managed to live through, he really didn’t want the thing that killed him to be him losing his damn footing. He could still hear Burnham’s panicked voice echoing all around him, following him down into the darkness, yet he couldn’t quite process exactly what it was she was saying. The adrenaline coursing through his veins had forced his brain to filter out any extraneous sounds and, apparently, Michael fell under that remit. Not that it mattered anyway, he hadn’t yet been able to get his breath back and it felt like he wouldn’t for a while, so he wouldn’t have had a chance in hell of answering her. 

The crack he had fallen down was narrow enough that once he had hit the wall he stayed against it, his back scraping along the jagged surface of the wall taking the skin off as he fell. After a few more moments of free fall he, strangely enough, felt himself slowing down. Don’t get him wrong, he still felt like he had left his stomach up at the top with Burnham and saw no sign of the bottom of this pit, but he was definitely not falling as fast as he had been. The reason for this was not immediately clear if anything it had only become more baffling, as the wall he was sliding down appeared to smooth out the further down he went. It was only when he reached the bottom that he figured it out. The wall, which had been completely vertical when he first started falling, in fact, started sloping out near the bottom and continued to do so until it had become perfectly horizontal. It reminded him of an old playground ride he had only ever seen pictures of - a drop slide, he believed it was called. Affectionately nicknamed a ‘death slide’, and after what he had just experienced he could definitely see why. However, unlike those rides, this version did not have a long flat section for him to decelerate and, instead, stopped rather abruptly. He catapulted off the end and was sent skipping like a stone across the lake of water that had caused this natural phenomenon, before plunging into its icy depths.

With his lungs begging for the oxygen that they had been deprived of, he kicked towards the surface and found that the water was only a few feet deeper than he was tall. He swam over to the opening that he was shot out of, as he moved closer the water became shallower, allowing him to stand with his shoulders above the water as he called up to Michael, who was still shouting down after him.

 “I’m OK. Nothing broken at least.” He added with a chuckle.

“Sir?” A sigh of relief. “What’s down there? Can you see a way back up?”

Miraculously, the lights on his EV suit still worked. He observed the new cave that surrounded him, it didn’t look too different from the others he had just left. All he could see was a narrow tunnel branching off, carrying a ravine further into the rock, but nothing that indicated a way of returning to Burnham. He relayed this information back to her, hoping she’d be able to come up with a solution but also fully prepared to order her to carry on with the mission without him as he tried to make his own way to the surface.

“Captain, I have rappelling gear in my pack but the only anchor point up here doesn’t seem to be strong enough to support your weight, it will just crumble.”

“It’s ok Burnham, you carry on along the path. I’ll stay down here and- “

“With all due respect Captain,” Burnham interrupted showing no said respect, “I believe it best we stick together. We still don’t know anything about this energy source and these tunnels are treacherous, if we split up and one of us gets in danger then it could be lethal.”

Knowing she had a point, but not seeing another way Pike could only respond, “Well then, what would you suggest Commander?”

“The anchor is strong enough to support me, so I’ll make my way down to you-”

“No, Michael-”, Pike tried to interrupt when he realised what she was saying.

“-and we’ll carry on through the tunnel down there.”

“Michael, if you stay up there we know you can get out, you come down here and that is no longer the case. I wish there was another way but you have to leave me, that’s an order.”

There was a pause before Burnham’s voice echoed down to him again, “...I’m already on my way down sir.”

Pike could only sigh and contemplate how he really needed to start being less lenient with his officers, as it seemed to be a running theme that few of them listened to him in situations like this. He hopes that Burnham and Number One never meet, if they did he might as well resign his commission straight away, they would be unstoppable.

As he waited for Michael to reach him, he decided to try and scope out the tunnel that was now their only hope for escape. It was located at the point in the cave where the water was shallowest, only reaching his ankles, and was smaller than it seemed at first glance, just wider than himself and as tall as his waist, he could only cringe at the incoming pain that his back will inevitably feel. There was a scrape of boots over rock followed by a quiet splash as Burnham exited the crag and slipped into the water, she waded towards him and peered over his shoulder. Not even her years of living on Vulcan could help her hide the disgruntled sigh upon seeing the confined space they’d spend the next who knows how long making their way through. They shared a look before Chris, hopefully for the last time on this seemingly endless expedition, got down on his hands and knees and made his way into the tunnel with Michael joining him soon after. Only the sound of their breathing and the sloshing of the water, which wasn’t getting any shallower, could be heard - they both just wanted to get out and were too focused to try and attempt a meaningless conversation. For the first time since entering the caves they seemed to have caught a break, the tunnel seemed to be on a slightly upward trajectory and was hopefully taking them towards the surface. 

They’d been in the water for long enough that the cold had started to permeate through the suits thermal regulation system when they finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. He crawled with a renewed vigour, Michael following close behind, both eager to get back to Discovery or out of the caves at the very least. As he got closer the sound of running water began to echo around them, getting louder as they got closer until they finally reached the end. 

Pike once again found himself short of breath as he reached forward to continue to crawl and instead found that the ground was no longer where he expected and instead rapidly steepened to form another pool that he promptly, and rather ungracefully, fell into. Except this time the water was shallower than he was tall, it was only by sheer dumb luck that he didn’t whack his head on the rock below and instead landed flat on his back, adding to the already long list of reasons he isn’t going to be able to move tomorrow. He sat up, spluttering as he broke the surface only to be greeted with Michael chuckling as she contorted herself so she could enter feet first, having learnt from his mistake. Chris could only self-deprecatingly smile at her as she offered her hand to help him up, which he gratefully accepted. 

Having recovered from his unexpected swim, he was finally able to take in their new surroundings and he very quickly found the source of the light. His heart sank. A beam of light from the surface entered yet another cave through a gap in the ceiling, after which it bounced off the multitude of crystals that lined the edge of the pool, illuminating the darkness. Both Pike and Burnham looked around in awe, so distracted that they both startled when Tilly’s voice disturbed the quiet they had been in for what must have been hours.

  “Captain, Michael? I don’t know what you just did but the readings we’re getting have just got even larger and I didn’t think that was even possible. Is there anything new around you that looks like it could be the source?”

“We’ve ended up in a cavern full of crystals, Ensign, we’ll take a sample and bring it back to Discovery for further analysis. Can you get a transporter lock on us?”

“Affirmative Captain, we can be ready to beam you out at a moment's notice.” A pause. “Well, maybe a bit more than a moment, we are getting some slight interference - nothing to worry about but it’ll take a bit longer to actually get you out of there.”

“Thank you, Ensign, I’ll let you know when we need to beam out.” Pike replied, “With more than a moment's notice.” He added with a smile.

Burnham started to take some readings from the cave, to look for any sign as to what these crystals were and where they came from. As she did this Pike pulled out a laser cutter and knelt to take a sample, the moment he started cutting through the crystal is when things started going wrong. A white mist started to hiss out from the crystal, quickly beginning to fill the cave. As Pike staggered backwards trying to get away from the mist, Burnham’s scanner started going crazy.

“Captain, the readings I'm getting are showing that this gas is potentially toxic,” Burnham reported as she hit the button to activate her helmet. Pike went to follow suit, only to find that at some point during one of his numerous falls the mechanism had malfunctioned. By this point the mist had already filled over half the cave, it was being emitted faster than it could escape. Pike knew immediately he only had seconds, a minute maximum before there would be no clean air left to breathe.

Shaking his head at Burnham to try and convey his predicament he commed up to Discovery, “Ensign, I know I promised a moment’s notice but we need to beam out of here now.” He tried to keep his voice level but inside he was panicking. He had gotten out of so many sticky situations, come back after being hurt so many times but right now he couldn’t see a way out.

“We’re trying Captain but the interference has dramatically increased, we need more time.”

Pike didn’t reply.

The mist had filled the cave. Pike was holding his breath for as long as possible trying to give the Discovery crew as long as possible to get them out of there. But his lungs were burning. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Distantly he could hear a panicked Burnham communicating with Tilly, trying to get them out of here.

“Beam us up! We need to get out of here now, beam us - “

Pike breathed in.

[wendip-week]

Of Masks and Men: Part 4

Abel's eyes widened at the abrupt end to the moment he seemed to be having with his horticultural aunt and uncle. What Grunkle Mason had implied; he didn't like the sound of that. "W-what do you mean? What are you going to do with me?"

"It's just how it sounds, Abel. You know too much, and that, unfortunately, puts our entire race and secret-society at risk," Mason replied, a serious expression etched on the monster's face. "From Dana, to tourists, to the occasional paranormal-investigator looking to leave his mark in the world of science, one little slip-up could be the end of us."

"That means we're going to have to take drastic steps, I'm afraid," said Wendy, somberly shaking her head, a slight rustle sounding from the leaves in her red-hair. "One way or another, you can't be allowed to give us away."

Abel quickly replied, "I won't tell anyone. I swear!"

"First, we don't allow swearing in our house," the plant-woman said.

"And second," Mason continued, removing a rubber glove (one made to resemble a human-hand) and revealing a brown, wooden hand resembling the end of a tree-branch. "that's a chance we just can't take." The male Pistachion stretched out his exposed hand, which disassembled into vines and extended past his human nephew towards a nearby desk. To Abel, that would have been really cool in a movie. A moment later, he retracted it, carrying what looked an old-timey laser with a big light bulb.

He held it up for Abel to see. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

Abel stared a moment before a look of recognition crossed his face. "Wait a minute, isn't that one of those memory guns or something from the Journals?"

"Yes. This gun is designed to erase specific memories from the target. We could erase this entire afternoon from your brain. You wouldn't feel a thing, and by morning, it would seem like just another day."

"Well..." started Abel.

"There's just one problem, though," Wendy said, cutting the boy off. "There's a pretty high chance it might cause mental-issues, especially if you do that more than once. Not exactly something you might want; and nothing we really want to put up with. Plus, how would we explain that to your grandma?"

"Then there's Option 2," said Mason, looking toward the tarp his nephew was tied up in front of. "This." His wife reached over and pulled it off, revealing a more modern interpretation of a ray gun. "It's one of the MULCH devices we use to convert humans who would benefit us or learn something they shouldn't into plant-people like us."

"Oh, crud! No! Please, just no!"

"Of course, there's still the issue with my sister. I doubt, even with a rubber costume, you'd fool her, your grandfather, or your sister for long."

"And we're really not in the business of turning family, anyway," the female Pistachion interjected. "We didn't do it with Mabel, and we aren't about to start now."

Abel's great-uncle stepped forward, looming over his nephew, now looking rather somber. "Sadly, if we can't do anything that'll leave you living with some kind of permanent effect, there's only one option left."

"Mason, wait. Are you sure there's nothing else to be done? He's our nephew; Mabel's grandson."

"I'm afraid not, my love. Either he knows, or he gets changed somehow. But this way is our only choice. This kind of thing happens all the time around here. And Mabel wouldn't suspect a thing," the scientist reasoned.

The pistachio-headed redhead had a despairing look on her face before turning away. "Okay," she whispered. "But you have to do it. I-I can't bear to watch."

"I understand. I'll tell you when it's over." The male-Pistachion turned back toward his great-nephew.

The young pre-teen started thrashing real hard, struggling to break his bonds (to no avail). Finally giving up, he stared back at his former-hero. "Grunkle Mason, please don't!"

"I'm sorry." The Pistachion slowly reached forward, just beneath Abel's head. Too frightened to look, the boy closed his eyes, ready for the end. He felt the wooden fingers brush against his neck. He felt a snap...

Only to feel the vines tying him to his chair slacken significantly. His eyes shot open. Abel looked down and discovered they had fallen off. And the humanoid pistachio-tree that was his great-uncle wasn't reaching toward him anymore. Abel looked up; the man had his arms folded, and he was... grinning?

"W-what is this? What's going on?!" You didn't need to see to realize that confusion and exasperation were on the young man's face.

"We're letting you go," the Pistachion replied simply.

"What? I don't... what?" He heard giggling to the side. He turned to see his great-aunt with her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. "Aunt Wendy?"

"Sorry, but what did you think we were about to do? Hurt you? We're your family, dude."

"But I... I thought... Wait, was letting me out the plan the entire time?" Abel asked, still trying to wrap his head around these developments."

"Basically," Mason said with a shrug.

"But-but why all the tricks and tying me up and stuff? Couldn't you have just let me go, or maybe tell me you're going to after you're done talking?"

Wendy rolled her red eyes. "Yeah, like you'd buy our story. 'The pistachio-monsters cornered their human-nephew... to talk to him!!! Dun-dun-duhhhhn!' We had to get you to listen somehow."

Abel groaned as he stood up. "Point taken."

Mason patted him on the shoulder. "Welcome to Gravity Falls. Believe it or not, this is nothing compared to what we've been through, even at your age."

Wendy: "He's right. When I was a human-teenager, I once got turned into a tapestry. Needless to say, when you're not even a person, you kind of appreciate the simple things in life. Well, once you're a person again and actually alive and sentient enough to appreciate life, anyway."

"The nightmares from that..." Mason reminisced. "Anyway, I bet you're still trying to make sense of all of this. Got any more questions?"

Abel looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually... this explains a lot of things. This is why we don't see you that often, isn't it? You're trying to hide your secret."

"Well, I suppose that's part of it," said Mason. "We do live in another State you know. Plus, our work does sometimes require travel."

"Plus, man, we really don't like leaving Gravity Falls."

"True. You've read about the weirdness of Gravity Falls itself. Right, Abel?"

"Sure. Something about it being a magnet for that stuff?"

"Yes. The valley seems to draw in weirdness. It's essentially the highest-concentrated source in the world. Wendy and I... we basically feel drawn to it. Of course, we called this place our home long before we were MULCH-ed, and we aren't bound inside the weirdness-barrier surrounding the valley, so whether that's a contributing factor is debatable."

Wendy nodded. "And as far as weirdness goes, we're basically a 6 or a 7 on a ten-scale. Anyway, enough about that. What else makes sense to you?"

Abel smirked. "The nut-puns." His aunt and uncle just stared quizzically. "Seriously, 'nut-jobber'? Or how about Aunty Wendy saying how you've always been nuts for her? And there's that joke Grunkle Dipper always says while you're out of earshot."

"What joke?" the redhead asked.

"Wait, maybe we should change-"

"Oh, no. I wanna hear this," Wendy said, not giving her husband a chance to finish that sentence.

"That you're a nut with a rubber bu-"

"Next question!" Mason almost shouted, clearly embarrassed.

"Then there's the thing with Dana's soda and her music..."

Wendy sighed. "Yeah, sorry. Certain soda-brands are potentially lethal to our kind. We're not taking any chances with something unfamiliar. Trust me, she'll get it back later. As for her songs, I just don't like Straight Blanchin' and Chop-Chop. Sue me."

"Okay... I guess this is also why you two lock your bedroom door every night: so Dana and I can't see you without your masks on."

"Yes!" Mason replied (rather quickly, too). "Let's just go with that!"

"Uh, agreed!" said Wendy. "Anything else?"

"Umm... actually, something is bothering me. I'm not complaining, but you said I know too much. Why would you just let me go? I could expose you."

Mason gave a toothy-smile. "True... I guess we're just going to have to trust you with our secret."

"But we really can't have you telling anyone," said Wendy. "And we mean ANYONE."

"Even Dana?" Abel asked?

The Pistachion spouses looked at each other for a moment. Mason turned back to his nephew. "Listen, we're not trying to drive a wedge between you two, but this is strictly need-to-know. My great-uncle Ford trusted me with a secret once that I couldn't share. While that was logical, there was some disdain in there for family due to old, untreated wounds. This isn't like that; we just can't risk anything. We're asking you not to say anything to anyone. Please."

Abel paused a moment, seemingly mulling over all of this. He looked at the two. "I promise," he said with a sigh.

"Excellent," his aunt replied. "And hey! Next time your sister has a slumber party, maybe we can invite the family over and you can see us as we really are."

"Really?" asked Abel. "Man, I think the way I see the world has changed. I have got so much to think about this summer."

"Well, you can start that thinking in your room," said Mason. "You're grounded for the rest of the day."

"Wait, what?"

"Dude, you pulled your uncle's hair. Imagine if it had been real. And even if it was a regular toupee, that would have just been disrespectful."

"But it was Dana's dare!" the pre-teen boy argued.

"And she's grounded, too, as soon as we find her. Take the elevator up and go home. Don't tell the Ramirezes what went down just now. They think you were treated for an alien disease," said Mason. "Your aunt and I will follow; we need to get our masks back on."

"Fine..." he said, defeated.

The two Pistachions waited for their nephew to get inside before they replaced their masks.

"Well, that was something," said Wendy.

"Yeah," her husband replied. "Do you think we're doing the right thing by letting Abel in on this? There definitely is a risk, even if he has no intention of betraying us."

"Well, you said we should make it a point to reconnect with the family outside of the Falls. In fact, isn't that the reason we agreed to look after Abel and Dana? To bond with them? What better way is there than to show that we trust them?"

"But what if Dana finds out? Will that hurt our bond with her or her bond with her brother?"

"If she finds out, she finds out. It'll be alright. Whether things get tense or not, it'll be alright. You and Mabel always seem to hammer things out. Heck, Stan and Ford managed to find that old brotherly-bond they lost years ago. And that's just sibling-bombshells."

Mason chuckled. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

Wendy smirked. "Better believe it. The same way you always somehow give me faith in general just by being you... Dip." She gave the her nut-like spouse a peck on the cheek. "Now straighten your mask and get moving! I'll follow in a bit."

Mason looked confused. "Why?"

Wendy folded her arms. "You think I'm going to give you an opportunity to look at my 'rubber-butt' as we walk home? Forget it, Mister."

Mason gave a half-amused groan. "I'm in the doghouse, aren't I?"

"Pretty much… at least until you make it up to me."

"Well, I'm sure I can think of something."

The End

//

Well, that's the finale. I hope you all enjoyed this. And if it wasn't clear, yes, this is technically a crossover, or rather a sequel to a crossover, with Milo Murphy's Law, which I wrote for Wendip Week. Take care.

[zrtranscripts]

Season 8, Mission 19: Dear Alice

Quarantine

~

SAM YAO: Let me get this straight. We came to Dearg to find out why the labs here wanted red fungus and to cure Janine, only to find out the labs are under lockdown with us trapped inside because everyone here is infected with red fungus. Are you sure you're infected, Frances? I mean, usually the fungus turns people a lot more... undeady.

JANINE DE LUCA: Yes, Miss Dempsey. In our experience, the red fungus creates a very dangerous form of zombie.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Not here. Not yet, anyway. Everyone here has traces of fungus in our blood from the water supply, but it's spreading in our systems very slowly. We don't know why.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hmm. Perhaps the red fungus found here is a variant of the one inside mainland V-types.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: We've been trying to keep ours from spreading beyond this base. I'm so sorry that we failed.

[door creaks open]

CASPER BRAAM: What? Who in God's name are you?

SAM YAO: Frances, someone in a lab coat just came in jabbing a laser pointer at us.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Calm down, Casper! I let them in. Meet Casper Braam, Sam. He's one of the grad assistants here.

CASPER BRAAM: You let them in? We agreed, Frances. We can't risk further contamination. You're too soft!

FRANCES DEMPSEY: It's too late, Casper! We failed. The fungus is out of the base. These people want help fighting it. I'm taking them to the computer core. They're friends of my sister, friends of Alice.

CASPER BRAAM: Oh. You're from Abel? We've heard all about you. Alice was a vivid storyteller. All right. I see why Frances trusted you.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: We need to help them. This is... look, this is Janine De Luca.

SHONA REID: Janine, you're looking really pale.

JANINE DE LUCA: I'm fine, Miss Reid. Little parched, that's all.

CASPER BRAAM: You're badly dehydrated. You're the one with the nanite infection? [sighs] All we can do is find stuff in our stores and boxes here that seem like they might help. Did that thing we found stabilize you?

SAM YAO: For a bit. She's started to get worse now. She can't drink here without being infected with red fungus. We need to get her out.

JANINE DE LUCA: I have a mission. I will see it through! That is our way at Abel.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: All right. Casper, take them to the computer room. You better hurry. You need to get what you came for and then take Janine somewhere where the water is safe. Run!

~

CASPER BRAAM: This is it. Our main computer core. I expect you're all impressed. [laughs] We do keep the computer banks in rather gleaming shape.

SAM YAO: Um, why are there all those mini drones whirring up by the ceiling?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Oh, they're all over the labs. They used to assist with experiments holding clamps steady and stuff. Since the scientists left, we've never been able to use them. They just hover up by the ceilings.

CASPER BRAAM: Come over to the main terminal. It won't take long to pull up all the red fungus data in our archives.

SAM YAO: Frances, are you able to come down and say hello to us? Well, in person, I mean?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Yeah. I just... I don't know. I've heard about you all for so long from Alice. It feels weird to meet you for real. And I think it'll make it real that she's not with you.

SAM YAO: Yeah, I get that.

CASPER BRAAM: Huh, I found the red fungus research logs. They're mostly encrypted, and we've never had luck hacking into them. They need a passphrase. We've tried all the passwords we know were used here.

JANINE DE LUCA: Something from Van Ark?

SAM YAO: Hmm. Try Sigrid? Or Hakkinen.

SHONA REID: Nope. Do you ken his birthday?

JANINE DE LUCA: Runner Five, you read that biography of Van Ark. Put in variants of his birthday.

SAM YAO: No. Oh! Oh, hang on. Just a sec, just a sec. Try entering "her new land wakes." Paula told me he used that loads in his labs because, well, obviously he wanted to be extra creepy.

CASPER BRAAM: I don't believe it. We're in! "Van Ark research log, Far Hebrides sector. Samples confirm it, Mor Island is the origin of the fungus entity where the Vikings discovered - "

[computer shorts out, alarm beeps]

SHONA REID: I'm guessing the computer wasn't meant to short out like that.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Unauthorized retinas detected. Data bank locked. Initiating security protocols.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Retina scan? Crap.

SAM YAO: Uh, guys, those drones up by the ceiling, they've got glowing red lights now, and they're taking blue sparky sticks from a slot in the ceiling.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I've never seen them do that before. They've got taser rods. They're descending towards you! Five, the door on your left leads to a catwalk over a cavern. Run!

~

SAM YAO: Frances, can you see us? We're running across a series of metal catwalks in a huge rocky cavern filled with - filled with red fungus. Oh, that's not unsettling at all.

CASPER BRAAM: More drones are coming. There's at least a dozen chasing us now!

SAM YAO: Why would they even make drones that did that? Were they expecting to be invaded by zombies? Oh, wait. They probably thought their immortality experiments could go wrong and... yeah, I get it.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I see you on cams. You're over one of the underground storage bays. The fungus overran that part of the base weeks ago.

CASPER BRAAM: We always thought the scientists created the fungus. An experiment gone wrong. But the data log in there, what you say, it seems that they brought it here.

JANINE DE LUCA: [coughs] Indeed. And the data log specified Mor Island as the fungus's original home.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Those data logs need a retina scan. I should be able to register my own retina with the system, but not before you need to leave. You need to get Janine to safety. Casper, you're close to the high-security labs. Do you think -

CASPER BRAAM: Dr. Leeland's experiment? A risk, but it's our best chance. There's a stairwell built into the rock wall. We're going to head down it, towards the prototype testing labs.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Unauthorized personnel approaching high-security area. Initiating projectile countermeasures.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Uh-oh! The drones are firing darts at you now. God knows what drug they put in them. Head to the door. Run!

~

SHONA REID: So I'm guessing these are the high-security labs. You know, from the white walls, the beakers, and the sign on the wall saying "Keep Out, Unauthorized Personnel Only."

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Keep going through the labs until you find a workbench marked 47.

CASPER BRAAM: Dr. Leeland's favorite number. He always said the research assistants were too stupid to appreciate his work.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: The scientists said that about all their lab assistants. And me.

SAM YAO: Well, they sound like horrible bullies.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Yeah. I was glad when they left. Until I realized they weren't ever coming back. I think maybe what kept me going was having so much of my sister here with me.

SHONA REID: Is this it? Big metal box like a backpack strapped to a hose.

JANINE DE LUCA: EMP gun. Disables electronics. Not ususally this portable.

SHONA REID: The drones are coming through the door. At least 20 now. Take cover behind the benches.

CASPER BRAAM: Here goes nothing. Triggering EMP!

[explosion]

SAM YAO: Wow! Okay. Big burst of blue light and all the robots fall down. Although... although they are twitching a bit on the floor.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Warning, hostile action detected.

SHONA REID: They're dragging themselves across the floor and piling together.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Targetting systems damaged. Lethal force authorized.

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Dempsey, the robots are combining into one large drone!

SAM YAO: Oh, wow. I mean, it is terrifying, but it's also pretty cool! Those two drones look like eyes, and-and those ones are turning into arms, and - !

FRANCES DEMPSEY: They're pooling power. It's extending blades from its body. There's an exit to your left. Move fast! Go!

~

SAM YAO: Frances, we're in a winding corridor. That thing's after us.

JANINE DE LUCA: [coughs] The giant drone is now covered in spinning blades. It is accelerating fast. Do not let it touch you!

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I tried to activate the fire door behind you, but that thing's too fast. It got through. I don't know what to do!

SAM YAO: Come on, Frances. You'll think of something, just like Alice. She always came through.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Alice died, Sam! She was smart and brave and I was just her nerdy little sister, and she died while I was hiding safe up here. And now you're going to die, too!

SHONA REID: What about your lasers?

CASPER BRAAM: What about them?

SHONA REID: They're guarding the exits, right? Could they destroy this thing?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Oh my God, she's right! The lasers upgraded themselves to target anything that moves. If that massive drone came into their sensor range... The nearest exit is a few floors down. It's a dangerous area, but it's your only chance. Take the stairs. Faster, all of you. Run!

~

FRANCES DEMPSEY: When you exit the stairwell, way ahead you'll see a cave mouth with laser turrets on either side. There's a silver material found on this archipelago. Underground or in deep sea silt. The scientists used it for making power cells, transistors, even Janine's nanites. We need it to keep the equipment here going. The scientists mined it by expanding tunnels under the archipelago. This one leads all the way to Mor Island. And um... [door slides open] And I've come to say goodbye.

SAM YAO: Oh. Wow. Hi. You -

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I know. I look like her. People used to joke we were twins, born a few years apart. It's a lot.

SAM YAO: It's just really good to see you.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: You, too. Look, we haven't got long. That thing will find its way down the stairs soon. Have you got the control box?

SHONA REID: It's here, smashed to bits.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Once I've registered my retina scan, I can use your password to get into the encrypted databases. We'll do everything we can to fix it.

CASPER BRAAM: We always wanted to show the scientists we're as good as them.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I feel like I know you so well, Janine, Sam. Everything Alice wrote about you... I'm ready. Tell me how she died.

JANINE DE LUCA: Your sister Alice fell in the line of duty. She undertook a mission to recover information about the zombie virus from a hospital infested with zombies. She was bitten. Runner Five here completed her mission. That information led us to learn enough about the virus that we were able to synthesize a cure. She died a hero.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Okay. Good. Then we're carrying on what she started. Casper, stay with them to guide them through the cave?  If I go back to the security desk, I can hack the lasers to delay targetting long enough for you to pass them. If you're fast, they'll catch the drone, not you.

SAM YAO: We can do it. And um... we'll see you again, okay?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Bet on it. Now run!

~

[laser whirs]

SAM YAO: Frances, we're in the cave. Storage containers here, uh, labeled Van Ark. Another one Dr. Tomorrow. Another one Li Chen.

SHONA REID: Keep moving! The lasers are scorching the ground behind us.

[explosion]

CASPER BRAAM: God! The laser exploded a case of some liquid of Moonchild's all over me. Oh... It's fine. It smells of vegetables. It's not burning. I'm okay.

[explosion]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: The drone's destroyed! You're out of laser range. You can slow down.

SHONA REID: Always wondered what Dearg was up to. The answer is death traps.

SAM YAO: So this cave's dark and gloomy. We need to get Janine out. She's barely breathing.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Keep going straight. The cave should lead to Mor. I don't know what's in there. It's possible fungus has crept into the rocks.

CASPER BRAAM: I can't get back through those lasers. You'll have to quarantine me on Mor, put me in the auto boat.

SAM YAO: We will. Thank you. Thank you, Frances. For everything.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I'm so glad I got to meet you all. And you, Five. Thank you for keeping her colors alive. Sam, I know Alice never said what she felt about you. That was her choice. I want to respect it. But never doubt that she liked you.

SAM YAO: Really?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Yeah. And as long as I'm here, Abel has allies on Dearg.

~

[gotham-redbird]

The facility Robin had found was in Queens. Specifically, South Ozone Park, among the warehouses bordering JFK Airport. From a security standpoint, it was a fairly impressive set-up – the area was so low traffic that any strange vehicles would be quickly noticed, security cameras could cover the surrounding block with ease, and the barbed, electrified fencing surrounding the actual property provided a damned good deterrent to any would-be trespassers. And that was before factoring in the rest of the security that the large, plain two story building boasted: two patrols of armed guards and attack dogs walked the inside perimeter, and the security on the building itself covered both the ground-level and the rooftop, all of which was organized in a series of staggered, randomized patterns. Ground sensors were buried in a net six feet down to prevent tunneling attempts, and the walls of the building itself were made of concrete blocks reinforced with titanium struts. Inside, more guards patrolled. Motion detectors and laser grids secured the elevators, and twenty-four hour surveillance covered each and every stairwell, as well as most of the rest of the grounds and building. Authorized entry required stopping at for different checkpoints, a security badge, and both a fingerprint and retina scan on file before even getting to the front door. Unauthorized entry was met with lethal force. Seriously, there were even signs on the outer most ring of fencing. Trespassers will be shot and everything. There was a Lord of the Rings joke in there somewhere, Robin just knew it. Either that or Star Wars. Everything could be related back to Star Wars sooner or later. Regardless. Robin was impressed: it was excellent security. Whoever these AIM people were behind their ‘research facility’ cover, they weren’t playing. Not here, anyway. Still, Robin was going in, and he didn’t plan on getting shot in the process. Luckily for him, the electrical station that housed the main transformers supporting the grid in this area had a lot less security.

Robin took a silent, steady breath, making himself as he watched the first patrol go by, keeping a mental count to the halfway point. There was a two minute gap between each patrol. He hit the detonator. A few miles away, the device wired into the electrical station’s mainframe activated. It took thirty seconds to hit the labs, but Robin was already moving by then, launching himself off the nearest neighboring warehouse and over the first fence, armor and gauntlets more than enough protection from the barbed wire. Robin worked fast to short the electronic locks on the door and pulled it open just far enough to toss a handful of sleeping gas pellets inside. Three, two… One. He swung himself inside at speed, taking the second guard from the guard station by surprise as he was checking on his partner and knocking him out against the side of the metal detector.

Sorry, man, he thought as the guy dropped like a stone, and slid immediately into the shadows, moving into the elevator mechanical room and through the grating to the elevator shaft. The electricity went back up a second later, and Robin got attached his line to the winch to start the ride down to meet the elevator itself. Eight floors later, Robin touched silently down on the elevator roof and loosed his line, glancing briefly up as he did. It was official – he was in the underground lab facilities. Now he needed a computer terminal he could hack into and download the information he needed. He startled a little as the elevator started to move again, catching his balance quickly and dropping into a crouch. Down. They were going down, and Robin counted floors. Nine… Ten… Eleven… Twelve… Thirteen… Fourteen… Fifteen… It stopped at twenty-six. Robin waited, counting off a minute in his head to allow people to disembark. He used the next two minutes to patch into the camera on the elevator and set it to a loop, then used the roof hatch to drop down into the elevator cab. After two weeks of careful hacking and prep work, none of this had ever shown up. Which meant there wasn’t likely to be so much in the way of surveillance outside – the security teams wouldn’t have the necessary security clearance. Robin hummed a little, thoughtful, then hit the button to open the doors and stepped out into the hall, cape falling closed around his shoulders in a comforting shroud. There were a few hallways branching off of the elevator bank. Robin eyed the carpet critically for a few seconds, then picked the one with the least wear: less people used it, so there was less chance of anyone showing up unexpectedly. The corridor was long, wide and empty like the halls leading down into the Gotham Morgue, no doors to break the monotony. Just one, at the very end, locked against stray visitors by a DNA-encoded lock. Robin frowned briefly – he wasn’t getting past that easily – then looked up, confirming that this hall boasted the same drop ceiling that the rest of the hallway boasted. He smirked faintly. People were stupid. He balanced carefully on the piping as he reached back down to slide the tile he’d come through back into place, then crawled through to the other side of the door and dropped back down, landing in a crouch. Robin froze for a second as a hiss of air shattered the quiet, muscles tense. When nothing immediately happened, he straightened slowly, staring at the equipment and wiring lining the walls before slowly turning around, only briefly registering the computer terminal he glanced by. There was just… A lot to look at. And… Well.

Shit.

[thedcdunce]

Deadshot

“They're wrong. If I wanted to be dead, I would be. I don't want to die. I just don't care if I do.” - Deadshot

Real Name: Floyd Lawton

Gender: Male

Height: 6′ 1″

Weight: 202 lbs (92 kg)

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown

Abilities:

Marksmanship

Enhanced Senses

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Advanced)

Weaponry

Bilingualism

Equipment:

Wrist-mounted guns

Universe: 

Earth-One

New Earth

Citizenship: American

Base of Operations: Gotham City

Parents:

George Lawton; father

Genevieve Lawton; mother

Marital Status: Divorced (Susan Lawton; wife)

Occupation: 

Assassin

Mercenary

First Appearance: Batman #59 (June, 1950)

Abilities

Marksmanship: Deadshot is said to "never miss."

Enhanced Senses: It's implied that Deadshot possesses senses far beyond a normal human being.

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Advanced)

Weaponry

Bilingualism: Floyd Lawton is bilingual. He learned to speak Russian as a youth, and also claims to have been a card-carrying communist.

Equipment

Wrist-mounted guns: Deadshot has a wrist-mounted gun on each arm. They fire magnum bullets when he presses a trigger button on his palm. They also contain a grappling hook that allows him to swing across buildings.

Personality

In his psychological profile, Marnie Herrs says that Floyd Lawton has strong self-destructive urges. Herrs believes that he is looking for a way to die, and he hopes the Suicide Squad will provide one. Despite this, she says there is another side of him that wants to be well and does not know how. Captain Boomerang asks why he chooses to live in a prison cell, and Deadshot replies that "a bed's a bed." He has described himself as similar to Rick Flag, and states that they are both "lone wolves" who "don't fit in the pack." Herrs asks him about his sexual relationships, and he says that he exclusively visits prostitutes. He prefers sex to be simple like a business transaction, and hates figuring out what women want in relationships.

Floyd Lawton has told Marnie Herrs that life means nothing to him. His brother was the only person he ever cared about. He claims to have felt nothing, no guilt or remorse, when he killed his brother. He says the only life anybody really cares about is their own, and he does not even care about that. In his own words, he is "killing time, waiting to die." He tells Marnie that evil is real, and the only way to cure some people is with a bullet to the head. When his son was killed and he murdered the people responsible, he described this as a necessary action to protect his reputation. This was accompanied by an emotional outburst. Marnie Herrs accused him of being unable to admit his feelings because he could not deal with his own anger and grief.

History

Floyd Lawton is Deadshot, known as the world's deadliest marksman. His weapons of choice are two guns mounted on each wrist. He began his career as a vigilante in Gotham City, but he later became a highly-priced assassin and mercenary. He has been a core member of the Secret Six and the Suicide Squad.

Origins

Floyd Lawton grew up as a member of the idle rich. His father George Lawton made money in real estate, and his mother Genevieve Pitt belonged to a family of wealthy bankers. His brother Edward Lawton was a golden child, described as the opposite of Floyd. Both parents doted on Edward while treating Floyd poorly, but Floyd still grew up idolizing his older brother. George was unfaithful and cruel to Genevieve, so she asked her sons to kill their father. Eddie locked Floyd in the boathouse when Floyd tried to warn his father. Floyd broke out and grabbed his hunting rifle. Eddie had already shot their father in the second-floor library, paralyzing George for life, and was preparing to kill him. Floyd climbed a tree and aimed to disarm his brother, but a branch snapped and he shot Eddie between the eyes. He killed the brother he loved to save the father he hated. This incident was covered up to avoid dishonoring the family name. George denied Genevieve a divorce and forced her to live alone on a small stipend.

Some time after that, Lawton sought the training of the professional assassin David Cain, who instructed Lawton and taught him his marksmanship abilities.

The Man Who Replaced Batman

Floyd Lawton moved to Gotham City where he started living as a millionaire playboy. Wearing a domino mask, top hat, and tuxedo, he became the gun-toting vigilante Deadshot. Deadshot worked closely with Commissioner Gordon during Batman's absence. He became popular enough that they build a "Deadshot Signal" to replace the Bat-Signal. Batman investigated Deadshot and found that he was in cahoots with criminals to distract police from more serious crimes. During the final confrontation, Deadshot is unable to kill Batman as the Dark Knight had tampered his weapons. Like this, Lawton was arrested and sent to prison.

Strange Apparitions

Years later, Deadshot broke out of prison after becoming a hardened convict, who no longer cared about hurting innocent bystanders. He blamed Batman for ruining his life and tried to kill him using a new red suit with wrist-mounted guns. Their battle took them to a convention hall where Batman defeated Deadshot on top of a Giant Typewriter.

A short time later, Rupert Thorne broke Deadshot out of prison and hired him to assassinate Bruce Wayne, who he believed was Batman. The Human Target was hired to pose as Bruce Wayne while Batman fought Deadshot. When Deadshot saw them together, he tried to kill both of them, but the Human Target took him down. This proved to Thorne and a suspicious Vicki Vale that Bruce was not Batman.

Later, Batman visited Deadshot in prison for information on Thorne and broke him out when he learned the corrupt warden wanted them both dead. Deadshot was held prisoner in the Batcave, blindfolded so he does not know its location. Much later, Deadshot was hired to kill Julia Remarque as part of a plot with Syrian terrorists. Deadshot and the whole terrorist organization was defeated by Batman with help from Julia and Alfred Pennyworth.

Deadshot is seen as a member of the super-villain army during the Crisis on Infinite Earths, where he is defeated by the Creeper. Batman later receives a note that says "Know your foes," so he uses the Batcomputer to educate Jason Todd on many villains including Deadshot. Ra's al Ghul releases every super-villain in Gotham's prison and Arkham Asylum on Batman's first anniversary. Deadshot helps the Joker take over GCPD Headquarters, but Batman stops them and Talia al Ghul takes down Deadshot.

Legends

Deadshot is arrested by The Flash while pulling a robbery in Manhattan. Amanda Waller sends Bronze Tiger and Rick Flag to visit him in Riker's Island, offering him a pardon if he will come to work with Task Force X. Deadshot is placed as a member of the new Suicide Squad, and he kills their target Brimstone at Mount Rushmore with an experimental laser rifle. He does not leave when the others are released after this mission. Waller asks Deadshot to assassinate Captain Boomerang when Boomerang threatens to reveal the Suicide Squad to the public. Rick Flag knocks Deadshot's rifle out of the way, and has Enchantress solve the problem non-lethally.

Suicide Squad

Deadshot decides to stay with the Suicide Squad for personal reasons, living out of Belle Reve prison in Louisiana. His psychologist Marnie Herrs suggests that he joined the team because of a personal death wish. Their next mission is attacking the Jihad in Qurac. Deadshot is supposed to neutralize Manticore, and he kills Manticore by shooting him in the face point blank. When Belle Reve is attacked by the Female Furies, Deadshot refuses to help and says that security was not part of his deal. He impersonates the racist vigilante William Hell to discredit him at a white power rally. They are later sent to arrest Firestorm. Deadshot is not allowed to kill, but he nearly murders Blue Beetle out of anger before Rick Flag knocks him unconscious. His ability to speak Russian is useful when they are sent to kidnap Zoya Trigorin in Moscow. Enchantress goes on a rampage, and he is forced to take her down with a non-lethal shot. This leads to a shootout with the Russian army. In their battle against the People's Heroes, Deadshot fights Molotov using random projectiles because he does not have a gun. Enchantress tries to kill the defenseless Deadshot in revenge, but Boomerang knocks her out. In one of their therapy sessions, Deadshot accuses Marnie Herrs of not caring about her patients and she slaps him in the face. He kisses her, then leaves and tells her it did not happen. Warden Economos sends the Squad to kill Manhunters during Millennium. They battle androids in the swamp until Boomerang and Deadshot are both out of ammo, but they manage to survive the encounter. The Squad does not receive credit for this victory. Deadshot has to fight his oldest enemy when Batman infiltrates Belle Reve. Batman is able to knock Deadshot out, but later says that he knows Deadshot is pulling his shots for Waller.

Rick Flag disobeys Waller and takes the Suicide Squad to rescue Nemesis in Moscow. Waller angrily has Justice League International sent to stop them. Batman tells Deadshot not to waste his time by pulling shots again, and Deadshot angrily relents. Mister Miracle tries to fight Deadshot, but Deadshot wins and holds him at gunpoint. The teams stop fighting, and Bronze Tiger has to hit Deadshot to stop him from executing Mister Miracle. His gun goes off, but nobody is sure if this was intentional. In his next therapy session with Marnie Herrs, Deadshot reveals that he has an ex-wife and son. He decides to stop seeing Marnie for therapy because of the sexual tension between them. Nightshade takes everyone to a mission in the Land of the Nightshades, and they are captured by Incubus. Incubus is bonded to Nightshade's brother Larry Eden, so Deadshot ends the fight by shooting Larry in the head. They are next trapped in the Zero Zone, and Deadshot fights Zone creatures until Shade the Changing Man helps them get home. The Jihad returns and Deadshot is sent to neutralize their speedster Jaculi, so he shoots her in the kneecap. Jaculi tells him to kill her or she will come back for him, and Deadshot replies "I believe you" then kills her.

Beginnings

Deadshot begins taking more suicide missions, and he eliminates the last member of the gang he used to run with. He is sent undercover to kill a crimelord named El Jefe, and he slaughters a plane full of gangsters then falls out as it crashes. Black Orchid rescues him. His ex-wife Susan Lawton asks him for help, and Deadshot decides to take a leave of absence from the Suicide Squad. Marnie Herrs takes a leave of absence to follow him for answers about his past. Susan tells Deadshot that their son Edward was kidnapped. Deadshot tracks down his old associates, who are holding his son until he completes an old contract. He refuses to negotiate, and tortures these men to get the location of his son. Deadshot goes on a rampage killing everyone involved with the kidnapping of his son, including the expert sniper Pantha. Edward is trusted to a pedophile named Wes Anselm, who rapes him and accidentally kills him. Deadshot arrives too late and executes Anselm. This leads him to the real mastermind, his mother Genevieve Pitt. Deadshot's mother wanted him to kill his father George Lawton, completing the "contract" that lead to the death of Deadshot's brother. Marnie Herrs convinces Deadshot not to kill his mother, and instead, he cripples her the same way his father is crippled. In the aftermath, Marnie encourages Floyd to come back to therapy, but Floyd insists there is no cure for what he is.

Final Round

The Suicide Squad was blackmailed by Derek Tolliver and Senator Cray, so Rick Flag decided to assassinate both of them. Flag was unaware that Amanda Waller had already dealt with this situation privately. Waller realized what he was planning, and sent the entire Suicide Squad to stop Rick Flag from killing Senator Cray "by whatever means necessary." Simon LaGrieve insisted that Deadshot was not mentally fit to go on this mission after the death of his son, but Waller ignored him. Deadshot finds Rick Flag at the Lincoln Memorial, where Flag is holding Cray at gunpoint. He stops Rick Flag by killing the senator himself, following his orders to the letter. Then he whispers to himself "Ed. I killed the old man this time. Did just like ma told me." The police arrive and Flag tries to take Deadshot away. Deadshot, with tears streaming down his face, says that he will take care of the police and threatens to shoot Flag if he does not run. There is a shootout on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, and Deadshot is hit with many bullets, but he manages to survive. In the hospital later, Waller is furious that Deadshot killed Cray, and Deadshot replies that her orders should have been more clear. Waller later has stress hallucinations about sending Deadshot on a mission in his unstable condition.

The Phoenix Gambit

Lawton's uniform was stolen by an airport employee, who used it to commit many crimes and murders. Lawton was forced to kill the man with a bullet to the head. The shooting of his own "image" affected him greatly. For a while, he did not even fix the hole in his own uniform. While the suit had been lost, Lawton had threatened to kill his teammate Captain Boomerang, who he felt had been responsible due to drinking and missing their plane.

Some time before his last mission for the Suicide Squad, Count Vertigo asked him if he would kill him if asked. Deadshot agreed to consider it and reminded Vertigo with some regularity. After their final mission on Diabloverde, the two went off to a secluded area for the decision. Vertigo declined, a decision Deadshot accepted with no argument.

Suicidal Tendencies

Kobra pays Deadshot one million dollars to assassinate Deathstroke and Peacemaker. Deadshot attacks them in Switzerland, but they defeat him and explain that he was Kobra's next target. Peacemaker hires Deadshot for the price of one million and one dollars. He works with them and takes revenge by shooting Kobra, but Kobra survives and Deadshot is captured by Gennifer Deveraux. Kobra tries to brainwash Deadshot, and uses him as bait to capture Deathstroke and Peacemaker. Deadshot breaks free and distracts Kobra while the others escape. He kills Gennifer and they are able to destroy Kobra's base with help from Doctor Light and Katana. Deathstroke is later framed for treason, and Sarge Steel sends Bronze Tiger and Deadshot to bring him in. Deadshot is able to capture Deathstroke by shooting several rounds into his chest while he is distracted by Bronze Tiger. He is later hired again to help Deathstroke find nuclear weapons stockpiled by Crimelord. Deadshot visits Vatican City to assassinate the Pope, but Wonder Woman stops him and takes him into custody.

Amanda Waller puts a new Suicide Squad together, to destroy the Silicon Dragons in Hawaii. Deadshot is forced to fight Knockout when he recruits her. They travel to the underwater base of the cartel with Superboy. He battles Stinger, who is supposed to be his equal, but Knockout pulls him away before they can test who is better. Captain Boomerang is revealed to be working for Lady Dragon, so Deadshot tries to kill him. Deadshot shoots Captain Boomerang in both his hands while he is holding onto a ledge. Superboy rescues Boomerang, but Deadshot still crippled his ability to throw. They blow up the facility and escape.

Killer Elite

The demon Neron releases every villain in Belle Reve, and takes many including Deadshot to Hell. Deadshot is one of the villains to accept Neron's offer, making a literal deal with the devil. He begins working with the assassins Bolt, Chiller, Deadline, and Merlyn as a group called the Killer Elite. They are promised the power to kill their enemies if they spread mayhem for Neron. Each member is told to commit their dream assassination, and Deadshot chooses to blow up a classroom of kindergarten students. He views this as a poetic statement to demonstrate the meaninglessness of life. Obsidian blocks the bullets with his body, and pulls Deadshot into his shadow realm. Obsidian tries to tell Deadshot that they are not so different, and their inner pain comes from the same place. Deadshot continues lashing out violently, so Obsidian knocks him out. The Killer Elite are later seen trying to eliminate the Body Doubles, who they view as competition. Deadshot betrays his team and pretends to get knocked out because he is secretly involved with Carmen Leno.

The CIA recruits a new Suicide Squad to hunt down Hawk and Dove, under the authority of Loren Freitag. Deadshot has a stand-off with Hawk's father Colonel Martens, and Dove takes Deadshot down from behind. He gets into a sniper duel with Vigilante, and defeats her, but surrenders himself rather than murder a government agent.

Brainwave invites Deadshot to become a member of the new Secret Society of Super-Villains. This is revealed to be a sting operation by the JLA, and every member is arrested. Deadshot is seen imprisoned in Belle Reve when the JLA deal with a super-villain riot. Two-Face hires Deadshot to kill Batman, and Deadshot shoots Batman in the back so he falls off a building. Batman hunts Deadshot down, and Deadshot suggests they duel like the old west. Batman is quicker on the draw and he breaks Deadshot's jaw with a batarang.

Deadshot returns to Gotham when he is hired to kill the mob boss Lew Moxon. Moxon hires Zeiss as his bodyguard. Batman hunts Deadshot down, but Deadshot shoots the batline and escapes. Moxon is under heavy guard, so Deadshot manipulates Batman to get Moxon into the open. He slaps Moxon's daughter Mallory to the ground, and shoots Moxon in the spine. Moxon is paralyzed from the waist down. Batman arrives and Deadshot is forced to escape before he can finish the kill. He is next seen in the audience at a superhero fight organized by Roulette.

The Joker is told he is dying, so he infects an army of super-villains with Joker Venom including Deadshot. The Killer Elite are sent to attack Iron Heights. Deadline, Deadshot, and Merlyn kill a large number of guards until they are driven back by Gregory Wolfe. Deadshot uses the venom to infect his old teammate Captain Boomerang. The Flash takes Deadshot down with a punch to the face. This is the Killer Elite's last mission.

General Rock's Suicide Squad

Deadshot is recruited by General Rock to become a member of his new Suicide Squad, which is developed in the aftermath of Our Worlds at War. There are several other new members that he works closely with such as Blackstarr, Havana, Killer Frost, Major Disaster, Modem, and Reactron. They operate under the authority of President Luthor. This team was ultimately unsuccessful and they were disbanded.

War Games

The Penguin hires Deadshot as a bodyguard when every gang leader in Gotham is invited to a summit. This turns into a shootout, and Deadshot kills several men including Junior Galante while Penguin escapes. They meet Orpheus, and Deadshot catches up with his old friend Onyx. Hush and Prometheus subdue Deadshot when they assault the Penguin. Tarantula disarms Deadshot and defeats him in physical combat when she invades the Iceberg Lounge.

Deadshot was part of a community of assassins who congregate on the Injustice Gang satellite. He is the one who tells this group that Doctor Light was mind-wiped, while they are hanging out and playing Risk. Deadshot, Merlyn, and Monocle are attacked by the Justice League. Green Lantern traps Deadshot in an energy construct, and Deadshot shoots a ricochet bullet that slices his own neck. This is a ruse to make him drop the construct, and Deadshot blinds the invulnerable hero by shooting him in the face. Despite this clever trick, he is captured by Superman. These villains are prosecuted by Kate Spencer in court, but they avoid prison thanks to Deadshot's government connections.

Urban Renewal

Deadshot discovered he had a daughter, Zoe, who was being raised in a crime-filled area of Star City by her mother, Michelle Torres. Lawton decided to do right by this daughter and embarked on a lethal war on the local gangs that plague the area. The series ends with Deadshot faking his death, having realized a normal life is not for him, but having mostly cleared up the area and having convinced Green Arrow to patrol it more regularly.

Secret Six

The Secret Six were banded together by a mysterious, shrouded character named Mockingbird who offered a major reward for committing to the team and a severe punishment for not accepting membership. Deadshot was offered the reward of ruling North America; his punishment was to be the destruction of the neighborhood of his daughter and her mother. At the end of the mini-series, a stalemate was reached and Deadshot's status remains roughly unchanged from the end of his second mini-series. He remains a part of The Secret Six and was shown having reached a grudging friendship with another member, Catman. His share of the payment for the Six's mercenary work is stated to be sent in its entirety to his daughter and her mother. After the Six disbanded, Knockout commented in passing that he had returned to the Suicide Squad.

Salvation Run

Deadshot and the Suicide Squad were assigned in rounding up supervillains for removal from Earth to a supposedly peaceful planet known as Cygnus 4019 as part of Project Salvation. The group has encountered Pied Piper and Trickster several times, and each time failed to capture them. Deadshot made a solo effort to capture them, but the pair again eluded him. Much later, Deadshot traced and attacks Piper and Trickster on a train outside of the Rocky Mountains. Given that the supervillains are aware of Project Salvation Deadshot apparently kills The Trickster leaving Pied Piper on his own. In Salvation Run #2 Deadshot and along with Bane were tricked and sent off to the prison planet along with the last batch of criminals. Before being sent to Salvation, Rick Flag Jr. stated to him as the Boom Tube closed that he ca not have people like him on Earth. Deadshot vowed that if he ever returned to Earth, he would take his revenge on Rick. After helping fight off the Parademon invasion he managed to escape with the surviving villains in the teleporter.

Unhinged

The Secret Six are later reunited with a new lineup including Bane, Catman, Jeanette, Rag Doll, and Scandal. Their first mission is trying to recover a "Get Out of Hell Free" card forged by the demon Neron, which is held by the vigilante Tarantula. This puts them into conflict with the mysterious villain Junior, who sends an army of super-villains to kill them. Tarantula sacrifices herself to kill Junior.

Fun Facts

Floyd Lawton is known to have been friends with William Heller growing up.

Deadshot is lactose intolerant.

Deadshot's wrist-guns are inspired by the real life "Sleeve Guns" manufactured during WWII by the British Army's Station IX.

[sweet-christabel]

A Trusted Friend In Science

FF.net: (x) AO3: (x)

Chapter Thirty-Seven - 2036. Living With It.

The sun was hot on the back of Chell’s neck; once a welcome heat, now an annoyance. She wiped a hand across her forehead, adjusting her hat. She’d made it herself, weaving strands of straw together until it vaguely resembled a wide-brimmed fedora. It was the most hideous-looking thing she’d ever seen, and she wore it with pride.

She moved into the shade of the house, swinging her basket to the ground. Sitting on the blissful coolness that was the porch, she set to work washing her morning’s haul in a bucket, sighing as she dipped her hot hands into the water. She appraised each potato as she scrubbed it, searching for imperfections. It was with some irony that she reflected on her thriving potato crop. It was by far the best-growing food product in the garden. Although she was grateful to have a thriving crop of anything, Chell couldn’t help but wish for greater success with the tomatoes, beans, wheat or any of the fruit trees. Anything but potatoes. She ate them, of course, but it was still disconcerting to cook something that had once spent considerable time talking to her.

“Not the same potato,” she reminded herself, as she had done countless times since.

A chicken rounded the corner of the house, beady eyes appraising her with a suspiciously judging expression.

“Oh, don’t you sass me, madam,” Chell addressed it sternly, gesturing with the potato she happened to have in hand. “Start laying again and maybe you’ll have earned the right to look so snooty.”

The chicken nonchalantly stared at her for a moment, before pecking at the grain that littered the ground. Chell watched it and its companions while she worked, amused by the way they fussed around the yard, their world reduced to the haphazard wire fencing that she had constructed around the borders of her garden. The house was a comfortable size that she had built herself, (with a lot of help from kind volunteers), and the garden was her livelihood. She’d designed it mostly for function, with the vegetable beds, fruit trees, and hen houses taking up much of the space, but she’d left room for flowers and a bench, and a modest memorial spot in one corner. Since it was the only house and garden for several miles, there was plenty of room for expansion if it was needed.

She was just rinsing off the last potato when a noise caught her attention. Glancing sideways, she heard the rattle of a key, then the door to the tiny outbuilding opened and a scientist stepped through. Her scientist, to be exact. She felt a smile break out on her face.

Doug looked stressed, his hair sticking up in wild spikes, but he returned her smile when he saw her, weaving his way through the chickens to sit beside her on the porch steps.

“Hi,” he greeted, ducking under the brim of her terrible hat to kiss her.

Chell obligingly pushed it up out of the way, tasting coffee on his lips, inhaling the faint, unchanged scent of the labs that hung about him like a cloud.

“How’s your day going?” she asked when he sat back.

“Slowly,” he replied at once. “The device is fighting back at every turn. The calibration needs tweaking. Again. I can’t seem to get it quite right.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she told him, gently chiding. “You’re building a country-wide – potentially world-wide – travel network. It was never going to be straightforward.”

“I know,” he said, folding his arms over his knees. “It will come together eventually, I’m sure. It’s just sometimes…I kind of wish that Caroline had dreamed slightly smaller.”

She tried and failed to hide her amusement. “I’m sorry, but she was right. It’s stupid to have working portal technology and confine it to puzzle-solving. It should be used to cross long distances, especially now that the world is how it is.”

“I know that,” Doug said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I think she’s right too. I just have a headache. I want to get on with the work, not be tied up reporting to the damn president. I’m a terrible frontman for this project.”

“I disagree,” Chell countered, setting the potato down and drying her hands on the legs of her jeans. “The only reason I want you to step down from that position is because you don’t want to be there. But otherwise, you’re actually pretty good at it.”

“The only reason I’m staying put is because I don’t trust Kleiner with it,” he confided.

“Kleiner seems happy tinkering with the robots. And Angela’s keeping an eye on him.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “He’s good at running that department, I have to admit. But still…he’d have the right to get in on this, especially as one of the founders of this new Aperture. I think…I think I’m going to hand over to GLaDOS.”

Chell raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Will President James deal with an A.I.?”

“Once I introduce her to him, she’ll probably make a convincing case for herself without my help, but I’ll try and persuade him. How’s your day going?”

“Not bad,” Chell reported, nudging the basket with the toe of her boot. “I got a lot of potatoes again. You can take them back with you if you want. Gerry can use them in the cafeteria.”

Once again, Aperture ran alongside their lives, engulfing almost everyone they knew. But this time, it didn’t feel oppressive. Perhaps it was the state of the war-torn world they lived in, and the fact that the lab’s resources were being used responsibly for the first time in years – possibly ever – but Chell knew that neither one of them felt tied to it this time around.

After they had returned from their initial conversation with GLaDOS, both had formed set opinions about the propositions she had laid at their feet. Sitting in the back of Gordon’s car, they had shared those opinions and made plans for the future. Chell had admitted how returning to Aperture had made her feel safe, and Doug had said the same, confirming her suspicions that they were united in the realisation that escaping had done nothing to sever their ties to the place. It was there that their feelings differed.

Chell had resolutely decided not to take GLaDOS up on her offer. She had been tempted. The thought of resuming her old job, assisting with the running of the facility, and the familiar and new challenges it would throw up had looked appealing. It would have meant a place and purpose, an answer to the uncertainties she’d been worrying about ever since they had re-joined society. But it would have been the easy way forward, and Chell had never done anything the easy way. Instead, she’d set herself the task of becoming self-sufficient, of building a place to live not far from Julie and Angela, so that Doug could spend time with his sister when he wanted. It was the toughest challenge she’d ever faced, but she’d weathered it and emerged triumphant, providing not only for herself and Doug, but adding to the food supplies of the city of Wyoming and Aperture’s cafeteria. Compared to some of the farms, what she contributed was tiny, but it was all helpful, it was all needed, and it gave her more satisfaction than she’d anticipated upon starting up.

By contrast, Doug had become an Aperture scientist once more. For him, it was not about taking the easy route, but a desperate need to go back and fix what had gone wrong. There was no way to undo the past, of course, but Chell knew how much he needed to turn his work there into something more positive than it had been. He wanted to help move the company forward, to contribute to making the world better. She understood his reasoning, even if she couldn’t do it herself. He was trying to change his own perception of the place, so that it held no power over him. He could never forget that GLaDOS had killed his co-workers, just as Chell could never forget what had happened to her father, but they both knew it worked the other way too: GLaDOS would never forget how they had worked to bring her down twice. Tentative trust began to build up, bizarrely based on a foundation of mutual distrust. From there, they were all able to move forward.

Doug was working closely with GLaDOS to put portal technology to the more practical use that Caroline had first envisioned. It enabled him to live in Wyoming and commute to Ishpeming in a single footstep. Chell had built him a small outbuilding, where he had installed one of the panels that she remembered from tests, the ones that had supported the pre-placed portals. It linked to a similar small room inside his lab. Both were kept securely locked, for safety and privacy reasons, and they had proved a successful first application of the technology. Now they were thinking bigger, finding ways to cross states, even continents, as Chell’s shot to the moon had already proved that range wasn’t an issue. Doug was busy developing different portal frequencies so that there wouldn’t be any mishaps with destinations, working on the back of the techniques GLaDOS had developed when building the co-operative testing initiative, which allowed for four portals within the same puzzle.

New Aperture, as they had nicknamed it, had changed many of the lives around them. Chell sometimes went in with Doug, running through a few test chambers for old time’s sake. GLaDOS seemed to enjoy the opportunity to be spiky with her again, and Chell didn’t mind it so much now that she’d ensured the proper safety features were in place. Without deadly lasers, toxic goo, or lethal turret rounds to deal with on top of the barbed comments, the comments alone seemed much easier to brush off. Secretly, she knew it would have felt very strange to test without hearing them. She’d always enjoyed the challenge of the tests, somewhere deeply buried under the stress, anger and fear. Sometimes she relished the chance to set her garden aside and focus her mind.

Kleiner had happily accepted a job in the labs, and he was working on a series of non-sentient robots to aid with manual labour, dabbling in artificial intelligence on the side. Doug’s niece, Angela, had joined as his assistant, and to ensure that he didn’t get too carried away. Gordon had been offered a post, but had politely refused on grounds of enjoying his retirement. He had, however, taken on the task of distributing some of GLaDOS’s cures, which had only served to heighten his hero status, despite his adamant claims that he had had nothing to do with their development. He quickly gave that up, not just because of the attention, but also due to the fact that he and Alyx had their hands full following the birth of Eliza, their daughter. Occasionally, he would take some time out to visit and join Chell in running a few co-operative tests, and the two often engaged in friendly competition, despite the fact that the tests called for teamwork.

The citizens of Ishpeming had benefitted from Aperture’s re-emergence. Many of them got jobs there, as office clerks or test subjects, (again, with proper safety protocols in place), and Gerry had happily taken over the cafeteria. Chell had learned that he’d shown an interest in cooking before the war, and she was pleased that he’d managed to find a way to integrate it into his life. Trevor, like her, opted to stay aboveground, but he had his hands full growing produce for the sudden influx of residents in the town, mostly scientists who came to join Aperture’s new ventures.

Chell had a pleasing balance of solitude and company between her garden and the labs, and she could escape to either one as she wished. She didn’t even have to worry about Wheatley, as Angela had fallen head over heels as soon as she had been introduced to the talkative core, and had offered to look after him, instantly fascinated in his construction. Although GLaDOS had not relented on her decision to keep him away from Aperture, Angela still learned enough in her spare time to start developing new cores, albeit ones without the combination of ambition, selfishness and resentment that had led to Wheatley’s disastrous time in charge. Wheatley, in return, seemed to enjoy her company without the edge of guilt that would always taint his relationships with Chell and Doug, and the two of them muddled along well together, although Julie found his presence in her house trying, to say the least.

“You know what the hardest thing has been?” Chell spoke up, all the introspection making her want to share some of her reflections.

Doug blinked, momentarily taken aback by the change of topic, unaware of Chell’s lengthy thought process. “What?”

“Learning that we were going about things all wrong by running away from Aperture. We spent so long trying to escape. It was so jarring when it didn’t really solve anything.”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a nod. “The solution to our peace of mind wasn’t escaping Aperture but finding a way to live with it.”

“We couldn’t have figured that out any faster than we did, though,” Chell added with certainty. “We had to spend the time doing what we did in order to come to that conclusion.”

“GLaDOS had to reach it too,” Doug said quietly. “Do you think you can ever forgive her? Truly forgive her, I mean?”

Chell was silent for a long while before answering. She’d asked herself the same question many times before.

“I don’t know. It’s hard. It feels…impossible. But even if I don’t forgive, I do understand. I get why she reacted the way she did. So that’s a start, I guess.” She shrugged. “That’s more than I expected, given our history.”

A comfortable silence fell between them as they sat in the shade, looking out over their garden. Chell never forgot how lucky they’d been, how close they’d come – on multiple occasions – to never having a life like the one they’d built.

“I should get back,” Doug said at length, stretching his legs out.

“You haven’t eaten,” Chell reprimanded.

“I had a sandwich before I left. I just wanted to see you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Rattmann,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

She stood up to give him a hug, sending him off to the outbuilding that housed the portal with her usual parting words.

“Go make the world better.”

Holding the basket of potatoes in one hand, he turned to awkwardly give her a salute before disappearing through the door. She watched him go with a fond smile. Another unlikely hero, like Gordon. Like herself. She knew Doug would never accept the label, but she’d given it to him in the privacy of her own thoughts. The war had made unlikely heroes of many people. Secluded from it in Aperture, they’d faced their own.

Left alone, Chell sat back down on the top step, watching the chickens peck. Wheatley had developed a strange sort of fearful fascination with them the last time he and Angela had visited. He was terrified of them because they were birds, but somewhat mollified by the fact that they couldn’t fly. After pushing past his initial alarm, he’d taken to making brash observations about them, bolstered by the bravado of being propped safely out of reach on the porch steps. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the cockerel.

Chell glanced towards the memorial in the corner of the garden, pondering what she’d said to Doug. She’d been honest with him about how she felt about forgiving GLaDOS. She didn’t know if she ever could, and she had no answers for whether that was fair or not. It seemed utterly unthinkable, if she was brutally honest, and she knew it had played a small part in her refusal to work at new Aperture. But once upon a time, understanding the reasons why GLaDOS had done what she’d done had seemed impossible too, and yet Chell did understand, and even felt a tiny measure of sympathy. That was a step towards forgiveness for sure. The problem was, Chell didn’t know if she wanted to forgive, whether it would feel like a betrayal to her father and all the others that had lost their lives to tests and neurotoxin.

She tried to think about what her father would say, what kind of advice he’d give, but the harsh truth was that she just didn’t know. He’d closed himself off from her in later years, to the point that she was forced to accept that she hadn’t known him very well. At the end, at least. She hoped that he’d have told her to be true to herself, because her own judgement was all she had to go on.

Perhaps she would forgive. One day. And when that day came, perhaps she’d be okay with it.

“Time will tell,” she said aloud. “You can’t force it.”

When she’d first started to develop a friendship with Doug, what she’d appreciated most about him was the way they could bounce opinions off each other, and argue their points in a fair debate. That hadn’t changed, even if everything else had, but their conversations often made her face things she’d rather not. She knew it was good for her, but it wasn’t always welcome. Still, it was a small price to pay to have him in her life.

Her life was good. It wasn’t what she’d expected after everything she’d been through, and she was grateful for every part of it. She’d lived so long on a knife’s edge, with the weight of tension pressing down on her, and then in an adrenaline-fuelled nightmare. There was nothing in her new life that ever surprised her, and she found it refreshing. Eventually, she suspected she’d tire of it and seek out something to keep her more challenged, but for now she relished just how reliable everything was. Nothing changed unless she gave it express permission, and she was more than happy with the feeling. She didn’t want to be surprised by a single thing for a good long while yet.

Much later in the afternoon, while she was elbow-deep in the vegetable patch, there came the rattling of the lock on the outbuilding, and Doug’s head appeared around the door, his expression preoccupied and apologetic.

“Uh…” he said.

Chell stood up, old fragments of alarm starting to uncurl in the pit of her stomach, and she cursed herself for tempting fate with her earlier thoughts. “Oh god, what?”

“I may have accidentally…” He took a deep breath, and Chell braced herself. “…agreed to watch over a toddler,” he spat out, words hurrying over each other after his initial hesitation.

Chell blinked at him.

“She…Gerry found her. In the wheat field, next to the body of her mother. They were starving. I mean…well, the girl had had food, but obviously the mother hadn’t, and…she’s all alone, I figured we could look after her for a bit. We have the space. I know I should have asked you, but…it’s literally just happened and GLaDOS has just invented a no-children policy. Gerry and Trevor don’t have room to take on a child, I don’t want to ask Julie, so I just thought…” He trailed off again and shrugged.

Chell took in his anxious demeanour, taken aback by his obvious desire to help. She’d never really labelled him as the paternal sort. In fact, his own words to her had spoken of his concerns about whether he was even suited to childcare. Of course that had been before, back when he’d still been coping with his condition, not giving himself enough credit for his control over it. Now he was free of it, but barring a residual, outward sense of calmness that he’d never allowed himself before, he was largely unchanged.

She debated whether she could handle taking care of an orphaned toddler, and whether she really felt up to it, but she was already moving towards the outdoor water pump, rinsing the soil off her hands.

“Lead the way,” she said.

“You don’t mind?”

“I was an orphan once too, remember?” she told him, joining him in the outbuilding and locking the door behind them. In a single step, she was standing on the Aperture-standard carpet tiles of his lab. “We should help where we can until we can come up with a long-term solution.”

He met her gaze, nodding firmly. “Agreed.”

Feeling strangely nervous, she added, “She shouldn’t stay too long, though. I wouldn’t want her to get attached.”

“No, nor me.”

“And someone should do something about the poor mother.”

“Gerry’s taken care of it.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “If only she’d been able to make it into town.”

Chell reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “She still might not have survived,” she said gently. “You know as well as I do that it’s a harsh world out there now.”

He nodded. “That’s why I wanted to help. The girl…she’s not old enough to understand what’s happened. She only knows a few words, but one of them is ‘Mom’…or some variation of it, at least.”

She squeezed his hand again. “So let’s go help.”

Doug looked down at her, and she saw her own nervousness reflected in his face. Briefly, she wondered why they were putting themselves through it, but she knew how desperate he was to help people, to atone for those he couldn’t help before. It was the right thing to do.

Together, they left the small room that the portal was locked away in, walking Aperture’s familiar corridors on the way to their mercy mission. It was simple: they would look after the girl, find her a place to live, someone to love her, then, when she was ready, she would leave. They could handle a short period of responsibility, Chell was sure. It was the simplest plan in the world.

It happened exactly as she’d intended it would. Almost.

They did look after the girl, and when she was ready, she did leave…at the age of twenty-three, when she wanted her own space.

In hindsight, Chell wasn’t surprised that their daughter had come from Aperture. Their lives had always been tied to it. They’d just needed to find a way to live with it in peace, and peace was a luxury they’d finally earned. She could live with that.

The End.

A/N: That’s it, guys, final chapter. Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride. It’s been fun :D

[riverofmemoriesft]

. Between the Lines . 191

Between one moment and the next, Lucy was thrown off guard by a ridiculously high amount of heat that washed over her. She screamed in surprise, throwing her hands up to protect her face and a swearing future Natsu spun her around, pressing her to his chest with his arms around her, protecting her from the burning heat as someone stepped through the Gate.

Zeref chuckled, his tone warm as he murmured, "Brother...it has been so long since I last saw you as you are right now…"

The roar that left the creature was different than anything Lucy had ever heard.

It spoke of pain and rage and the agony of the people the monster had killed. Lucy's heart skipped a beat in fear and she wanted to flee and never look back. For the first time in years, Lucy remembered the nightmares and the darkness in the night that she'd sought protection from, the monsters that had never existed anywhere but in her imagination.

Monsters that now did.

"This is the first demon and the most powerful," Zeref said when the roar ended, the demonic scream ending. "This is my little brother as his true self. This is Etherious-"

Zeref disappeared a split second before flames struck the space he'd been standing in. The ground melted, the Gate cracking and the dragon in the sky screamed in fear before retreating. The demon laughed, the sound dark and lethal.

"Lucy," the future Natsu rasped, "Run."

He released her, spinning around and unleashing a Fire Dragon's Roar that struck the demon. The demon cackled maliciously and seemed to enjoy the warmth as it sucked in the flames, inhaling them like a starving man devoured food.

And then it moved so quickly that Lucy didn't see it until the future Natsu was in front of her again, a black clawed hand shoved through his chest. The demon drew its flaming hand back and giggled as it incinerated the heart it held.

Lucy screamed as the future Natsu fell dead to the ground, cloak absorbing the blood that pooled around him.

Her scream caught the demon's attention and she cried out when its hand wrapped around her throat. She couldn't see its face in the dark of night, its body hidden by the darkness and flames that surrounded it. Talons, sharp as daggers, dug into her skin and she clawed desperately as its hand held her there.

It leaned in and she gave a sob.

In a voice that sounded like metal scraping over bones, it purred, "I should burn you where you stand, daughter of the stars. I'd watch you burn and I'd hear your screams and they would feed me like the flames that he tried to burn me with."

"Then do it," Lucy rasped, grabbing his face in her hands. She felt her eyes widen as red eyes glowed luminously, full of deadly intent and delight that only grew as she wheezed for air. It enjoyed her pain.

Suddenly, it flinched. "How," it demanded, throwing her away with a cry. She yelped as she struck the ground and she realized that it was clutching its face, screaming in agony. The sound echoed in her ears. A sound that she'd never forget for all of her days.

She gulped down air and then frowned as she realized light had been cast from the sky. Her head snapped around to look and the demon's scream filled the sky as a white glow grew and grew until it was all they saw.

She had heard the cries and screams of grief and terror throughout the city as she came to a stop near the castle. She'd seen the dragons, rampaging throughout Crocus. She'd seen the bodies strewn throughout the destruction as the monstrous metallic creatures crept through the damage.

She had stared numbly at the teary-eyed woman before her, struggling to stop the bleeding. "Why'd you come after me, Meredy?" Ultear had whispered. "I told you-"

Meredy had laughed softly, pained. "I wouldn't leave you on your own. I wanted you...I wanted you to know that the guilds...you should join one, Ultear. You should...have a family, too."

Ultear pressed her lips to Meredy's forehead now, tears rolling down her cheeks. She'd only sought to make amends for the crimes she'd committed in the past, and as she knelt there in her friend's blood, she accepted that making amends meant her own death. She held the spell in her mind.

And then, she acted.

She screamed at the agony as the magic raced through her veins. Magic tore through her body and she forced herself to keep going as it ripped at her from the inside out, her hair flying around her face. She stared at the sky, locking her gaze on a space above her and willing the spell to work.

A white speck appeared and grew. Ultear smiled and closed her eyes, giving one last forceful shove.

And then the world was gone.

As the clock chimed to tell the time, a dragon rammed its shoulder into it. It burst into flames when the fiery dragon crashed into it and it collapsed with a roar. The dragon payed the clock no mind and continued its pursuit of Sting, who was fighting just as fiercely as Rogue was, their cats clinging to their shoulders.

They were exhausted. They'd tried Unison Raid, but it had done them no good. It had barely scarred either dragon.

An exhausted Sting looked over his shoulder when someone screamed his name in warning, and his gaze filled with horror.

"Shit!" he cried, struggling to dive out of the way. Lector tumbled from his shoulder. His legs didn't move fast enough, and Rogue's head snapped around, panic and terror evident when he saw the laser that was fired at his partner, aiming straight for him in a way that he couldn't escape.

And then Rogue had tackled both he and Yukino, who had jumped into the path, to the ground with a breath to spare.

There was a moment of confusion as they all stared at one another, heaving for air. "Rogue?" Yukino whispered, and then sobbed his name, tackling him in a hug. He caught her, one arm around her as he stared at Sting with shock.

"I...I saw her…"

"Same here," Sting interrupted, furrowing his brow. Lector crawled back onto his shoulder, digging his claws in. The flaming dragon roared, glowering down at them, and he suddenly grinned. "Hey, Yukino, got your Spirits?"

"Of course," she murmured, holding the keys up. Her lips trembled, tears streaming down her face as she stood, helped to her feet by Rogue. Sting gently touched her shoulder, making sure she was all right, and then whirled around to face the dragons with a mocking grin on his face.

"Surprise, you bastards," he laughed. "We're alive!"

And then he let loose a Roar that smacked the flaming dragon right in the face.

Throughout Crocus, people changed their path at random.

Laxus somehow knew that Mirajane needed help and she flashed him a grateful look as she fell into step beside him, fighting off the metallic creatures as a dragon barreled towards them before whirling on her heels. Her siblings appeared at their sides and the group began to work together, soon joined by the Thunder Legion. The dragon screamed in rage as it was driven back.

Lyon stopped Meredy from leaving and Juvia spun out of the way, stumbling into Gray, who snatched her back as the creatures shot their attacks them. She trembled in his arms, and he pressed his face into her blue locks for a moment before getting back to work, confused, because he could have sworn he'd seen himself dying.

Jellal jerked aside just in time to avoid something that flew at him, and Erza slammed into him in her rush to get out of the way of an attack, her fingers catching on the jacket he wore as he helped her, dark eyes wide. They met each other's gazes and then rushed on.

Romeo dragged Macao away from a suspicious area. Bisca tugged Alzack out of the way of a house that gave way, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared up at him in horror. He looked stunned before he pressed a kiss to her lips and started off again.

High in the sky, Natsu saw an attack coming and bent backwards to avoid it. He slid over the side of the dragon, but caught a scale and hauled himself back up, grinning as he pictured himself hitting the ground, vision going dark.

"I don't know how the hell I'm alive right now," he mused, scales rippling over his cheeks as Dragon Force was summoned into his body. "But you just made a mistake."

The future Rogue stared at him in shock and then shook his confusion off, remembering a scream that hadn't belonged to human or dragon. But he focused on Natsu as the dragon slayer crashed into him, sending him flying over the side of the dragon, tumbling towards the ground. He caught himself on the tall roof of a hotel, scowling as he bunched his muscles.

Exhausted, Natsu locked his gaze onto the flaming dragon.

Destroy the Gate! a voice in his head screamed and Natsu decided to listen to it.

"First things first," he told the voice that sounded suspiciously like Igneel's.

"I need a snack."

Lucy didn't understand how, and she didn't understand why, but she knew the second that Zeref turned to face them, just as bewildered as them, that he was there to bring forth the demon her mother had written about in her diary.

Her gaze hardened and a goal formed in her mind.

"Get him away from the Gate!"

The future Natsu bared his teeth and threw himself at Zeref. "No argument here!" He crashed into Zeref, and the black-haired mage looked stunned that he'd even thought of touching him. Lucy summoned Loke with effort - the Lion had left to preserve her strength - and ordered, "Keep him away from the Gate, Loke!"

Loke growled, a sound that she'd never heard him make. "On it, Lucy."

She snapped her whip out, and then watched in shock as Zeref's face twisted with rage. He disappeared, and she shrieked when he reappeared in front of her, only a breath away. "Lucy!" Loke cried, but he'd already grabbed her chin, leaning in close. Frozen by fear, Lucy didn't move.

Lucy had never thought she'd be this close to Zeref, the black mage of legends and the emperor of Alvarez. His eyes blazed with delight, as if he was entirely amused by this turn of events. His breath washed over her face as he spoke.

"I saw it," he breathed to her, and she grimaced. Even his breath held power.

"I saw what you possess," he continued. Over his shoulder, both the future Natsu and the Spirit beside him were still, unable to get to her. Loke's eyes were full of terror.

Zeref chuckled lowly. His grip tightened on her chin. Her fingers shook, the whip tumbling from her hands. Its golden hilt struck the ground, creating sparks. He leaned closer, as if he intended to brush his lips over hers as he tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear.

"Remember me, Miss Heartfilia," he murmured, eyes glowing. "So many secrets that you know nothing of...the dragons, the magic you hold, Natsu. Only when Hell...no. Only when the Demon King's flames freeze over will I forget you."

And then he was gone.

Lucy sank to her knees, shaking, icy and cold.

Loke let loose a nervous breath and then drew a hand down his face. The future Natsu dropped beside her, gently inspecting her with worry, and Lucy laughed with a tad bit of hysteria in her voice.

Because even a Natsu she knew nothing of - a Natsu from a thousand futures away, a Natsu with deadened eyes and a face lined with exhaustion, who had come to save their world from the fate of his own - thought only of her as the city burned around them.

The second the pain vanished, Ultear checked the watch on her blackened wrist. She smiled faintly.

A mere seven minutes.

Her entire life had been worth only seven minutes.

Yet…

She could see the difference as her body began to disintegrate. As her body turned to ash, she could see Natsu Dragneel fling himself from the body of the flying dragon to the fiery one. She watched as it reared up onto its hind legs with a roar of anger. Across Crocus, a cloud of venom brought another dragon to the ground, and Cobra suddenly roared in triumph at the same time that Wendy's trilling scream of victory filled the air, the emerald dragon retreating.

"Ah, my hands," she murmured, looking down suddenly. Her hands had dissolved into nothing. "Did I make up for my mistakes? Did I do what others couldn't?"

"Ultear!"

Ultear's dark eyes snapped up. She smiled at the sight of Meredy running towards her, trailed by Juvia, Gray, and Lyon. Gray looked stunned, Lyon confused as to why they were chasing some strange woman around.

"Meredy," she murmured as the pink-haired woman dropped beside her, sobbing. "You're alive."

"I am," she whispered, "Ultear, what have you done?"

"I gave them all life," she breathed, gesturing to the city. She furrowed her brow when she realized that her arm had disappeared up to her shoulder. "I used a spell that turned back time. I was only worth seven minutes. Did it work? Did you see?"

"It did," Juvia said softly, stepping forward. "You saved Gray."

Ultear's eyes snapped wide. She looked to the ice-make mage, both shocked and pleased. He searched her gaze and nodded curtly, a look of mournful gratitude on his face as he said, "Lyon, this is Ultear Milkovich." Lyon's breath hitched. "Ur's daughter."

"I found out I was taken when I was young. She never left me," Ultear whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for all of the harm I did."

"You've done more good than harm, Ultear," Meredy murmured. "I knew you were a good person at heart, and you've proved it." Tears rolled down her cheeks as Ultear turned to look at her, her form almost gone.

Ultear gave a final smile.

And then she was gone. The ashes of what was left of Ultear Milkovich were carried away on the wind of an attack Wendy threw at her dragon, and Meredy shakily whispered into the air.

"I'll make sure that you are never forgotten, Ultear. You saved countless lives."

Juvia took her hand and smiled warmly, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Meredy, Jellal and Erza will want to know we are alive."

"Yes," she agreed, standing. "Let's go find them."

[storyunrelated]

Evil In You 5/5 - Beats the Evil Out of You

And so it ends.

[Total massacre]

The rotary cannon came up faster than Antii would have expected, and it didn't help that he was so blinded with rage that he wasn't really paying attention. The barrels were already spinning up before it finished aiming and by the time it was pointing right at Antii they were ready to fire. So it did.

This was not a weapon like the feeble armaments that had been leveled against Antii so far today, the ones he had been able to brush off without a second thought. This was something else entirely. Larger, ferocious, and of course designed specifically for breaking open armour just like the kind he was wearing. Antii had a perfect second or so of realization about this as his kinetic field was almost immediately overwhelmed and the armour itself had to take the brunt of the attack. It didn't take it too well.

Instincts that had been neuromatically seared into his grey matter flared into life as damage warnings started to scream at him from injured sections of the armour. These instincts made him move, and he hurled himself bodily away as far and as fast as he could. Landing in a roll he boosted off with a kick from the KMU to gain even more speed and distance. The other suit followed, dragging its bucking and spitting weapon after Antii and only just managing to be thrown off target as Antii continued to evade.

A handful of heathens - who had been gawping at the unfolding fight - hadn't had the presence of mind to move or hide when this happened. They vanished into mist as Antii moved behind them and their ostensibly-friendly suit failed to stop firing as the killzone became where they were standing. The big suit didn't seem to care much about this, but did stop firing. The Razem 5/7 suggested to Antii - amidst hysterical warnings about its structural integrity being compromised - that the opponent was likely trying to conserve ammunition. That Antii knew this automatically he didn't think of as odd, despite the fact he really should have no idea. It was just natural now.

"I guess hoping you'd be polite enough to stand still was a bit stupid of me," the other suit said, adjusting its stance. Previously hidden hatches and flaps popped open across their shoulders. Antii saw, highlighted and targeted, bristling pods of missiles nudging out and locking into position. An almost imperceptible tremor ran through him as another, subtler warning sounded throughout the suit. The warning that he was being locked onto. He started moving again.

Antii was looking ahead of himself as he ran and dived and jumped and flipped, but a significant portion of his suit's sensor-suite was engaged in keeping track of the missiles and ensuring that wherever he went he was where they weren't. He perceived them abstractly, not seeing them but simply being aware of them - just knowing that was this angry swarm of explosive objects blooming up and arcing into the air to come back screaming towards him. The missiles burst open to disgorge sub-munitions, a rain of bomblets that screamed in all around, exploding above ground for maximum damage. Antii leapt through it all.

Direct firepower from a massive cannon firing heavy-caliber shield-busting rounds was one thing; poorly directed shrapnel and pressure waves from anti-personnel missiles was quite another. While a direct hit would have been very bad news, Antii wasn't staying still long enough for that. His KMU protected him from what fragments did hit him, making them ricochet off at speed as he continued to evade. As he leapt and flipped between the explosions, he drew closer and closer to the heavy suit. He’d run in an arc, and while it wasn’t a straight line it was still one that led directly back to his target. Through the fire and the flames and the whizzing shards of metal Antii and his suit were a tough enough target that the big suit didn't see them coming until they practically on top of them.

Antii jumped, bracing first and launching up as high as possible. Turning with a grace and elegance impossible before on he landed perfectly on his feet behind the heavy heathen suit. Spinning In place to land a blow he caught that big shield full in the face instead. The impact was tremendous and all his suit's system had to do a split-second reset just to recover, and in the meantime he had been launched backwards hard enough to kill those unlucky souls who happened to be standing behind him at the time and with sufficient power left over after that to end up embedded in a nearby wall.

This time he avoided getting riddled with shells as the rotary cannon fired again. Reaching up to grab the top of the wall Antii twisted in place, coiled like a spring, and launched himself back at the heavy suit. The shield came up but too slow this time and Antii was on them. Scrambling in place he crawled all over the much larger suit even as it tried to buck him off, cannon firing wildly the whole time. Antii, not really thinking of the ramifications, rammed a flat hand through the spinning barrels. His hand broke. The gun broke. There was immense pain and he was distracted enough to be hurled away again, landing in a heap and rolling over onto one knee.

"Broke my damn gun..." the heavy suit growled, disengaging the smoke-belching gun from its arm. It hit the ground with a heavy clunk, the ammo-hopper mounted to its back falling after. Plates shifted as another weapon slid out of a hidden compartment, ratcheting loudly into place where the cannon had been moments before. This one looked different. Instead of multiple barrels it had just one, and it looked more like a camera lens that anything else. Ribbed pipes and cable fed into the back of the weapon and Antii's suit informed him of a sudden spike in power output from his opponent. He started charging forward again. Then his leg came off.

His suit gave him some updates, informing him of the breach in the armour and the fact it had registered a high-intensity laser attack. All Antii knew was agonizing, blinding pain thrumming through every inch of his body. He only felt it for a moment before painkillers slammed into his veins and the armour's systems sealed off his wounded leg.  He rolled onto his front and pushed himself up on both hands. All he felt now was rage. Spitting, frothing rage.

"Missed," the heavy suit said with nonchalance, clearly not understand just how angry Antii was. The laser vented red hot gas, sizzling the paint from the side of the heavy suit. There was a window. Antii struck. Digging his hands into the ground he clawed along as fast as he could, bracing his one remaining leg down at the last moment and shooting forward. He caught the heavy suit entirely off guard, lunging in up under the shield and catching it around the middle.

"Get off!" The heavy suit said as it staggered back, trying to dislodge the Razem 5/7 now wrapped around it and failing miserably. Its arms were just too big and too heavy to be able to get close enough. Antii, screaming into his helmet, dug his fingers into the flexible midsection of the heavy suit. The KMU hummed with power as it channeled force into Antii's fingertips, armour-plating and high-tensile carbon weave buckling and tearing underneath his grip as he dug in deeper.

"Stop!"

Antii did not stop. He pushed his hands in further, feeling servomuscle and circuitry parting and breaking. The heavy suit shuddered and wrenched to the side, but Antii was hanging on too tight. He was laughing now as well as screaming. He wanted to see how much more he had to go before he met flesh.

The heavy suit threw the shield off the to the side and leapt backwards, falling over in the process. Antii flipped over but held on, landing bent over backwards dangling over the faceplate of the heavy suit. A massive gauntlet closed around his remaining leg and pulled, stretching him taut. The Razem 5/7 warned Antii that he had a gun pointing into the small of his back. His fingertips were touching the undersuit of the his opponent. He knew this. He could almost feel the warm blood and weak skin beneath. He gave his KMU a little kick, sending out a spear of condensed force just as he was shot in the spine.

-

According to the internal clock of the suit, four minutes and thirty-three seconds had passed. Antii was staring at the sky. He could feel nothing. Beforehand he hadn't been able to feel pain or exhaustion because he’d been in the heat of the moment. Now he was numb. Everything was being blocked out. The suit - what was left of it - was the only thing keeping him alive. He knew this. He also knew that he was now missing everything from the waist down. He rolled over onto his front and looked up.

Everyone was dead. Not a single person was left standing. His fight with the heavy suit had killed everyone who hadn't run away. Shrapnel, stray shots, lethal pressure waves from the KMU and other trifles that wouldn't bother a suit had been the death of all non-protected persons present. Antii couldn't tell if any of the several sad, lumpen red piles of remains were his Lord's children. He hoped they had gotten away, but a tiny, blasphemous, shameful part of him knew he had failed. Even equipped with divine vestments he was still too broken to succeed. He let out a racking sob which became a painful cough as his failing body started to catch up with him.

Then someone else coughed. He looked up. The huge bulk of the heavy suit was still lying where it had fallen, but it was twitching. Painfully, Antii dragged himself over and up onto it. The thing was more-or-less intact, but the wound Antii had given it was obvious and grievous; a great, bloody hole punched almost clean through the middle all the way through to the ground. Antii could see organs, but he couldn't really tell them apart. Still though, just like him, the wearer of the suit was alive.

Weakly, they tried to reach up for Antii but they were clearly too far gone and their arms fell back. The most horrendous wheezing sound came out from the speakers on the chestplate as the wearer tried to say something. It was only sucking, gargling breaths at first, but words came, eventually:

"You...you think...you think you can just start your own...little...theocratic idyll you...you..." they struggled with every syllable. Antii did not understand. Or care. He had failed. His Lord was dead. His children were dead or gone. The one opportunity Antii had had in his life for redemption or to prove even an inkling of worth was gone. He was going to die soon with nothing to show for it. He wasn't going to stand to hear another hateful, heathen word.

Reaching down, he took firm hold of the heavy suit's helmet. He dug his fingers in. The KMU was faltering and sputtering but was still active enough to give him the strength he needed. The reinforced faceplate of the heavy suit resisted the vast pressure being applied, but gradually cracks started to appear as Antii's grip tightened. The words from the heavy suit had stopped. It was just screaming now. So much screaming the speakers popped and squealed.

With a firm hold on their head, Antii pulled. He kept pulling. The struts and cables that held the helmet in place gave out one after another. They gave up a good fight, but they couldn't hold out long enough and with a horrible tearing sound the helmet came free of the suit, the head within coming free from the body inside. The screaming stopped. Antii tossed the helmet aside and collapsed as his body finally broke. A final dose of chemicals shot through him and he gasped.

At the very least, he thought as his heart stopped, he had made them be quiet.

[raystart]

After the Nightmare Project: Lessons Learned

We’ve all had at least one: a nightmare project that you wish you could walk away from.

Once you’ve abandoned the idea that it’ll end up in your portfolio, you just want to get that final approval, send off the invoice, and never think about it again. We asked a few seasoned design pros to think about it one more time. (Sorry guys.) Why? Because those projects are the ones that teach us the greatest lessons – the ones that lead to revamped creative briefs, new paragraphs in your proposals, and updated clauses in your contracts. Sometimes they even lead to entirely new approaches to shaping your portfolio, sizing up new clients, and deciding when to say “No.” 

Avoid “small” changes that create a ripple effect of additional work.

“Elefint was just a few months away from launching a new brand and a website for a nonprofit focused on end-of-life care when the client switched the project management role from a contractor to a newly hired staff member. Unfortunately, a lot of our efforts and insights were lost in the transition, and the client started asking for “small” changes that inevitably created a ripple effect – from logos to the website, animations to print collateral. Each request led to weeks in delays – waiting on feedback, explaining our rationale for the originally approved design, revisiting initial strategy. A project we thought would take 12 months ended up taking more than two years.

Knowing there had to be a more efficient way for us to work, I started experimenting with design sprints for our other nonprofit clients, to eliminate the inefficiencies that come with long feedback loops and broad scopes of work. Design sprints have allowed us to experiment with what’s possible within the context of building out complex digital projects and brands, and to work more iteratively and collaboratively with our clients, with timelines that are both practical and motivating. Working in shorter increments helps our team and clients stay focused, energized, inspired, and, most important, aligned throughout the lifeline of the project. We now integrate our “Design Sprint for Social Good” methods into the design process, and we’ve launched 10 complex digital projects in less than one year. As a small team, that’s a tremendous feat.”

— Gopika Prabhu, Founder + Creative Director, Elefint, San Francisco

Show a healthy skepticism toward new and experimental technology.

“As an interactive designer at the Newseum, I designed touch-screen experiences for museum exhibits that teach visitors about their First Amendment freedoms and how news is made. This was years ago, when smartphones were just taking off, tablets were just entering the retail market, and pinch-to-zoom was a new behavior. On the eve of this digital boom, our in-house multimedia team had a unique opportunity to create a gallery that highlighted digital media and its effects on how we receive and consume news. Our team controlled the content and developed the software, and an external partner promised to provide the hardware: the latest in multiscreen surfaces and projection technology.

We were creating bespoke designs for screens that didn’t yet exist, weren’t available for testing, and wouldn’t be out for months. But our tech partner couldn’t nail down the specs. They often reported changes to the monitors’ and projectors’ aspect ratios and resolutions, rendering our interactives and graphics unusable until we adapted our files. This sounds ridiculous now – because everything is flexible, adaptive, and responsive – but back then, this wasn’t an option.

We had to expect the unexpected. We limped through development and recreated (and recreated and recreated) the files—never knowing if they were right until we finally installed them onto the hardware in the gallery. I learned that with any new and experimental technology – whether it’s hardware, software, a new tool, pattern, or process – it’s okay to feel wary. Use that healthy skepticism to look beyond the current deliverable, to evaluate where the product might show up once it outlives its current platform. Making design into a flexible system expands its utility and its reach, which is especially important across products. Devices, interaction patterns, communication, and tech change faster than our understanding of them. And that’s okay.”

— Libby Bawcombe, Senior Visual Product Designer National Public Radio, Washington, D.C.

Clarify what exactly you are there to do.

“I was commissioned by an independent animation and advertising company to produce, or help produce, a very short film. It was supposed to be between two and three minutes long, and I had just three weeks to do it. I opted to be in-house rather than work at my own studio as, I thought it would make communication easier. On this front, I was wrong.

Initially, I had gone in for an interview where I was referred to as the freelance “talent.” (It was a little uncomfortable, and vague, to be referred to that way and not as the visual stylist or creative director or whatever my role was meant to be.) I started the next day, never having discussed the official job title: I was just given a loose concept (make the animation look like a Charley Harper painting) and no script. 

I was completely left to my own devices, with small deadlines at the end of each day. I should have taken the initiative and spent the first day figuring out storyboard, style guide, transitions, and color scheme, but I was too stressed and confused to do so. I had no idea that I was in charge of the entire direction of the project. It got a bit better in the weeks ahead as I navigated my way in the dark. 

Needless to say, I wasn’t proud of the final outcome, or of my performance as a freelancer. I should have been more vocal about needing clear signposts. In the end, I was credited as the illustrator, although I had ad-libbed the entire direction and narrative. The animation firm was fantastic but I think just as confused as I was about my role. I realize now that I shouldn’t have winged it, but clarified what I was there to do from the get-go. This is something that I now try to do with every new freelance commission.” 

— Jon Jones, Illustrator, Port Elizabeth, South Africa

When a brief is conceptual, seek client feedback early on.

“When the offer came in last June, I was all in. It was a commission for a governmental organization – a rather conceptual brief but with a generous budget. That’s a lethal combination, as one doesn’t want to disappoint and one definitely wants to please. What followed was a couple of rather stressful weeks and an ample dose of frustration. Both were completely avoidable in hindsight. 

The brief was to create a series of illustrations that clearly described the process of patenting in the science industry. I had to design images for a three-metertall, very narrow banner, which would be displayed at a conference. As I was dealing with American clients, most of my talks and feedback happened over Skype. This was the first part of the nightmare: Skype combined with a temperamental internet connection, conflicting time zones, and muffled accents is a tricky thing to navigate, and can add to unnecessary stress. I’ve learned to stick with emails.

The nightmare got worst. I should have pushed for image revisions at an earlier stage: The client decided to make small changes after I had everything in place and locked down in a very tight layout. That added massively to the workload. I formed a very close relationship and personal attachment to my color choices, too, but when the client at the very last minute decided we should go with murky, corporate colors instead of my usual palette, I said okay even though I didn’t agree. Lesson learned.

Through this experience, I realized that even if it’s a big client, it’s still just a bunch of humans trying to come up with a decent solution to the problem at hand. For the time that you’re working together, you are a member of the team and should act like one.”

— Martina Paukova, Illustrator, Berlin

Creative projects need creative people in the room.

“A sister agency had asked my team to work on a massive experiential project for a meteoric-hot tech and transportation brand in San Francisco. And since my chief creative and I had the requisite sleeve tattoos and hipster facial hair, we were to lead the creative elements of this multimillion-dollar campaign. But on the day of the kickoff meeting, I chose to ignore the first red flag: The client hadn’t invited a single member of their own creative team: just the head of procurement, a couple of mid-level producers, and an account lead with two months on the job.

For the next four hours, not one minute was spent talking about the idea, let alone the intent of the idea. It was all about rate cards, travel plans, and the office politics required to get things done. Of course, this made sense coming from a tech company hell-bent on maximizing valuation. But this laser focus on margin and production timelines meant that the creative had to fit into increasingly oppressive and consequential parameters. Which proved to be a disaster.

Everything we presented was judged on feasibility and budget, not creativity or effectiveness. When we proposed a visual identity system for the campaign, the people in the room didn’t feel qualified or empowered to give direction. As the kickoff date approached, we got farther and farther behind. Ultimately, the campaign was pulled. The work went “in-house,” which is where it always belonged.

Yes, this is a clichéd story of how procurement and creatives don’t mix. But there’s truth in the cliché. If budget decisions require a leader, then creative decisions do, too, If you don’t see another creative when you walk in the room, run in the other direction.”

— Max Lenderman, Founder + CEO, School, Boulder, Colorado

Money matters, but how much? 

“Since abandoning computer science to pursue commercial art as a living, I’ve struggled to balance the creativity of my dream job with work that’s comfortable, safe, and lucrative. The biggest frustrations and creative blocks that I crash into are the ones I could have avoided, if I’d just followed my internal compass. 

A few years back, a particular style of mine gained attention, and the commissions rolled in, at three or four times the fees I’d accepted a year earlier. I was happy to be getting the work, but something was off. I wanted to be doing work that was more colorful, fun, and whimsical than the things I was being hired for. I thought the money would keep me entertained, but I was wrong. Projects started becoming headaches for me: I’d put things off, I’d get stressed out, and I’d start to think I couldn’t complete the job. My clients were happy, but I was bored, and worried that I had “broken” my creativity and, in turn, my career.

The solution was simple: Put in the time to do what you really want, even if it requires a financial sacrifice. I started consciously turning down work that didn’t excite me, and spent any leftover time focusing on side projects that aligned with my creative goals. Soon, the paying work poured in again, and I noticed that my favorite clients usually discover me through my personal work, which we adapt for their commercial pieces. Now I know I have to constantly fine-tune my work to be sure it’s taking me where I want to go, rather than taking the easy path. Heck, I’ve already decided to throw job security to the wind by being a freelance illustrator – why start wearing a safety belt now?”

— Kirk Wallace, Illustrator, Boston

When outsourcing jobs, be crystal clear about what you’re requesting.

“Some years ago we were hired to design an exhibition. It was located in an old building (not your average white cube,) and we had commissioned a special orange carpet for the floor. It was going to be installed the morning of the show, right before the shelves and sculptures were brought in. We were working on a very tight schedule! 

When we arrived on the day of the opening, the carpet had been installed but the carpet installer had already left. What we found was the most sloppy, bubbly orange carpet that we had ever seen. When we called to ask for an explanation, the carpet installer told us that he thought the floor was going to be used for a one-night Queen’s day party instead of an exhibition. (Queen’s day is our national holiday, and orange is the national color.)

The exhibition content was about to arrive, so we had to think and act fast. We freestyled a new design by cutting up the orange floor into small graphic shapes that we combined with the original tiling. We barely made it by the time the shelves and sculptures were brought in, but it looked better.

The carpet installer had had no idea what the floor was actually going to be used for, and we should have briefed them better. In the end, though, we learned to surround ourselves with a network of creatives and suppliers that we really trust.”

— Jaron Korvinus, Cofounder of Studio Spass, Rotterdam

Red flags won’t simply go away.

“Soon after I founded my design studio, a California chocolate company asked me to create a logo for their growing business and storefront. Given my slim portfolio from a previous in-house design position, I was eager to collaborate with a food brand on the West Coast. But my overt optimism made me blind to a few red flags – the client’s small budget and their unwillingness to hand over the creative reins – which ultimately doomed the project.

I pride myself on being able to understand and translate obscure client feedback, but in one of the early reviews, the client asked for the logo to “express more devotion,” words that baffle me to this day. I designed countless concepts and made countless revisions because I was determined to make the client happy. I even asked the client to share examples of other “devoted” logos, which was no help at all. For the first time ever in my design career, I was at a complete loss, utterly defeated. What’s worse, my contract had failed to note a maximum number of revisions or the fact that the deposit was nonrefundable. I gave it my all, lost thousands in unbilled hours, and endured weeks of self-doubt. And my other work suffered for lack of attention. Eventually, we parted ways and the client had a family friend create the logo, so you can imagine the final result.

Fast-forward to today. I still pour my heart and soul into absolutely everything I create, but all of my proposals and lawyer-looked-over contracts help avoid failure or confusion. Now I show clients a few rough concepts early on (rather than perfecting dozens of options) and my contracts clearly note that each project includes two revisions, with additional rounds charged at an hourly rate. With these processes in place, I’m able to demand a fair wage for my talents and time.”

— Kelsy Stromski, Founder + Creative Director, Refinery 43, Massachusetts 

Have a strong understanding of the brand’s product story.

“A year after I completed MAX100 (a personal project illustrating the Nike AirMax 1 in 100 different ways), Nike asked me to use a similar approach to create 30 shoes for their Nike Air Reinvented campaign. Nike was a brand I had long admired and a bucket-list client, so I was excited and nervous. But I assumed the work would follow the same loose, stream-of-consciousness approach inspired by whatever mood hit me at the moment.

When I presented my first round of sketches, it became pretty clear that this was a very different animal. As you can imagine, a brand of Nike’s size had a lengthy and complicated approval process, which meant dozens of my ideas were rejected because they didn’t fit into the product’s brand story. In my personal work, I had generated three to five pieces a week, but this time I had completed only two illustrations after nearly a month. At that rate, I’d never complete the project on time.

I recognized that I had to abandon my early expectations and shift my way of thinking to become much more strategic: Each illustration had to tell the story of the product. Nike’s internal team was incredibly helpful in arming me with detailed background information, and the approval process started to accelerate. It was a grueling project, but by the end I could look at each piece and know that the work was better because of the focus on story and the feedback that helped shape the work.

Here’s what I learned: My success as an independent designer is built on a foundation of personal projects, which have created dozens of opportunities for client work. But once you get that opportunity, you have to be prepared to adjust your thinking. Work to maintain what makes you unique in the process, but find out how the client operates and what they respond to, then fold those ingredients into your process. Be prepared to let their direction and feedback make the work better.”

— Matt Stevens, Designer + Illustrator, Charlotte

Just because something worked for one brand doesn’t mean it will work for the next.

“I’m currently rebranding a local flower shop for a client with enviable taste. Our kickoff meeting went great, but I soon realized that I hadn’t asked the right questions. The owner said she loved a clean, abstract logo I’d created for a local coffee shop, but I eventually realized she liked the brand and feel of the coffee shop itself more than the minimal mark.

I shared mood boards, and then the first round of logos (with far too many options), and the response was kind but somewhat tepid. A month later, the client finally shared specific feedback, and I revised the logos she liked best, although she wasn’t thrilled with any of them. Another month went by before she told me, “We need to start over – here’s an example of what we really like.” The sample made perfect sense, but it felt derivative and cliché; I was dejected and took it personally.

After I thought about the process for a long time, my frustration slowly turned into empathy. It was my fault. I didn’t get to know their brand: The logos I’d shown were cold and impersonal – the exact opposite of a flower shop. I’d been lazy and arrogant, thinking, “I’ll just do what I did for the coffee shop, and they’ll hoist me on their shoulders in a victory parade.”

So here’s what I’ve learned: Do your research up front, understand who the client is, and communicate expectations clearly. And when you inevitably get frustrated, try to put yourself in your client’s shoes. That empathy can lead to something unexpected.”

— Matt Lehman, Designer + Illustrator, Nashville

Creative briefs demand details, details, details.

“Years ago, my previous agency landed a web project for an East Coast client that runs a popular cycling event. We’d pitched them on designing their logo as well, but they chose to go with a local agency. So I started the project a little bummed about the lost opportunity.

A few weeks in, the client asked for daily email updates on top of our weekly phone calls. Requests for features that were outside our scope quickly turned into demands and requirements. Unfortunately, our proposal lacked concrete details regarding features, functionality, and timelines, so it’s not surprising that the client’s expectations went way beyond our own. Eventually, the client got angry, asked for their deposit back, and said they wouldn’t be using the site, even though it was close to completion. I had to talk to my boss about it (not fun) as well as their lawyer (even worse). 

The first thing I learned? Don’t take on projects you’re not interested in. Once we’d missed the chance to do the work we specialize in (branding and identities), we should have passed; taking on creative work that doesn’t excite you rarely leads to a great client relationship or stellar results. Second, I promised myself I would make every proposal as clear as possible. Sometimes I feel like a hack, writing ultra-specific agreements that suggest I don’t trust our clients. But that’s not the case. A crystal-clear scope of work allows for open and honest conversations with clients – a project where no one yells, cries, or gets sued in the end.”

— Michael Benjamin, Creative Director, Anthem Branding, Boulder, Colorado

Don’t shortchange your design approach in the interest of time.

“A few months after I moved West to take a new position at a small studio in Boulder, Colorado, we lost a crucial account. We quickly realized that we needed a new identity and website to separate ourselves from previous leadership challenges and to reveal our new business model. To get it done quickly, we abandoned our typical design approach and skipped some key steps. I was tasked with the design deliverables, but I never had an opportunity to think holistically about the experience or collaborate with the internal team, since the leadership wanted to keep the brand reveal a secret. Instead, I went straight to the computer and wasted a lot of time, suffering in silence. Who was our audience? What was our message? What experience were we hoping to design? And where was everyone else?!

I took a step back, restarted the process, and insisted that two of the agency leads – a married couple – invest some time in the discovery and user experience. There were arguments every step of the way, secret talks about the direction, and clear disagreements about the new business model. In the end, the design came out okay, but the process highlighted misalignments on the leadership team, including the married couple themselves. Shortly after the design went live, the couple divorced and the studio went out of business. I wasn’t sure if I’d torn my new family apart or if the project was just another symptom of a difficult relationship.

The experience reminded me that the discovery and strategy process is essential prior to diving into any design deliverable, no matter how personal or painful it may. It ensures that we’re identifying pain points, solving the right problems, and capturing the full story that will lead to a more compelling design and, in the end, more customers.”

— Sumiko Carter,  Creative Director,  Gorilla Logic,  Boulder, Colorado

Chuck the calendar and embrace the stress.

“I’m a very chaotic guy. I procrastinate. I don’t ever check my calendar. Every deadline that seems a long way off quickly and suddenly becomes a very short deadline. I‘ve tried over and over again to organize myself but it’s never been very productive. One particular commission was especially frantic. It was a lettering piece, for which I had to draw 19 letters out of landscapes, people, machines, cities, cars, and other doodles. I completely forgot that I had to do it and then suddenly realized my oversight the night before the delivery date, when I got a reminder email from my agent. I had it in my calendar, but I never looked at my calendar.

I was busy with two shows in Düsseldorf, Germany, at the time and I had a few other commercial commissions on the go, so I stayed up all night sketching and drawing to make the deadline. Luckily, in the end, the client was incredibly happy with the results. And so was I. 

What I came to realize – through this experience and many others like it – is that I need stress to be motivated and succeed. The things that I’m most proud are the things I drew on the day of a deadline. So you could say, in a way, that all my illustrations are nightmare projects. I need the nightmare: It’s my vital source of energy.”

— Jonathan Calugi, Illustrator, Pistoia, Italy

The client is the client, not the designer.

“Every project has its own level of complexity and comes with different challenges, though the nightmare project will always be the one where the client tells us exactly what to do. It’s always detrimental if the client doesn’t give us creative license and doesn’t trust us to do our job. 

Our error with these scenarios has been to give up and follow along with the client’s opinion and direction. Over time, we’ve learned to be more convincing and not to allow the client to be the designer. In the end, we want to create graphic design that makes an impact, but if the client is the creative director, then it’s hard to make something incredible. It’s also, of course, very important to keep clients happy and satisfied, so in these situations it’s often a tough balancing act.

To deal with these nightmare projects, we try to be honest. Sometimes it’s about showing multiple options and saying, “We could have done this, but here’s what you asked for,” making it clear which idea we prefer. In the end, it’s the nightmares that encourage us to grow.”

— Marissa Gutierrez, Graphic Designer, Anagrama, Mexico City