#I probably will insert fabric into the empty square but that is for some other time

[thehistoricalfrog]

Bobbin lace mat

[darkorderaf]

shake off your flesh pt. II

Here’s the second and final part! I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you like it!

Pairing: Evil Uno x OFC (could probably be read as reader insert!!)

Rating: M. It’s just filth.

Warnings/Content: Blindfolds, size difference, praise.

Word Count: 2,465.

(I don’t own the gif; credit to eggshellseas!)

She wondered what The Keep was like. She knew for a damn fact it didn’t look anything at all like the hotel she was so familiar with. How long had he been just down the hall? Would he have let her in if she knocked while the moon was still at its highest? That thought and those very similar burned through her as she scrubbed herself clean with restless hands. It felt so strange. All of it.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed the way Evil Uno seemed to gravitate toward her. Around her. When had it started? Had it been when she cleared her throat and pointed out that his mouth was bloody after a losing effort. It had made the teeth of his mask particularly intimidating and she had told him as much. She hadn’t seen him laugh before then. Funnily enough, she had wondered if the Dark Order was allowed to. Another thought she dryly shared with Evil Uno while her gloved hands carefully prodded the fullness of his bottom lip. It was hard with the mask but she made it work as he looked at her. Try as she might not to blush, she had. Like mad. Another laugh had rolled through him.

Why her, she didn’t know, but she did know that Mr. Brodie Lee’s tone was hard to doubt. If she kept overthinking it, she had a feeling she might burn her brain out. She looked at herself in the mirror. The fog of her shower distorted her image. Even then, she took in a deep breath. She would never find out if she didn’t ask and fuck, she wanted to ask.

The hotel hallway was thankfully empty as she walked down it, her steps muted by her slippers. She double-checked the number and squared her shoulders back.

One knock, then two.

Her stomach squirmed but she held strong. Held it together as the seconds ticked by. Had Mr. Brodie tricked her? She didn’t want to believe it but the silence had her doubting. She tapped her fingertips together and turned to the side. The hallway seemed longer. Darker.

The door opened and her head snapped back at the sound of her name. He was still in his ring attire, much to her surprise. The wraps around his wrists were loose and the black around his eyes was smudged.

“Hi,” she breathed out. The only precursor to the way her jumbled words poured out of her. “I talked to Mr. Brodie. Or, well, he talked to me. After the...What happened. And he said you wanted a-and that I wanted and well--”

She hadn’t realized she was shaking until his hand closed around her wrist and her nerves ceased. Or maybe it was because he was shaking too.

“Come in,” he said. His eyes searched her face. “Please.”

The door shut behind her and she looked. Evil Uno let go of her wrist and turned away from her. He began to pace, his hands behind his back. Her tongue ran along her bottom lip. He had something on his mind and she wasn’t going to interrupt. He stopped a foot away from her.

“He told you that I wanted you.”

Speechless, she nodded. He inhaled sharply through his nose and rolled his neck before he looked at her again.

“Do you want me?”

She held his eyes. Nodded once more.

"And you want me?"

Gently, her back pressed against the door as he came towards her. She looked up at him. He didn’t cage her in. He only looked at her. Any words she had up and left the instant he ducked his head to speak into her ear.

“Yes," he said in almost a whisper. "Do you trust me?”

She swallowed. Found the one word she was absolutely certain of.

“Yes.”

He parted from her for only a second. A piece of purple cloth wound around his fingers and he asked her again if she trusted him. Certain that she did, he brought the fabric around her eyes and gently tipped her head forward to knot it at the back. As it went dark, she reached out to him only for him to meet her halfway. His fingertips skimmed up her arm and goosebumps followed them. Then his hand was gone and she heard what sounded like fabric being dropped.

His mouth against her jawline, the slight coarseness of his facial hair against her skin, told her what it was that had dropped. His mouth pressed against her and her head tilted back as she gasped. He breathed her in as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her in towards him. Tight but not tight enough to hurt. Her tongue teased into his mouth and when he groaned into her, she swore she would never forget the sound.

With ease, he lifted her up and pressed her back into the door. His mouth never left hers as he guided her legs around him. She didn’t need direction to tighten them around him. Her body did it on her own. His mouth was persistent against hers and when he finally let up, he took in a heavy breath.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said against her neck, as if he murmured it into the thrum of her very pulse. A finger trailed up the warm skin of her chest that her loose shirt bared. She could feel the slight tug of her new necklace against the back of her neck. He kissed against the corner of her mouth and she pressed further into him. “This looks good on you. I had a feeling it would.”

He gently nipped at her bottom lip and when she smiled, he smiled against her. His laugh was quiet but no less deep.

“Maybe I’ll look better. Can I…?”

He effortlessly took them away from the door and instinctively, her arms went around his neck. The hotel bed bounced some as he set her down. It was odd. Not being able to see him. But the thrill that raced through her when his fingers gripped the hem of her shirt and started to tug upward distracted her. Fuck, she didn’t mind it. It wasn’t hard to imagine his eyes. She had looked at them so often, so deeply, that they were in front of her in spite of the blindfold.

He paused when she ran a hand through the hair on his chest. She continued up his neck before she cupped his jaw. The muscle of it worked underneath her touch. She hoped it was enough to convey what it was her mouth struggled to say. His hand briefly against her own told her that it had.

Then his hand was gone.

The clasp in the center of her chest popped open. His large hands slid under the loose cups of her bra. Blunt nails then smooth fingertips against her nipples pulled a gasp from her and he was there to swallow it. His hands squeezed her flesh for a moment before he guided her back against the bed. She stretched her arms overhead and she felt the bed dip by her knees as he swore. She heard a zipper and knew his vest had been tossed aside too.

One nipple was enveloped by the warmth of his mouth and she bucked up into him. She was a taut wire. Something on fire. Something so alive, she shook with it. And he had barely touched her. He chuckled as he pulled away and blew cold air against it. Her hand found the back of his head and as she guided him to her other breast, he went eagerly. His fingers pulled at the nipple his mouth wasn’t occupied with. Every sound she made pulled one out of him.

“Uno, please,” she gasped out. She was desperate for friction. His teeth gently closed around a nipple before he pulled away. His mouth trailed up her chest, her neck, before his teeth gently found her earlobe. Her legs tightened around him. The weight of him against her was incredible but it wasn’t enough. “I want you. I do. God, I do. Ever since I saw you.”

A tremor ran through him. He was struggling as much as she was.

“Me too. But how?” His rough was rough. “How do you want me?”

She found her mouth with his and returned the favor of gently biting into his bottom lip.

“I want this,” she said as she pulled away. Her thumb traced his bottom lip. Her hips pressed up against his. “Please.”

He moved down her body and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. He moved slow, one leg then the other, and by the time he licked a stripe along the inside of her thigh, she was panting. His lips pressed against her damp front for only a moment before he pulled off her underwear. Her hips rolled when he took her knees in hand and pushed them back.

She had seen how...active he was with his tongue in the ring but it didn’t hold a candle to the way he teased her with it. The texture of it in the dark had her nearly twisting. His strength kept her legs from closing around him and pushing him in further. It was infuriating. It was fantastic. Just when her frustration seemed ready to peak, he gave her what she wanted with a groan of his own. He slid one thick finger and then another into her. Curled them up as his tongue curled around her clit.

“Right there,” she moaned out. “You’re doing so, so good.”

The way his tongue rolled, the way his lips pulled against her, it was hard to catch her breath. She teased her own nipples, tugged and pulled. Her head fell back against the bed.

“I’m--”

He pulled away from her and she could feel his gaze wander up the length of her.

“I know.”

He dove back in and in the time of a three count, she came. She moaned loud, her body taught as he coaxed her through it. Lazy kisses trailed up her sweat slicked torso. With shaky arms, she lifted herself up to press up against the solid weight of him. She tasted herself on him when he licked into her mouth.

“I want to be with you,” she said. There was a power in the way he moved with her so that he was the one flat on his back. Her hands slowed their shaking as she carefully stripped him down to be as bare as her. Only once did she lose her balance and he was there to right her, her hand pressed to his chest. He breathed in when she wrapped her hand around him and lightly squeezed. His hips bucked up into her hand. “One with you. Fuck, where did you come from? I want all of you.”

He murmured where he kept his condoms and took in a heavy breath as she slid one onto him. Blindfolded, she moved slowly. Carefully. Ghosted her fingertips across where she wanted to go. Each time, he shuddered. He helped her as she came to kneel over him, his fingers laced with hers. Slowly, she sat down on him and moaned as he started to press in. A light choking sound wheezed out of him and she smiled, her teeth sunken into her bottom lip. Once her hips were kissed fully against his, she slightly wound her hips. His free hand flew to grip the meat of her thigh.

The sound he made when she began to rise and fall against him was incredible. She nearly came again the instant she had heard it. He was ruthless, conniving in the ring, but with her, he moved in tandem. Didn’t push, gladly took a part in what she was willing to give. Rolled with her as she did. The Dark Order emblem thumped against her chest rhythmically as she moved. She had never been one for praise really, but as they moved together, she took to it well.

A hand came up to squeeze her breast.

When her legs began to shake, he turned her onto her back and set her ankles against his shoulders. The position sent a spark up her spine that had her shuddering against him. Each movement jostled a moan out of her and he kissed her like it was the only thing he wanted to do.

“You look incredible like this,” he panted as he moved within her. One particularly deep thrust had her toes curling and her walls spasming. “I think I was right but you, oh, the way you fucking looked up there. Never going to forget it.”

Her head fell back and slightly jostled the blindfold. She could almost see but then it was dark again as his shadow fell over her. The solid weight of him against her had her keening out for him. Of all things, she felt safe. His hips stuttered against hers and he slowed.

“I won’t--I have to come.”

“Come with me?”

At those three words from her, he was back at it, the sound of their skin against one another’s white noise that their moans periodically broke through. Her voice keened loud and low as her back arched. She tightened around him and bit into the meat of his shoulder as she came. He yelled out and buried his face into her hair as he pressed in as deep as he could. He slightly pulled out, just the tip inside, and pressed back in as her body spasmed. French was murmured into the moist skin of her neck when he finally slowed to a stop inside her. Was this what he had meant? About being one? Her head spun, her pulse fluttered.

His chest heaved against hers as they simply breathed together. He dragged his mouth across her jaw, her cheekbones. Then, it was on hers. Taking what little breath she still had left. He was careful to not collapse his weight onto her frame as he pulled out of her and she found she missed him. He rested his forehead against her shoulder and breathed.

“Stay with me?”

He picked his head up and pulled the blindfold off. She felt his weight press down to the right of her. The door was to her left. Even without the blindfold, the room was pitch dark. He must have turned the light off. Still, she knew his eyes. Could tell that his warm brown gaze was fixated on her. She turned on the sheets and curled into the warmth he offered as they caught their breath together.

“Hell, as much I am with them now,” she started. “I’m one with you.”

[welcometoels]

Session Sixteen - Ebeneezer’s Offer

The figure by the fire is offensive to the senses.  He looks like a pile of filthy rags has somehow grown a man’s face, sounds like a cautionary tale about the perils of overindulgence, and smells like an ash tray at the bottom of a midden.  Something about him doesn’t feel right, and the rest just doesn’t bear thinking about.

However, Ebeneezer Chaotic-Neutral gives all impressions of shooting straight with the group.  He welcomes them to the safety of his camp, but also makes it clear that there is more to the situation than may first be evident.

Snapping his fingers, he calls over a luxuriantly mutton-chopped Human called Harry.  With a beguiling shuffle, Harry passes out pieces of paper to the party.  Printed on these papers are artistic representations of each of the bipedal members of the party, with their names printed beneath.  According to the text, the four of them - “and also a Dog” - are wanted for the crime of grand theft at the Dragonhall Bank.

(At this point, the penny finally drops for Julius, who honestly had no idea what was going on.  Bless his sweet Otter soul.)

According to Ebeneezer, these sheets were intercepted on their way out of Monthend to the surrounding towns.  So far, they’ve been held within its walls, but who knows what would happen if word of rhe party's crimes spread further afield.

Fortunately, Ebeneezer has the power to put the record straight.  What he lacks, though, is the funds and the motivation.  Granted, he made a promise to a certain group - a group with whom Cailynn is very familiar - that he would keep them safe for the immediate future, but that period of time is finite.

So, Ebeneezer puts forward a proposition.  It just so happens that, in a neighbouring town, there is a certain artefact: A certain artefact that a certain contact would pay a certain amount of money for.  A very, very large amount.

Being a businessman at heart, and one with a loose definition of property rights, Ebeneezer is keen to fulfil this contract.  All previous attempts, though, have been failures.

This is where our team comes in.  If they can retrieve the thornéd helm of Thornhelm, Ebeneezer promises to use all of the means available to him to clear their records and ensure that word of their supposed crimes spreads no further.

The team confers.  Some are less troubled than others - notably Oddsock, who barely even appears on the warrant.  In a panic, Julius momentarily transforms into a chocolate Labrador, but returns to Otter form after giving it a bit more thought.

Though it quite rightly tests their morals, the adventurers agree to acquire the artefact, and they head off north-northwest to Thornhelm.

Throughout all this, Kadis has been very quiet, and it is while they are journeying that he reveals why.  Before he entered the mysterious doorway and met his new friends, Kadis had spent a brief moment in Thornhelm.  While he was there, he helped fend off a group of bandits who were hell-bent on stealing the very item they were on their way to take.

Naturally, he is feeling very conflicted about this.  Though this plan is the simplest way to resolve their current situation, stealing the item he was previously charged with protecting just doesn’t sit right with him.

Fortunately, an unexpected distraction arrives as they reach town - a distraction in the form of a Half Orc in a utility kilt bedecked with various carpentry tools.  Though Kadis has never actually seen this person, he knows who they are as soon as they speak.

Khoth is a former sorcerer, now living a simple life in Thornhelm performing odd jobs.  Back when Kadis was living here, they knew each other well.  It was a fraught relationship at first - Kadis being very persistent with his questions about magic and how it might relate to the ruination of his home town - but Khoth grew to like the chatty blind monk.

Khoth greets Kadis warmly, and extends that warmth to the rest of the party, inviting them to the Harp & Spider - a welcoming boozer that serves a delightful foamy nut brown ale.

After fetching a round in for the group - and pouring Oddsock’s into his special dog bowl - Khoth quizzes them on what has been going on with them.

This is where Kadis makes a very bold move - and one which results in some pained noises from other members of the team: He opts to tell Khoth everything, up to and including their mission to steal the helm.

Khoth is quiet for a moment, then makes it very clear that, while he will not stand in their way, he will not assist them in stealing from his adopted home town - this is as far as he is willing to go for a friend caught in a difficult situation.

He also offers occasional pieces of advice as the team outlines a series of bizarre, nonsensical, and sometimes outright counterproductive plans:

Suggestions of giving money to Ebeneezer in place of the helm are quickly shot down, since they don’t know how valuable it is (probably very valuable) or how dangerous the intended recipient is (probably quite dangerous)

Finding an artefact of equal value is also mooted, but rejected since they don’t know of any other artefacts

A few vague suggestions of “using magic” are bandied about, though without much certainty of what kind of magic

Just packing it in and returning to Dogwood was also on the table, which would have been nice right up until the warrants for their arrest arrived

Talion does have one bright idea off the back of all this, and mentions that he can create a replica of an item magically, which lasts up to three hours (though it is sparkly and plays music when you touch it).

Somehow, this becomes a cornerstone of the plan, so they leave Khoth in the Harp to pursue... something?

One little piece of intel they did glean from Khoth was that the artefact is being held at the church, which is very easy to find.  The tallest building by several storeys, the church dominates the landscape with its tall, square tower.

The doors are open, and nobody is inside the spacious main area.  The crew takes a moment to admire the stained glass windows, the simple pews, the sturdy door at the far end, and the statues of a female Gnome holding an apple.

Julius becomes quite excited by the latter, and inspects the statue to confirm that this figure is indeed a Forest Gnome, just like his dear Pa.  Oddsock is also drawn to the statues, though mainly because the apple resembles a ball.  He has about as much success in extricating the apple as he had getting the ball from the statue in Mansion de Mortesque.

Kadis takes a moment to make sure that everyone understands the plan.  It is unclear whether or not they do.  What is clear is that empty churches are very echoey, and all the chat and apple-grabbing has attracted some attention on the other side of the closed doors.

The bearer of the attention turns out to be a Gnome by the name of Father Sassafrass - at least, that’s what they think his name is, but it is impossible to be certain thanks to his outrageous lisp.

Kadis approaches and asks if the priest remembers him.  One might more reasonably ask if Kadis remembers the priest - it’s not a voice one would easily forget - but the question has been asked the way it was asked, and the answer is “no”.

It transpires that the current Gnomish occupants of the church are recently new, with the previous priest having left due to stress cause by the constant threat of banditth.

Now, Kadis goes for the same bold gambit that he attempted on Khoth in the Harp.  Nobody else in the team is entirely sure why, but he begins to tell Father Sassafrass all about their recent troubles, the task they’ve been given, and the bandits they are working for.

It is at this point that Sassafrass begins to panic.  The mention of banditth has put him into a tailspin, and nothing the group can do will stop him worrying about banditth and the people in front of him who work for banditth.

[DM’s Note: It is also at this point that I learned that, no matter how well you plan a session, and how much effort you put into your presentation, your players may just collapse into incessant giggling over a Gnome who keeps saying banditth.  I learned a lot on this day.]

Talion tries turning on the charm to help disarm the situation, but Sassafrass resists.  Instead, it takes the soft brown eyes and luxuriant fur of a Golden Retriever to help calm down a manically lisping Gnome.

So delighted is he with the nice doggy, he calls his companion, Sister Rilliriwae, to share in the joy.  Rilliriwae does not have a lisp, but does have her own challenges, and tells the group they can call her Wiwwi.

[DM’s Note: I learned A LOT on this day.]

Once everyone calmed down a bit, a discussion followed wherein the group outlined what would eventually become their plan:  They would take the helm, hand it off to Ebeneezer, go along for the exchange with the purchaser, steal it back from them (leaving a replica behind), then return the artefact.

Though Sassafrass is unthertain, and Rilli thinks the plan is vewy convowuted, the team manages to get them onboard.  The helm is upstairs, at the top of the tower, magically locked behind a statue of the goddess worshipped herein.  All they have to do is go upstairs with the golden apple - handed to them by Rilli - and say the name of the goddess.

The goddess’ name is Salathawaras.  After a few repetitions from both Father and Sister, Rilli writes it down for the team, and they head straight to the top of the tower.

Well, most of them do.  Oddsock takes a scenic route, investigating two rooms on the way: one open, containing simple sleeping quarters and nothing interesting; the other locked, and smelling faintly of musty fabric and soap.  Oddsock drags his little canine arse across the latter door, and joins his friends.

After inserting the apple and speaking the special name, they gain access to a mostly empty room.  In the very middle sits the Thornhelm on a little pedestal.  Over in a far corner, an oversized suit of armour keeps watch.

Something about this setup makes the team feel somewhat paranoid.  Oddsock approaches the armour and investigates it thoroughly, both outside - using his own doggy senses - and inside - using a Mage Hand.  Finding it to be a normal - if unusually large - suit of armour, he demolishes it in disgust, leading to calls of concern Sassafrass downstairs.

Now that the armour has been disregarded as a threat, Talion approaches the pedestal and eyes up the helm, while Julius makes thorough annotated notes for the future replica.  In a departure from the plan, though, Talion makes the replica now, and takes the true helm in a manner best described as ‘Raiders Of The Lost Ark’ style.

The switch is completed with panache, and nothing terrible happens.  Then, Talion decides to take the replica as well, for reasons.  Still nothing terrible happens.  Sometimes a pedestal is just a pedestal.

Back downstairs, Talion shows off his replica helm.  Rilliriwae is concerned about how sparkewwy it is, and Sassafrass isn’t certain if banditth would like that, but Oddsock’s charm gives them total confidence in the plan.  The party leaves, and Oddsock pisses on the door on the way out.  Another church successfully marked.

To celebrate a job well done, the team gathers at Cones Of Coldness, a nearby gelateria, for a round of ice creams.  Oddsock eats his while it is held by his Mage Hand, to the delight of some nearby urchins.

Suddenly, Talion remembers that his replica helm only lasts for three hours from the point of creation, so the group sets off back towards camp.  He then also remembers that he doesn’t actually need it yet, and launches it into the trees for a squirrel to find.

On the journey back, the group inspects the Thornhelm.  The helm itself is utterly mundane, but the “thorn” rising from it undoubtedly contains a lot of magic - specifically necrotic.  Oddsock tries it on, but is unable to channel the power.  He does look magnificent, though.

The team puts their heads together to try and understand what the thorn could be. After a lot of thought, and some consultation of Julius’ notes, they notice how similar it looks to the teeth of the undead beholder that they fought all those days ago.  Similar, but definitely larger.

Kadis’ face mask begins to twitch, and the tiny baby beholder wobbles forth through the air.  It runs its tiny tentacles along the tooth and coos softly.  Their suspicions as to the nature of this artefact are all but confirmed.

Arriving back at camp, they make the handover to Ebeneezer, who graciously receives the bounty.  Keeping his word, he immediately despatches two of his best boys to Monthend to begin the name-clearing process.

In the meantime, Ebeneezer makes the camp’s sparse facilities available to the group.  They are welcome to bed down, enjoy some freshly roasted two-faced pig, and otherwise make use of what is there.

Julius asks if there is any fish, and, though there isn’t, Ebeneezer points towards a nearby stream where the Otter can try his luck.  His luck is good, and he returns to camp with a fresh fish the full length of a helm’s thorn, plus a couple of pretty little stones.

Talion also has a productive moment, penning a new song about a certain someone.  It’s not as pretty as his previous compositions, but it is certainly passionate, in an embittered way.

His performance catches Ebeneezer’s attention.  The wizened pile of filth knows a thing or two about the woman currently known as Zanthia, as it happens.  He knew her many years and several names ago, back when she was Nora Stumbletoe.

According to Mr Chaotic-Neutral, she fell in with a band of thieves and tricksters known as Olidammara’s Revellers.  She made a reputation for herself quickly, for being very good at two things.  Nobody present sees fit to ask what those things might be.

After this little chat, Talion puts forward a suggestion - that he and his companions should take care of the handoff to the purchaser.  Ebeneezer rejects this immediately - his right hand man Harry will be on that duty - but, after some persuasion, he allows the group to accompany Harry and a few select bodyguards tomorrow morning.

Julius also has things to talk to Talion about.  For a while, he has had concerns about everything that has been going on.  His dear old Pa told him not to stray too far from the cottage, but since meeting with the group he has seen and experienced so many things, good and bad.

What is on the poor little Otter’s mind is - did his Pa lie?  Has he missed out on so much life?  Talion comforts his friend as best he can, as the group settles in for a night of fireside sleep.

Tomorrow will no doubt be another eventful day.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Making the Grade

For @fairladymorgana as requested for a Raffle prize!

Warnings: slight non/dubcon elements, rough sex, oral sex, masturbation.

This is (dark)Professor!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

For any other college student, Friday night meant the party was just beginning. But for you and the twenty other students in Warfare in the Twentieth Century, it was yet another class. It was the most dreaded slot in the schedule. Any professor was certain to have barely fifty-percent attendance and any student desperate enough to attend was faced with a weekly sense of FOMA. Really, for everyone, it was a bad time.

Well, except for Professor Barnes. Of the twenty-one students who hadn’t dropped his weekend-crushing course, sixteen of them were female; including you. It was a poorly kept secret why and you often rolled your eyes at the obvious dopey grins which spread across the faces of your fellow pupils. All along the front rows they sat, elbows on the small table attached to their seats, leaning forward as they admired every move made by the dark-haired instructor. You doubted their attention went so far as actually comprehending his words.

You couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. He was probably the hottest man you had ever seen in person and yet you opted to hide in the middle rows, slouching as you typed away. Your sole study buddy in the class, Colton, sat at your side, munching on Doritos as he listened. Despite his lack of notes, he had aced every paper so far and you, well, you were struggling. And behind. 

Even if this class wasn’t scheduled at the cusp of the weekend, you’d be pent up all until Monday buried under textbooks and academic journals as you struggled to keep stride with your workload. It wasn’t that you were lazy, merely overly-committed. You spent Saturday afternoons at the food bank volunteering, other evenings spent at the library as a an aide to first-years in the writing clinic, and the small amount of time left between classes you spent studying. College was not such a party for you.

Even now, rather than taking lecture notes you were typing away at the paper due Sunday night for that very class. You doubted you’d get it done in time but you were determined to spend every second trying to do just that. It didn’t help that you found yourself distracted by Professor Barnes’ voice every now and then, looking up to find him standing before the front row, describing in detail the tactics developed during the Pacific campaign. You should have been enthralled as it was a topic you actually knew a lot about but instead you were drawn to how his rolled sleeves bunched just beneath his biceps, nearly bursting through the fabric. Goddamn, don’t be like the rest of these daydreaming fools. You had a GPA you actually cared about.

And then he looked higher. His blue eyes catching your guilty ones as you tried to look like you had actually deciphered his words. Why the fuck had you chosen Monte Cassino? The Italian front was your least favourite. Whatever. It didn’t matter, you had to make this sound logical. You blinked at him until he turned his attention elsewhere, his hand drawing out the battle lines in the air. Describing the Japanese bunkers and the coral rock of Peleliu. You could read the slides later but you had to get this draft finished.

“Well, I think I’ll do you all a favour tonight. Go enjoy your Fridays a whole…” He checked his watched, “Twenty minutes early.” He clapped his hands together, “But remember you owe me. Next Saturday,” The class groaned, “I know, I know, I have a life to, you know? Anyways, open house in my office next Saturday. Midterm marks, comments, questions, everything you need to be successful in this course. Please, try to make an appearance.” He pleaded casually but you could here the genuine quality in his voice, “Ten minutes each. I’ll be there noon to five. That’s all.”

“Jesus, Saturday,” Colton grumbled as you were dismissed and he stood, draining the last of his Monster, “He must be desperate. I don’t even know any faculty who are here on Saturdays. The last time I was in the history building on a weekend, I swear I had a paranormal experience.”

“Well, I might just have to do it to get in his good graces. I doubt I’ll get my paper in on time.” You whined, “I should have dropped this when I had the chance.”

“You can’t abandon me like that,” He kidded as you walked down the steps, Professor Barnes was behind his desk packing up as a mob of his fans preened over him. They didn’t really have any real questions, just relative enough to justify their presence. You sighed and looked to Colton. “I guess I should wade into the herd and try to talk myself into an extension...I’ll see you later.”

“I can wait,” He offered.

“I don’t think so. With this crowd, I’ll be here forever. Besides, I know Devin’s waiting for you. Some sports thing tonight or whatever.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, some sports thing,” He scoffed, “Try to wait for them to disperse. They might bite.”

He smirked as he left you to wait for the gradual thinning of giddy college girls. You couldn’t deny that your professor was of the few attractive individuals among the faculty but you weren’t delusional. He was your teacher and by no means a love interest. College was not meant for romance but rather stupid mistakes to reminisce on when you were old and boring. Ha, sure. You had entered your boring phase the moment you stepped on campus.

Finally, the last pair of students left and you tentatively approached Professor Barnes. He raised a brow, the exasperation plain on his face. You hoped that because you rarely bothered him he’d take it easy on you. 

“Hey,” He greeted, setting his bag on his desk as if to communicate his impatience to be gone. “Y/N, is it?”

“Uh, yeah,” You smiled shyly, “I’m sorry. I know you wanna go as bad as everyone else but I just um, wanted to talk to you about the paper. I…” You bit your lip guiltily and looked down, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish on time.”

“No?” He said, his tone unyielding, “Well, you’ve known the deadline since week one so I don’t see how it should be a problem now.”

“I know, I just--” You looked back up at him and sighed. It was useless. “Okay, no. I just figured I’d ask.”

He glanced around the room as he thought. “Look, do what you can and hand it in. We can talk about it next Saturday at the open house. If it’s a complete disaster, I’ll consider a rewrite.” He looked down at you pointedly, “Consider.” He repeated sternly.

“Okay,” You nodded eagerly, “Alright, okay. Thank you.”

“We’ll see,” He reminded you, hooking his bag over his shoulder, “Now please, let me go home.”

You actually laughed at that and he ushered you to the door, closing it behind him. The two of you took different paths in the hallway and you let out a breath of relief as you turned the next corner. A little breathing room.

***********

Well, it wasn’t enough. It had been a week and you were still fighting to finish your paper, adding footnotes, adjusting format, inserting points you had completely glossed over. You had failed to hand it in as you saw the pathetic mess as barely worth the bother of anyone trying to read it. Instead you were going to get it right and beg mercy at the open house. Even if it took all night.

Which it did. You fell asleep as the sun peeked in your dorm window, your face across the keyboard. You awoke with a jolt, your screen with a dozen calculators sprawled over it. You closed all thirty-six and printed out your final copy. You looked at the time in the corner and your heart jumped. Shit! It was already five-thirty! You got to your feet, stumbling as you pulled your canvas jacket over your tank top, not even bothering with a bra; you would keep your jacket zipped up. You stuffed your feet into your vans, sweatpants rolled halfway up your ankles as you seized your keys  and paper and charged out the door.

Your sides were burning as you reached the history building and tossed yourself into the ancient elevator, bracing yourself against the wall as it slowly lurched upward. You stepped out into the maze of upper hallways and grumbled. You hated the way these offices were laid out as if David Bowie had stolen your baby brother. First you ended up at a set of seemingly forgotten washrooms and then by some records storage, and finally, you felt like you were on the right path; all the signs told you so at least.

‘Professor B. Barnes’ was etched into a placard pointing to the next hall. You turned the corner, hoping he had lingered to finish up his teaching work or maybe another student was overstaying their welcome. As you neared, you realized how empty the building was. And quiet. Colton was right; there had to be ghosts up here.

You heard a moan and it all but confirmed your suspicions. Was it worth possession to hunt down a likely empty office? The moan came again and you tilted your head. No, that was a human. It was deep and luring. You looked at the square clock on the wall; quarter to six. You crept forward, the door denoting ‘Prof. B. Barnes, M.A’. The door looked as if it had fallen open and you got closer and closer, the noise coming from within. Slowly you pushed the door inward, poking your head around and gasping.

The back of a leather chair faced you, a head of dark hair pressed against the top of it as it rocked and the moaning continued. Oh, fuck. It stopped as the small wisp escaped your lungs, giving away your intrusion and you dropped the paper as you turned to flee before he could turn fully to you. Apparently no one else had shown up and your professor had chosen to take advantage of it. 

Oh god, you’d just have to take the fail.

You weren’t so lucky as that. You were pulled back as your name bounced down the empty corners of the hallway. You turned back and Professor Barnes released you, his face calm as if he hadn’t been caught. As if you hadn’t seen anything. “You’re late.” He said. He held your paper in his hand, “So’s this.” He held it up.

“I know,” You said weakly, unsure what else to say. You certainly didn’t want to talk about what you had walked in on. “But...I’m sorry, I just, I worked so hard on it.”

He shook his head, looking at the title page of your paper as he flicked it. “Right then, let’s talk and maybe you can convince me.” He stepped aside, standing parallel to the wall as he waited for you to precede him to the office. You were torn between flight and one last grasp at a passing grade. You took the latter and passed him, wringing your hands as you returned to his office. If you acted like nothing had happened, then it didn’t, right?

He followed you, keeping a few feet behind as you sat in the chair which faced his on the other side of the desk. You quirked your lips as you waited for him, the door clicking shut as he entered. Shit. You clutched your knees and hunched forward as he rounded to the other side and sat, steadying your paper on the edge of his desk as he flipped to the intro. He sighed and sat back, letting it go as he slid it onto the desktop.

“I really can’t make exceptions,” He said, “I’m sorry. It looks like a well-written paper but it just wouldn’t be fair. Don’t you think? I mean, how would you feel?”

You nodded and looked down, ready to just leave. He hadn’t even given you a chance. Did he get off on making students squirm? Well, I mean he got off on something judging by his previous activity. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should--”

“You’d have to have a very convincing reason to make me change my mind,” He interrupted, staring at you as the corner of his mouth twitched. “So, why should I even read this?” He tapped the desk with his finger.

“I...I…” You stuttered, “I’ve just been so busy and I wanted it to be perfect. Between volunteering and all my other classes, which I’m also behind in, I just couldn’t...get my shit together, I guess.”

“Mmm,” He leaned back in his chair as he considered you. Still he didn’t really look mad. You rubbed your neck and he seemed please by the show of nerves. “And you didn’t ask Colton for help? You and him seem close?”

“We study together,” You explained, “But I mean, he’s not much of a help. He’s like an encyclopedia without pages. He doesn’t really write stuff down.”

“You see him often?” He asked.

“Uh, in class, sometimes we meet up at the library,” You forehead creased in confusion, “What does it matter?”

“So you and him, you’re not…” He raised a brow, “I mean. You’re both young college students, it only seems natural.”

“No, no,” You could have laughed, “Ew, no. He’s like a brother; the kind who puts gum in your hair and ketchup packets on your chair.”

He narrowed his eyes, pleased with your answer. He shifted in your chair. “It’s a big campus, there must be a guy.”

“I don’t have time for guys,” You huffed, growing tired of his interrogation. “Look, either you’re going to read it or I’m going to fail. Either one, I’d just like a straight answer.”

“Woah,” He braced the edge of his desk, standing up sharply, “I am your professor. Show me a little respect.” He leaned on the desktop, his tongue poking out and running across his bottom lip as he stared you down. “Take off your jacket.”

“Why--” He raised his hand in a gesture for silence, tilting his head in warning.

“So far you’ve not been very convincing so why don’t you put some effort into it,” He smirked, “Jacket.” He snapped his fingers and you stared up at him and gripped the arms of the chair.

Your mouth opened and shut without a response and you slowly reached up to tug on your zipper, pulling it down as the sound ruffled your nerves. You let it fall open, revealing the grey shirt which barely concealed your nipples. He touched his shoulders, a silent order to remove it. You obeyed, the process awkward as you remained in the chair.

He watched every move and you realized his eyes had strayed from your face, quickly finding the thin fabric of your tee. “I like my students to be comfortable with me,” He methodically stepped around the desk, looking down on you as he came up behind you, “When you’re in my office, I want you to relax,” He gathered your hair in his hands, “And I want you to listen.” He tightened his grip on your locks and pulled your head back so you stared up at him. “I know that’s not one of your better skills.”

Your face burned at his words. It was true that you rarely paid attention in his lecture but it was for good reason. One of his hands snaked around, spreading across your throat as he bent down to speak into your ear. “So, do you think you can change my mind or should I just mark this as zero in the books?” You gulped as his lips grazed your cheek, his breath singing you.

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” You asked in a whisper.

“Ugh,” He groaned, standing as he kept hold of your hair, his other hand playing with the neckline of your tee shirt. “I’ve been asking myself that for the last month. What do I want you to do? Hell, what don’t I want you to do?”

You were shocked. You had been certain you had barely been noticed past the flock of fan girls and yet it seemed the center of attention had kept all of his on you. He knew you sat with Colton and that you never listened. Well, it was easy enough for you not to notice as you were often halfway through a breakdown over your latest assignment.

“First, I want you naked,” He tugged your hair before letting go entirely, stepping back. “Stand and turn around.”

You rose and did as he said, his arms crossed as he waited and watched. You undressed one piece at a time. Vans slipping off as easily as they were donned, jeans unbuttoned with trembling fingers, slid down your thighs, tee shirt messing your hair as you shivered, your panties the last of your defenses. You hesitated before rolling them down, his gaze glued to your breasts at you bent to remove them. Thus you stood before him, bare and desperate for that A. And maybe something more.

“Stay there,” He neared but you were surprised as he passed you. You stood stalk still, listening at the sound of rustling paper and little clicks and clacks. He returned to your view and looked you up and down, his mouth slanted in a lurid grin. “On the desk. Turn around and on all fours.”

“Okay,” You said feebly and made to turn but he caught your arm.

“Call me Professor,” He squeezed your arm before releasing you.

“Yes Professor,” You uttered as you spun around.

You neared the desk, setting your hands on the cleared wooden surface before willing yourself forward. With one leg up, you were already exposed. The next and you were on full display, steadying yourself on hands and knees. You could feel the cool air along your pussy as warmth settled there. Rough hands scared you as they ran the length of your thighs, kneading your ass and spreading your cheeks for a better look at your pussy. You shook and he purred in approval at your reaction.

He pressed against your ass, leaning his weight on you until you felt his lips along your folds teasing you before delving deeper. You gasped at the first taste, the tip of his tongue poking at your entrance, your arousal spilling forth. He ran the length of your sex until he flicked your clit, the twitch it elicited made him snicker into your flesh. He dragged his tongue along your clit again, grazing it over and over as you pelvis flinched unwillingly.

“Ah,” You hissed, trying not to moan though it felt so good. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were letting your instructor eat you out for a grade. It was like some poorly produced erotica. You clung to the edge of the desk, pushing your back end high as the first whine escaped you, the buzzing blooming and spreading down your legs. Your thighs trembled as he grew more persistent, his tongue agile as it drew forth an orgasm. It had been almost a year since you had been pleasured by more than silicone.

Your breath was laboured as you fell to your elbows, reeling in the after waves. His hands snaked around your legs and pulled them back off the desk, your feet barely reaching the floor as you were bent over. You heard his fly followed by a sigh and a prod along your ass. He guided his tip along your skin until he reached your entrance, hovering there as his hand spread on your lower back. “Now it’s turn. What do you want me to do?”

You lifted your head, looking over your shoulder as reality broke through your haze. You pouted, mortified as you realized there was only one answer. “I…” You swallowed your nerves and forced out your voice, “I want you to fuck me, Professor.”

He smirked and pushed inside roughly, allowing you no resistance as he filled you entirely. He was bigger than you expected. You dropped your head down on your forearm as you let out a low growl. He thrust sharply, allowing a moment between each as you were jolted into the desk. His hand was still on your back, holding you down as he slid in and out. Your pussy thrummed and you murmured in delight as each thrust against your sensitive walls sent a thrill up your spine.

As his motion steadied and his thrust grew closer together, your hips crashed against the lip of his desk and he began to groan. His voice was foggy as he spoke, slapping your ass so that it stung. “Naughty girl,” *slap* “Handing in your paper late.” *slap* “I don’t give easy A’s in my class.” *slap* He gripped your hips, hammering into you as you helplessly bounced against the desk, a withdrawn moan rising as another orgasm shook you.

He pulled out of you, forcing you back and you stood on wobbly legs. He pushed on your shoulders until you relented and fell to your knees before him. You stared up at him, his cock hanging out of his open pants, the untucked tails of his shirt forming a v around the base. He looked to his length, reaching out to clamp your head between his hands and drew you close. “You gotta work hard if you want to pass,” He gristled as his tip slipped past your lips and you opened wider and wider with each inch.

As he entered your throat and met his limit, you slapped your palms against his thighs, gripping him as he led your mouth along his cock. You relaxed your jaw, keeping your tongue taut against his length as he bobbed your head up and down himself, his pelvis working just as hard as he fucked your face. Despite your gags, he did not relent, your nails digging into his flesh. He sank deeper than before as he groaned and you felt a sudden burst of warmth, his cum leaking down your throat as you did your best to swallow, afraid you would choke.

He didn’t remove himself until he was empty, the last drops of his cum and your saliva dripping down your chin. You leaned forward, holding yourself up on shaky arms. He put his cock back in his pants, zipped them up and tucked in his shirt. He knelt before you, his fingers on your chin as he forced you to look at him. “I’ll read it.” He smiled, his thumb rubbed your cheek as you panted at him wordlessly, “Five percent docked for late submission.”

[dynoguard]

NaNoWriMo: Return of the DinoKnights (Day 14)

Day 1 & 2 text is here.

Day 3 is here.

Day 4 is here.

Day 5 is here.

Day 6 is here.

Day 7 is here.

Day 8 is here.

Day 9 is here.

Day 10 is here.

Day 11 is here.

Day 12 is here.

Day 13 is here.

The mechanism turned, wheels within wheels, a half dozen nozzles spinning and weaving an arm into existence.

KYle stared at his new limb. The datatape in the medical kit held the designs for dozens of medical devices, prosthetics included. A few quick measurements and a questionnaire later and a sonic field held a fragment of gear in place as the fabricator wove a new elbow into existence. 

“I think I’m starting to feel better.” Kyle said. 

“You don’t have to watch every micron.” Brach said. “Take a nap, your new arm will be here when you wake up.”

“If we were home, I’d be growing, not building, the replacement.” Kyle said. “I wouldn’t be missing it in the first place.”

“No. You’d be paste.” Brach replied. 

“What?”

“I saw the feed. I saw what was coming.” Brach said. “This isn’t a choice between comfortable home life and weird alien future. It’s weird alien future or killed by evil meteorite. Weird alien future wins.”

“Even if its ruled by mammals?” Zara said. She was sitting on one of the storage crates that held material-cartridges for the printer. 

“Weird right?” Brach chuckled. “My money was always on the insects to take over when we blew ourselves up. They always seemed to want it more, you know?”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Zara huffed.

“Only the stuff that’s funny.” Brach replied. “And the stuff that really, really isn’t.”

“They don’t seem so bad.” Kyle said. 

“Really? With their flat faces, and tiny gnawing teeth and the oily string on their heads?”

“I didn’t say they weren’t ugly.” Kyle replied. “But they don’t seem hostile to me.”

“I-” Zara paused, then spoke. “Is it alright that I’m not alright?”

Both Brach and Ktle stopped, and looked back to her.

“I don’t think any of us are alright, Zara.” Brach said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Zara paced, her wide feet padding on the floor of the fabrication lab. “I wasn’t the only one that saw the eye, right?”

Kyle exhaled long and slow. “I saw it. Not how I wanted to meet alien life for the first time.”

“Did it-” Zara hesitated, wondering if she should say it out loud. “-talk to you?”

Brach and Kyle both turned to her. “Talk to you?”

“Not in words.” Zara said. “But when I looked into the screen it felt like it was looking at me, right at me. And I could feel, it made me feel its plan. It wasn’t words, it didn’t even feel like thoughts do.”

Brach walked over to her and took a knee to better match her height. He put a massive right hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

“I didn’t see it, or hear it, but I experienced that thing smashing into the ground and a wave of fire and force just smashing cities to the ground. The sky turned black and fire was falling from the sky. Things were coming off it. Horrible things. And where people tried to hide or fly away the things hunted them.” 

“Fly?” Kyle asked.

Zara stopped. She blinked and went over the events in her head again. “I said fly, didn’t I? I got the impression the people were flying, being snatched out of the air.”

Kyle scratched his chin. “It could be a form of telepathy. There’s been, I want to say nine, recorded instances of mental gifts since the database started. Were you ever tested?”

“I don’t want to be a Dinoknight so I didn’t bother.” Zara replied. “And I wasn’t wearing an Aegis so even if I have a rare gift I couldn’t use it.” 

 “Creature that size probably has a massive brain, even without the dinobond it might be enough for you to pick up on the electrical activity, even through the walls and atmosphere.” 

“Might seems like a strong word.” Brach said. 

“So I don’t have a background in mentology. All we have are wild hypotheses at the moment.” kyle clicked his teeth. “Maybe it was telepathic, in a way that let it broadcast, or maybe her translator picked up on some kind of subtle communication in the broadcast, like how sometimes you can tell if an octopus is hungry by watching its skin change.”

“Or it could be I had a mental breakdown. A stress hallucination.” Zara replied.”We have to keep that possibility on the table.”

“I believe you.” Brach said.

“So do I.” Kyle added in. “Not just because even if the experience was entirely in your head it was still something you experienced, but because of the flying people.”

“Explain.” Zara replied. 

“The Dactyloid civilization. Lets say you did communicate with the thing for a moment. We have a massive, space-faring life form heading toward this planet specifically. Maybe when it started heading this way the Dactyoids were still here, and that’s what it was expecting.”

“Or it wasn’t his first visit and you saw its memory of the last time it was here.” Brach replied.

“The big-brain flappers disappeared in a mass extinction event. “ Zara spoke, her tone shifted from one of the excitement of discovery to palpable dread. “Just like we did.”

A sharp ‘ding’ sound rang out.

“Neat, my arm is done!”

---

“This is so clawsome!” Linn was all but running through the lab. She and Jason were surrounded by work stations, tables and engineering equipment, all of which was strewn with armor in varying stages of assembly. The suits were made of metal, plastic and composite materials that Jason couldn’t identify by sight or touch. 

The tables and stools were all adjustable. Like everything in the building the lab was designed for beings of wildly different size. Linn used this to her full advantage, adjusting the cables as she went to suit her own human-like height. Jason recognized a few of the tools by obvious function, screwdrivers, wrenches, and rotary cutters were obvious no matter how large they were or how oddly shaped the grips were. 

“What are these?” Jason said, turning a massive breastplate twice as wide as himself around on one of the tables. A panel was missing from the interior of the plate and could see mechanisms that looked like motors and wires running throughout, several gaps matched parts laid out on the table. 

“Aegis Armor.” Linn said. “Powered exoskeletons Dinoknights wear.”

“What’s a Dinoknight?” 

“They’re the dinos with all the coolest jobs. Like my mom.” She said, idly slipping her forearm into a bracer to test the fit. “Some are the military, some do police work, some fight fires, some are astrosaurs.” 

“We kind of gave up on knights in armor when gunpowder was discovered.” Jason replied. 

“What fun is that?” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Jason said. “I don’t make those decisions.”

“The cool part is I don’t know any of these designs.” Linn said, looking around. She pointed to a yellow and black mass of treads and pistons that looked like a junk sculpture of an ape made from an earth mover. “That looks like a really heavily modified Dreadlifter 4, that might be part of a Claws of Life A-series. But these are all brand new designs, otherwise, 

“You said this was classified. Is it military stuff?” Jason asked. He was looking into a display case built into the wall. The interior of the case was made of a milky-white ceramic or glass divided into seven square alcoves, each about six inches wide. Three of the alcoves were empty, but the other four each contained a perfectly spherical  polished stone. Each had a chasm running through the foreward surface that revealed an interior of blue-green crystals which matched veins running through the unbroken stone.  

“Maybe.” Linn replied, her attention taken up by a the drawer of circuit-nubs and interlinks she was rifling through. 

“LINNORIX DEWCLAW NYCOR HORNE!”

Linn bolted upright, sending the machine parts in her hands scattering across the floor. “Mom!”

“That’s sheriff mom to you, young lady!” Cora pushed her way through the door, Sagan and Gloria following behind. Jason took in his first look at a Dinoknight in armor. She was twice as tall as his father, her sleek build still apparent under the shining blue and white armor that covered her from tail-to-neck. Her scales were tan, her eyes large and blue, her mouth beaked at the front and her head was crowned with rows of small white horns that grew into a crown of spikes that swept backward from the back of her skull. Unlike Linn she had no feathers. “You put down whatever it is you were touching and get over here this instant!” 

“Hey mom, we were just looking for Kyle to help him with his arm and-”

“And you assumed he would be in the room marked classified.” 

Jason was, at this moment, being squeezed by a hug from his father, his feet lifted off the ground. “Hey dad. We got lost.”

“You are in so much trouble.” Sagan said. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“What’s the big deal?” Linn asked. “We went exploring, we found important stuff, stuff we’ll need, like, the Mister Bite still works, so we won’t starve as long as its stocked. And this has to be useful right?” 

Cora took a knee to better look her daughter in the eye. “You left Kyle alone, and you let a human you don’t know see you and-”

“Kyle was working on calculations and said I was distracting him.” Linn said. “And, I got carried away after I made a new friend. I’m sorry, mom.” 

“That’s not the point.” Cora sighed. “This isn’t home anymore. This place is dangerous. I saw... I touched a specter.”

“You said specters aren’t real.” Linn replied. “Also, so does science.”

“I was wrong about that.” Cora tapped a small button on her chest-plate. A rectangular cartridge, the size of a pack of cards, slipped out. It was black, with a clear top panel that revealed two spools of glowing, hot pink tape. She inserted it into the nearest interocitor work station.

The screen came to life with the sheriff’s battle with the specter in the Science Tower One parking bay, as seen through her own eyes.  “This is why I don’t want any of us wandering off alone.” 

“Mom... you’re the first to capture a specter on tape.” Linn said. 

“By our rules” Gloria spoke up. “You get to name the species. Can you translators do Latin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if you hum a bit of it.” Horne chuckled at her own joke so someone would. “It’s a specter, why not just call it a specter.”

“Linguistic precision mostly.” Gloria replied. “We might encounter a slightly different kind of specter later, and we’ll need specific names so we know which one we’re talking about.”

“Like, tyrannosaurus rex or dracorex hogwartsi or triceratops horridus” Jason interjected.

“Dracorex Hogwarsi!” Gloria exclaimed to Cora. “That’s what you remind me of! It’s been on the tip of my brain since we met!” 

“The Dragon King of - Some nonsense word?” Cora replied, puzzling through the translator’s explanation of the term. “What’s a dragon?”

“A grand, mythological beast that breaths fire.” Sagan said. 

“That’s funny.” Cora replied. “So what do we call this then?”

“Spectersaurus hornensi?” Sagan suggested. “Horne’s ghost-lizard.”

"That’s fun and all but-” Cora retrieved her datacart and reinserted in her armor.. “-we’re still just standing around in a top secret lab that none of us have clearance to be in. I’m not comfortable with throwing those rules out just because no one is around to penalize us. It’s a matter of principle and safety and-”

There was an electronic click. Everyone’s heads turned toward the sound, their eyes falling on Gloria Anning, who was holding her phone at eye level. She tapped the screen, and there was another click as she took a picture.

“What?”