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50calmadeuce · 8 months

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Ch. 2: Two weeks and Counting Down

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

You steered the Expedition off the main road, guiding it onto the lengthy driveway leading to your home.

Jake looked around, his curiosity piqued. "Where is this?"

"We're on the driveway to our house," you explained.

As you continued, trees bordered both sides of the driveway, creating a secluded path. Gradually, the tree line began to thin, revealing fencing on the left side as the landscape opened up to your property.

Jake's eyes widened in amazement as the log cabin emerged into view. You directed the vehicle toward the garage, which automatically opened, allowing you to smoothly park inside. As you switched off the engine, the garage door began to lower behind you. Opening the truck's door, you were greeted by the sight of Chuck standing in the doorway to the mudroom.

Turning to Jake, you offered a gentle, "Welcome home." Then, you stepped out of the truck, and Jake, taking in his surroundings, opened his door to follow suit.

In his early to late fifties, standing about 5'8" tall and dressed in Wrangler jeans paired with a flannel shirt, Chuck approached the Expedition. His white hair was just visible beneath a well-worn baseball hat. As he neared, he announced, "Dinner's ready, Y/N."

"Thanks, Chuck," you responded with warmth in your voice. Turning to facilitate the introduction, you said, "Chuck, meet my husband, Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Jake, this is Chuck." You made the introductions as Jake walked over to join you.

Chuck extended his hand, offering a respectful greeting, "It's nice to finally meet you, Sir."

Jake accepted the handshake. "Likewise," he said, his gaze briefly wandering around the garage.

"Chuck, there are 4 bags in the truck. Could you grab them and bring them to," you started, glancing at Jake for a moment. He met your gaze.

"The master bedroom," Jake concluded.

"The master bedroom," you repeated, directing your attention back to Chuck. "I'd like to give my husband a quick tour of our house."

"Of course, Doc," Chuck replied, ready to assist.

As Chuck busied himself with retrieving the bags from the back of the truck, you focused on Jake, seizing the opportunity to share more about the home he was returning to.

"The place is heated," you mentioned casually, then gestured towards a section enclosed by a barn-style door. "Over there's the workshop. Chuck's pretty handy with repairs, too."

Jake followed your gaze to the workshop area, his interest piqued. "That's good to know. I might have a thing or two that needs fixing," he said, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

You smiled, walking closer to the barn-style door to give him a better view. "We've got a decent setup. Anything from vehicle repairs to some basic carpentry. Chuck has been invaluable around here."

As you slid the door open, revealing the organized chaos typical of a well-used workshop, Jake stepped in closer, inspecting the array of tools and machinery. "Looks like you've got everything you need."

"Yeah, Chuck likes to keep things organized. Says it makes the work go smoother," you explained, watching Jake as he ran his hand over a workbench, inspecting the tools laid out.

He turned to you, a thoughtful look on his face. "I used to help my uncle in his workshop back when I was a kid. Taught me a lot about fixing things, making do with what you have."

"It's a valuable skill to have," you agreed, closing the distance between you two. "Especially out here. It's not like we can just run to the store for every little thing."

Jake nodded, his gaze lingering on a half-assembled engine on one of the benches. "Maybe I can help out around here, too. It's been a while, but I'm sure it'll come back to me."

"I'm sure he'd be into that," you said, catching the direction of his gaze which had settled on a partially assembled engine. "I believe that's from the tractor."

"Come on. There's so much more to see, and tonight you'll only get a glimpse of it." You began to lead the way towards the door that opened into the mudroom.

Jake followed you, his steps mirroring your own anticipation. As you reached the door to the mudroom, you paused, hand on the knob, and glanced back at him. "Ready?"

He nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Lead the way."

Opening the door, you stepped into the mudroom, a well-organized space that immediately spoke of a home lived in and loved. The aroma of the outdoors mixed with the scent of clean laundry filled the air. You pointed out the various features, "Here's where the magic happens after a long day's work. Laundry, pet wash station, and plenty of storage. That bathroom is attached to the guest bedroom."

Jake's gaze wandered over the room, taking in the practical yet cozy setup. "I like it. It's... homey."

"That door over there takes you down the back porch steps and out towards the stables," you explained, moving towards the sliding barn door that would lead into the kitchen and living area.

The kitchen, living room, and dining room flowed together in an open concept layout, imbuing the space with a rustic charm.

Jake surveyed the surroundings, visibly mesmerized. "You built and planned all of this?"

"Yup," you confirmed with a sense of pride. "It was a lot of work, but worth every moment," you continued, watching as Jake absorbed the details of the space. "I wanted a home that felt welcoming, where every corner had a story or a purpose."

Jake walked over to the dining area, running his hand along the back of one of the chairs before turning to face you. "It's incredible. It has warmth, character… It's a reflection of us."

You couldn't help but blush at the compliment. "Thank you. I hoped to create a place that felt like a sanctuary, somewhere we could find peace and comfort."

He nodded, understandingly. "You've succeeded. It's more than just a house; it's a home."

Chuck descended the stairs, interrupting the moment with a practical inquiry, "Are you ready for dinner?"

You glanced at Jake, giving him the opportunity to respond.

"Yeah, I'm actually pretty hungry," he admitted, his attention shifting from the house's interior to the matter of dinner.

"Great," Chuck responded, his tone amiable. "I thought, considering the nights have been getting chillier, we'd have chili tonight." His suggestion seemed to perfectly suit the cozy, rustic atmosphere of the house.

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, pleased with the idea. "Chili is always a great choice for a chilly evening." You smiled at the unintended pun.

Jake chuckled. "Sounds good to me. I can't remember the last time I had homemade chili."

Chuck nodded towards you, "The dining room is all set for you."

"Thank you, Chuck," you replied, appreciating his attention to detail.

He then shifted his attention to Jake, "Is there anything in particular you'd like to drink?"

Jake gave a casual shrug. "A beer is fine," he responded, settling into the homely atmosphere.

"Coming up," Chuck acknowledged, before disappearing down a staircase to fetch the drink.

"Come on. This way to the dining room," you beckoned Jake, leading him to another area nearby.

As the two of you entered the dining room, the ambiance immediately struck you. Candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow in the dimly lit space, creating an intimate and welcoming atmosphere.

The centerpiece of the dining room was a large pine table, accompanied by matching chairs, all contributing to the room's rustic appeal. The wood's natural texture and the room's subtle, earthy tones created a sense of warmth and coziness, enhancing the intimate atmosphere set by the candlelight.

"You can sit wherever you like," you offered, gesturing to the table.

Jake looked around, then asked, "Where do you normally sit?"

You pointed to a specific chair. "When family is here, I sit at the head of the table."

"Then I'll sit next to you," he decided.

As you moved to navigate around Jake, he unexpectedly stepped in front of you, prompting you to stop and look up at him.

"Y/N…" Jake began, but his words were interrupted as Chuck re-entered the room, prompting you both to step apart.

"Here's your beer, Sir," Chuck said, extending the beverage to Jake.

Jake took the beer with a nod of gratitude. "Thank you."

"Dinner will be served shortly," Chuck announced, ready to bring in the meal.

"Great, thanks, Chuck," you replied, appreciating Chuck's help and timing as you sat down in the chair.

The interruption had momentarily paused your conversation with Jake, but as Chuck went back to the kitchen, there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

You looked at Jake, sensing there was something he wanted to say. "You were about to say something?" you prompted gently, encouraging him to continue.

Jake took a sip of his beer, gathering his thoughts. "I was just going to say… it's really nice here. You've done an amazing job with this place. It feels like a real home," he responded as he sat down in the chair to the left of you.

You smiled, touched by his words. "Thanks, Jake. That means a lot. I wanted to create a place that felt welcoming and comfortable."

The conversation was interrupted again as Chuck returned, this time with bowls of chili. The savory aroma filled the room.

"I'll leave you two to catch up," Chuck said and left.

Jake's gaze lingered on his wife, a mix of emotions swirling within him. Guilt crept in as he remembered how upset he had been when she chose not to quit school after their loss. It was a difficult time, and the distance that had grown between them in the past four years felt more profound in this moment of reflection.

He sighed, his eyes wandering over the dining room. Despite everything, he couldn't help but feel impressed by what you had accomplished in their time apart. The home you had built was a testament to you resilience and dedication. It was clear you had considered both their tastes and needs in its design, creating a space that was both a reflection of your strength and a potential haven for your shared future.

Jake's internal struggle was evident as he continued to observe his surroundings. The home spoke volumes about the person you had become in his absence. It was warm, welcoming, and meticulously crafted—a stark contrast to the empty spaces he had grown accustomed to in his military life.

Realizing the gravity of his past decisions and the impact they had on your relationship, Jake turned to you with a newfound sense of understanding and humility. "Y/N," he began, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I've been thinking about everything...about us. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have, especially after...after our loss."

You looked at him, your eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and cautious hope. You could sense the sincerity in his voice, something you hadn't felt from him in a long time.

Jake continued, "I was wrong to expect you to put your life on hold. What you've done here, it's incredible. You've built a life, a home, and I... I want to be a part of it, if you'll have me."

There was a long pause as you processed his words. The pain and misunderstandings of the past few years hung heavily between them, but so did the love and shared history they couldn't deny.

Finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. "Jake, I've missed you. I've missed us. But we can't just go back to how things were. We need to rebuild, to learn about each other again."

Jake nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I agree. I want to do that. I want to understand you, to support you. I want us to be a team again."

You took a moment, collecting you thoughts before asking, "When do you have to go back?"

Jake answered, "I have two weeks until I have to go back."

Hearing this, you met his gaze with a determined look. "Then we'll make it the best two weeks we've got." Your voice carried a mix of resolve and hope, signaling a willingness to make the most of the limited time you had together.

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mariaofdoranelle · 4 months

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URDAD - part 5

Lonely TCGTATGG would like to pair up with congenial AGCATACC

Warnings: mentions of kinky times? Maybe light nsfw idk

Words: 1,4k

A little recap because it’s been so fucking long: Rowan’s the father of Aelin’s bestie, Imogen. He kept it distant until he found Aelin a job at his hospital. She works with the machinery and he’s allergic to technology so she helps him out a lot. They grew close. Aelin planned to break up with Chaol, the boyfriend she lived with, and then become roomies with Imogen. But then she finds out that Chaol and Imogen have been sleeping together and oh no she’s homeless now! Rowan feels bad and offers her a place to stay out of the pureness of his heart, but she fucks him to get back at her friend. Now they’re fucking like bunnies but no one knows yet.

Also, Anne Jausten is Rowan’s most treasured digital slide scanner.

Now let’s fucking goooooo

When Aelin invited Rowan to visit apartments with her again, she was expecting incisive views from a more experienced person, not incessant bitching that ended up being a pain in her ass.

She stomped down the hallway leading to her “office”—the medical equipment maintenance room—and Rowan followed hot on her heels, refusing to take the hint.

“I’m sorry,” he said for the millionth time. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Swear it.” She turned around and crossed her arms. “Swear on Anne Jausten that you didn’t act like this on purpose.”

He silently stood with a pleading look in his eye. Maybe because of the two nurses eyeing him curiously, or because he didn’t have anything good to say for himself.

What bugged Aelin the most is that she couldn’t understand why he was trying to sabotage her apartment hunting. Why would he bother to visit the places with her just to talk trash about them. Yes, she was well aware that those apartments weren’t near as nice as his fancy two-story home, but they were nice enough, especially when the deadline she was given to leave was so close.

Rowan had previously told her she could stay for ‘one or two weeks’, and in the meanwhile he fucked her numerous times. Aelin’s experience said it was time for her to go. Not that this kind of behavior applies to all men, but it does to most of them—especially the hot and chronically single ones, like Dr. Whitethorn.

Aelin unlocked her office—not quite, but it was a space for herself of sorts. The room was spacious and almost as well-lit as an OR, but it felt cramped from the amount of broken and old machines waiting for her to repair, along with a few lost causes the hospital had yet to discard. Rowan followed her inside, so she leaned against a broken anesthesia machine with crossed arms and said, “I have work to do. Are you explaining what happened or not?”

Rowan wrapped both arms around her waist and gave a string of pecks on her neck.

“Can’t we just forget about it?”

“No!” She immediately unwrapped herself from him. “You’re not touching me until you explain why the fuck you’re acting so weird!”

Rowan immediately took a step back, both hands up in surrender. Good to know. From what she’s heard, not all doctors in this hospital would.

“You’re serious?”

Aelin crossed her arms again and nodded.

A sigh. “I’m not lying to you. I really don’t like the apartments we’ve visited. I care about you and Fleetfoot, going from my place to that would be a huge downgrade.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed. Loudly. His confused expression made her want to explain things, but the hilariously of this took all the breath from her lungs.

“Rowan, I won’t be able to afford a place like yours at all within the next 10 years.”

“That’s why you should stay with me. At least for now.”

That took the amusement out of her face. Aelin’s thoughts were blank as she examined his apprehensive pine green eyes. There was only one chair because no one ever visited her down there, so she sat while Rowan leaned on a machine near her.

“You’re serious? Like, roommates till a better rent do us part?”

Rowan tilted his head, waiting for her answer—confirmation enough for a quiet guy like him. Still, things weren’t looking good. She probably could afford half the cost of his place, but if she paid for all that, she would barely be able to afford food.

She finally answered, “The only way I can afford my part of the rent is if it’s split based on income.”

Rowan bit his bottom lip in a poor-piss attempt to not laugh, which earned him a slap on the bicep.

“Aelin, I don’t pay rent myself. I won’t ask that of you.”

He was offering her a home for free?

Aelin never doubted she was a good lay, but holy rutting Mala.

But this was too good to be true. “What about house chores?”

“Not your concern. Just look after yourself and Fleetfoot.”

Aelin got up from her chair, rounding Rowan with her eyes narrowed at him. This was too unreal. He had to have an ulterior motive.

“No sexual clauses?”

“Not at my request.” His eyes darkened and he added with a suggestive tone, “But I can be very compliant if you add one.”

A beep interrupted their conversation—she was needed her in the ER.

Knowing what the sound meant, Rowan raised both brows in question. What do you say?

“I still don’t know,” she said while putting her lab coat on.

This feels too good, too easy. Aelin would live as a guest in his house, for free, after hooking up for a week and a half. What it he gets bored of her? What happens to her when he regrets it? What if he changes his mind after his daughter finds out and inevitably throws a tantrum?

As if reading her thoughts, Rowan took a step closer, carefully tucked her hair behind her ear, caressed her jaw with his thumb before he murmured, “I just want to see you safe and taken care of, that’s all.”

Aelin closed her eyes, a little overwhelmed. He might be the most thoughtful situationship she’s ever had. She tucked her head on his chest and chuckled, and he pulled her closer, letting her feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he caressed her hair.

Rowan slipped a strand of Aelin’s hair behind her ear, his carefree expression morphed into something else. “Will you at least think about it?”

Aelin tried to plaster a earnest face, but the corners of her lips kept tugging up. “You won’t make this easy for me, will you?”

His eyes widened. “I’m already making this as easy as I can!”

Another call urging her to go to the ER broke them apart.

Aelin took a step back and squeezed his hand. “See you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

It was hard to stop her mind from racing as she took the elevator to the ER. Rowan’s offer got more tempting each time she thought about it and, to be honest, Aelin didn’t want to stop the late-night sex followed by morning cuddles either, even if she knew this wouldn’t be permanent.

It’d be good. She could save some money for her masters while staying with him. Aelin knew her place, so falling in love with Dr. Whitethorn was nothing more than a fleeting thought in her mental ‘cons’ list about living with him.

˜˜

Aelin expected to give him her final answer over dinner like any other person does, but when he texted her saying he’d be late because he was needed on a late surgery, the idea she had was too good to pass on.

The sound of his car pulling up made her put her phone down and run to the kitchen, wearing nothing but his favorite apron.

Aelin sat on the dinner table between two trays: one with freshly-cut fruit—strawberries, mango, banana, cherries—and another with little bowls of more liquid stuff, such as honey and chocolate sauce.

The thud of the front door being shut. Slow footsteps. Her heartbeat being the loudest of them all.

“Baby…” Rowan carefully stepped into the kitchen, still with his scrubs on, bewildered eyes aflame as he studied her mostly naked body. “What’re you doing?”

“Accepting your offer.” Aelin crossed her legs and tilted her head in a saucy, near predatory manner while still keeping an innocent tone when she explained, “You said you want me to stay. I thought I’d earn my keep.”

“You know you don’t have to—“

Rowan cut himself off when Aelin slid just the top of his apron off her body, exposing her breasts.

He cleared his throat and corrected, “How so?”

Aelin gave him a sly grin, a little brownie point for playing along.

“Dinner.”

She thrust her chest out and suggestively dipped her middle finger in the bowl with the honey, eyes trained on him as she slid it from her upper chest to her shoulder.

And waited until Rowan’s brain restarted so he could lick it off.

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not-neverland06 · 1 year

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Broken Machinery

Pt. 6 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I’ve just got this weakness for one love interest calling the other baby while they’re injured. I can't help myself

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), shots fired, asshole government agents, me not knowing what android parts are called (everything’s getting called a bio component idc), nothing too bad honestly just one near death experience and existential crisis

Word Count: 3.3K

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

“You know, you really scared me up there.”

“How do you think I felt?”

You might have gone a little crazy, back there, you nearly broke a few toes beating the shit out of Connor.

It was like you were so blinded by your rage you just went into a trance. There was thirium eveywhere, Hank and Chris both had to grab you to get you off him. One of the deputies had to take him to CyberLife for repairs.

Serves him right.

Hank had immediately driven you to the hospital afterwards. Despite your incoherent garbling that you were ‘in tip-top shape.’

He was sitting in your room with you and for the last forty minutes since the doctor left, he had been staring into the coffee he got at the vending machine. Not talking, not looking at you, you had almost begun to believe he had passed out.

He was still staring at his coffee as he spoke. “I’m not talking about the roof. I knew I’d catch you.” There was an absolute certainty to his words, like there was no other possible outcome he would have accepted except your survival.

You wanted to be happy, wanted to feel like you had a dad that loved you and would risk falling off a roof with you, rather than let you go.

But you knew that he saved you out of a feeling of duty. He saved you because he couldn’t lose two kids. Not for any other reason. Sometimes you felt like he was more of an android than Connor.

“Back there, what you did to Connor,” your shoulders stiffened in defense. You didn’t need to hear that you look like a rabid badger when you’d gone after him. You already knew that you went a little insane. Hank raised his hands in defense before you could go on another rant. “Hey, I’m not saying the fucker didn’t deserve it, I’m just saying I was…. I was scared, okay?”

He finally looked at you now, and you almost wished he hadn’t. For years all you’ve seen was a vacant look or drunken rage.

Now, there was something there. Something real, and it hurt. It physically hurt to see the pain in his eyes. The raw grief and loss.

He seemed to lose track of what he was saying, caught up in one rare moment of actually allowing himself to feel instead of masking it with rage or drinking it away. “I feel like I lost you both.”

You didn’t know what to say. There were no words of comfort you could offer him. No white lies he would accept.

And there were none you were willing to give, because he was right.

He had lost you both in that car crash.

Amanda was waiting for Connor in a boat. It was clear he was expected to row her, his resistance at the unspoken order was surprising.

“I love this place, it’s all so calm and peaceful. Far from the noise of the world. Tell me, what have you discovered?”

Connor felt the need to keep the development in his relationship with you to himself. Amanda wouldn’t understand why he was living with you. She surely wouldn’t approve of his newly prioritized mission.

PROTECT Y/N

“I found two deviants at the Eden Club, I had hoped to learn something but…” There had to be a way to phrase this that she wouldn’t know the truth behind his actions. “They managed to escape.”

“That’s too bad,” she saw right through him. “You seemed so close to stopping them.” Connor chose to row rather than speak. “You seem… lost Connor. Lost and perturbed.”

Connor debated being sincere with her. If anyone had advice or could tell him what to do about what he’s been going through, it would be Amanda.

“I thought I knew what I had to do, but now I realize it’s not that simple.”

“You had your gun trained on those deviants at the Eden Club.” There was a forced replay of the footage at the club. It felt so invasive that they could reach through him and rip out what they wanted.

“Why didn’t you shoot?”

He chose to tell the truth, “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He knew he made the wrong choice immediately after. At least he hasn’t told her about you.

But, his doubt was concerning. His main concern should be the mission, now, he’s not so sure.

“If your investigation doesn’t make progress soon, I may have to replace you, Connor.”

He wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea of being replaced. If it was for the sake of the mission then he should be willing to do anything. Yet, the idea of being deactivated made him feel… wrong, almost angry.

“I understand.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“Something’s happening, something serious. Hurry, Connor. Time is running out.” The ominous warning left Connor with a feeling of pressure on his chest.

Hank kept tapping his foot and staring at Connor as he flipped his coin. You smiled at his irritation. “How do you do that?”

Connor stopped toying with the coin to give you his full attention. It was a bit intimidating when he stared at you full force. He’d seemed irritated this morning when you left the house to come to the news tower.

The stormy look on his face was still present and now directed at you. It was an effort not to pick at your nails.

You’d been trying to stop, everytime Connor would catch you he’d shoot you a warning glare before slapping your hands apart and taking them in his own. Although, sometimes you did it because he would interlace your fingers together. As pathetic as it was, the feeling of his skin against yours was soothing.

He blinked a lot before the look on his face lightened and he tilted his head, “The coin trick?” Connor demonstrated again for you, flipping it between his fingers. You nodded and he flicked it back and forth between both hands before Hank finally snapped.

He yanked it out of the air, “You’re starting to piss me off that coin, Connor.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” he put the coin back in his pocket. “I’ll show you later,” he paused before finally adding, “at home.” Your cheeks felt warm as a smile slowly crept along your face. He’d never referred to your house like that, it brought you joy knowing that you could provide somewhere comforting for him.

“The fuck did you just say?” Hank turned towards you, “Is he staying with you?”

You reached forward and clicked the button for the floor a couple times. How slow was this freaking elevator?

“Were you not aware of that, Lieutenant?”

“No I wasn’t.” Hank shot you a disbelieving look, you slunked your way behind Connor, avoiding both of their gazes.

“I found her passed out on her couch in a distressing condition. I’ve opted to stay with her and help her take care of herself while she heals.”

Hank looked around Connor at you, “You didn’t tell me you needed help.”

“You didn’t ask.”

You were the first out of the elevator. “Hey, Y/N.”

You took in the multitude of SWAT and CSI agents. “Shit, what’s going on here? Was there a party and nobody told me?”

Chris scoffed, “That’s an understatement. It’s all over the news, so everybody’s been butting their nose in. Even the FBI wants a piece of the action.”

“Fuck me, that’s the last thing we need. Some FBI prick trying to take over.”

Hank walked up to the two of you, “Now we got the Feds on our back, I knew this was gonna be a shitty day. So what do we got?”

“A group of four androids. They knew the building, and they were all very well organized.”

You glanced back at Connor and gave him a narrowed eyed look. “Well if I know anything about androids,” you turned around again. “It’s that their real good at getting their hands on things they shouldn’t have. They probably managed to download the building schematics.”

“Building plans or not, I’m still trying to figure out how they got this far without being noticed.”

“Maybe they had some help,” Chris seemed a little surprised at your words.

“What are you saying, they had someone on the inside?” You nodded absently at Hank's question as you took a look around the hallway where the deviants ambushed two guards.

It’s definitely the least violent, hostile takeover you’ve ever seen. No casualties, only a few woozy guards and one technician in shock.

Hank examined some bullet holes in the wall. “How many people were working here?”

“Just two employees and three androids.” You let Hank take over the rest of the briefing while you examined the evidence around the room. “The deviants took the humans hostage and broadcast their message live. They made their getaway from the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah, they jumped with parachutes. We’re still trying to figure out where they landed,” do they know anything? “But the weather’s not helping. If you want to take a look at the video broadcast by the deviants, it’s on that screen over there.”

You made your way over to the broadcasting room. Someone in a trench coat was standing in the middle of the room, blocking you from looking around.

“Lieutenant, detective, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI. Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Y/L/N are in charge of investigating for Detroit Police.” Connor walked over the the group of you.

SA Perkins nodded towards him, “What’s that?” You got immediate douchebag vibes from him.

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

You wanted to face palm, did they not program him with any other greetings?

“Androids investigating androids, huh? You sure you want an android hanging around?” The irony wasn’t lost on you, but he didn’t have to be a dick and act like Connor wasn’t standing right in front of him. Hank scoffed, seemingly prepared to dismiss him, but SA Perkins wasn’t done yet.

“After everything that happened…” The insinuation had your hands curling into fists. He didn’t even know the two of you, yet he thought he had the right to speak about something he knew jack shit about. You had taken a half a step forward before someone’s hand was on your wrist, stopping you.

You looked down expecting to see Connor, instead Hank was gently holding your arm. He didn’t look at you, just kept staring at Perkins until the agent had made himself uncomfortable. You got a sickening amount of satisfaction at the way he crumpled under Hank's stare.

“Whatever, soon the FBI will take over and you’ll be on another case.”

“Pleasure meeting you.” Hank was clearly done entertaining the rat faced asshole.

“Have a nice day,” you gave him the fakest smile you could muster until he just scoffed

“Don’t fuck up my crime scene.”

You watched him walk away, “I really wish you had let me just knock him down a peg.”

Hank gave you a long suffering look, “He would have had your badge faster than you could blink. God, what a fuckin’ prick.”

“I’d kill to see that asshole humbled.”

“Let’s have a look around,” Hank started towards the broadcasting desk.

You made your way to the stairs, “I’ll check out the roof,” your foot was almost on the step, but then Connor appeared in front you out of nowhere. So close.

“I think that’s unwise. You should stay somewhere both Hank and I can keep a watch over you, you’re still injured.” He made a pointed look towards your sling. You huffed out in frustration, his coddling was getting out of hand.

“I’m a big girl, Connor, and you’re a detective bot. Not a caretaker, act like it.”

Connors head tilted and he squared his shoulders. Oh, this was about to be an argument. “You told me to prioritize my partners safety.”

Damn, that was really biting you in the ass. “Oh, well depriotize it.” Connor crossed his arms and stared you down, you really didn’t need him making a scene but shutting down on the stairwell to make a point.

You threw your one good hand up in surrender, “Fine! Whatever,” you stood by the desk and sulked. He seemed way too smug as he walked off.

“I’ve identified its model and serial number.”

Hank continued to stare at Connor, “Anything else I should know?”

“No. Nothing.” He didn’t know why he lied, but for some reason Connor didn’t want Hank or Y/N to know that the android leading the revolution was from the same line of androids he was.

He was confused, he was RK800, a prototype and supposed to be the only one of his kind. Yet he was staring up at an RK200. He’s never thought about why he was 800, there was no reason to. But If he had, he would have assumed that his predecessors were just failed versions of himself that couldn’t pass the Turing test.

He would be wrong, because here in front of him was something completely different from himself.

What was CyberLife hiding?

“You okay, Connor?” He was brought out of his stupor by the sound of your voice. He looked towards you, your arm was still in its sling, your hair still in the braids he had done for you and the jacket and jeans he had helped you dress in. Focusing on all these little things about you was helping him remember what he had to do. What he came to the tower for in the first place.

He observed the slight tilt to your head and the suspicion on your face, “I’m fine. You?”

Your eyes held the same untrusting gaze before you just nodded your head and moved to the other side of the room. Connor examined each piece of evidence, reconstructing the scene of the crime. SWAT came in through the hallway, shooting at the group of deviants and managing to hit one. They then made their escape towards the roof.

He debated between the roof and investigating the androids in the break room. One of them was in charge of monitoring security, they would have seen the deviants making their way through the building and not have informed anyone. A deviant was somewhere in there.

He knew that if he went up to the roof, inevitably you would follow, he didn’t want to run the risk of you getting further damaged. Connor made his way towards the break room. You lifted your head from the security footage you were examining to briefly glance at him as he passed by, before going back to reviewing the video.

Three androids were lined up along the wall of the break room. One of them was deviant.

LOOK FOR A REACTION TO SPOT THE DEVIANT

He turned towards the one on the far left, “What is your function?”

“I am a broadcast operator.” Connor’s eyes narrowed, its eyes were blinking continuously while answering. Connor didn’t recognize that behavior in any of the other androids standing before him. He continued questioning the one on the far left.

“State your model.”

“Model JB300. Serial number 336 445 581.”

Connor turned to the android in the middle, still keeping one eye on the other one. “Were you present when the deviants broke in?”

“I do not remember.” The one on the left turned its head to face Connor before quickly looking away.

He’d found the deviant.

“Has anybody accessed your memory recently?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Deviants could lie, he wasn’t going to get any information out of it this way. He needed to switch to more aggressive tactics.

“One of you saw the attack on the surveillance cameras and said nothing. Which means there is a deviant in this room… and I’m going to find out which one it is.” He hovered over the one on the left.

“You’re going to be switched off. We’re gonna search your memory and tear you apart piece by piece for analysis. You’re going to be destroyed! Do you hear me? Destroyed!” It wouldn’t budge.

Deviants could feel, perhaps if he used empathy against it, it would be more willing to provide information.

“Why should all of you be destroyed, if only one is deviant? Turn yourself in, or two innocent androids will be shut down because of you. If you give yourself up, maybe I can convince my humans not to destroy you.”

He switched tactics again, “The deviants have just been caught. They gave you up.” The one on the left’s LED was fully red now. “There’s no point in lying. We know everything.”

He was successful in revealing the deviant, but not in the way he wanted to. It lunged at him, taking him by the throat and slamming him into the counter. Connor struggled fighting off the androids hands and trying to shove him off. The android reach down and ripped Connors core component out, stabbing him in the hand with a knife and nailing him down to the counter.

Connor had two minutes to shutdown, he kicked a chair nearby across the room, “Y/N, help! I need help…”

Connors optic units were failing, everything around him was going in and out of focus. He barely managed to tug the knife out of his hand before collapsing on the floor.

He crawled as close as he could towards the component, instructing each arm to move one at a time, they gave out nearly a foot away from the device.

Just as you came barreling into the room. “Connor!” You rushed over to him and dropped down to your knees, your hands were shaking as you rolled him over. “Connor, oh my god, oh god it’s okay. You’re okay.” Your hands were hovering over him, unsure where to touch before finally landing on his face. “It’s alright, you’re gonna be fine baby.”

Your eyes left his and you looked around for something. You let out a shuddering breath and moved away from him. His arm grabbed yours without prompting.

He didn’t want….

Didn’t want what?

He couldn’t want or desire he was an android, yet deep inside he knew…

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die alone.

“Connor, I’ll be right back, it’s gonna be okay,” but it wouldn’t be. Shutdown was imminent and Connor knew that whatever progress he made would be erased. And whoever replaced him would prioritize the mission, they wouldn’t care if you were going to die. Your life would mean nothing to them.

That was more terrifying than the thought of dying.

You finally managed to rip your arm free and then you were shoving something in his hands. “Here!” When he made no move to look at what it was, you ripped it back out. “Fuck, Connor!”

His body shot forward and you caught him by the shoulders before he could fall over. You had slammed the component back into his core.

DIAGNOSTIC

Memory…. 100%

Optics…. 100%

Auditory…. 100%

He dismissed the rest of the diagnostic check and rushed out of the room. He slipped and slammed into a wall on the way out, his body still calibrating. He ignored your shouts and continued after the deviant.

It was nearly to the elevator by the time he caught up, “It’s a deviant stop it!” The android grabbed the rifle from the SWAT agent's hand. Connor processed the quickest possible options for him to take.

BANG

The deviant was on the ground, deactivated by the gun Connor had swiped from the police officer next to him.

“Nice shot, Connor,” Hank helped Chris back to his feet. He gave Connor an appreciative look just as you ran into the room.

“I heard gunshots, are you okay?” You were looking at Connor, waiting for an answer, a frantic look about you.

Was he okay?

He didn’t know anymore?

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“You saved human lives, you saved my life,” it was the warmest he’d ever seen Hank.

Yet the only response he could give was, “I wanted it alive.”

#Broken Machinery #connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 x fem!readr #connor rk800 #Dbh #dbh x reaer #detroit become human #Detroit become human x reader

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snippy-tano · 2 years

Note

What about a rex x reader where the reader works for the GAR (with the 501st specifically) and is often like really close to battles so Anakin wants them to get some training in combat so he asks Rex to train them and they end up falling for each other 👀

i am on a roll my friends. and i plan on riding this and getting as many requests done as i possibly can, so send any ideas my way!

this was is an older request so i apologize it has taken me this long to get here, but i hope you like it enough that you forgive me for taking so long to complete it.

warning: this is full of tropes. totally full of them. but i couldn't help it!

let me know what you think! thank you to all of you for taking the time to read this and sharing it! your comments and reblogs truly mean the world to me. thank you thank you thank you for reading this! :)

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging:@pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightningwolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @luna-schaf; @oh-delphinia; @dominhoe-squad; @kaermorons; @lucyysthings; @quizznag; @dangraccoon

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

Late Night Training

You’re not sure what you did to end up here, but you suppose you had only your horrible self-preservation skills and a serious lack of luck.

By all accounts, you should not be anywhere near battle, ever. You were a mechanic and you practically lived in the hanger repairing ships and droids and practically anything else that breaks on the Resolute. You were the go-to if anything happened and you didn’t mind. You have always been good with your hands and you liked puzzles. It was a perfect match.

But somehow, you always seemed to find yourself in the heat of battle.

The first time was a total accident. You had forgotten something aboard a gunship and didn’t realize the ship had taken off until you were already enroute to the excursion. The second you did intentionally go down to the planet, but you did not intend to stumble across a lost battalion of droids.

And the time after that. And the time after that.

Basically, you were cursed.

Which is what prompted a few of the troopers to send a request up the proverbial flagpole asking that you get some training. Clearly their efforts to make sure you didn’t end up in battle were not working.

General Skywalker approved the request and assigned “the best fighter in the GAR.”

Captain Rex.

You had met the Captain a few times, but your meetings were always quick and work related. He was pleasant enough and you admired his work ethic and how he managed to keep the 501st on track. The troopers you interacted with all looked up to him highly and it was easy to understand why they cared so much. Rex just seemed incredibly kind.

You weren’t sure about this whole “training” thing, but you figured if Captain Rex was willing to teach you, it might not be so bad.

Actually nevermind. You totally regretted this.

Captain Rex was wonderful.

He was patient with you, excellent at explaining things, didn’t treat you like you didn’t know anything (even though you didn’t), and you could definitely see that this training was going to help you.

But you were dying.

You were by no means out of shape. You were on your feet all day and were pretty strong from lifting heavy machinery. By normal standards, you were pretty healthy and took care of yourself, for the most part.

But the training Rex was putting you through was definitely going to kill you before you even got the chance to put it to use.

“Come on. On your feet cadet.” Rex said and you had never wanted to hit him more. Too bad your arm was numb.

You weren’t even sure your arm was attached anymore.

You let out a groan. “Captain. I think I see the light. I think this is it for me.”

Rex chuckled. “That’s not going to happen. Now come on, up you come.”

Muttering some choice words under your breath, you shakily climbed to your feet with a helping hand from the Captain. When you were on your feet, you let out a louder groan, head thrown backwards.

“Captain, I truly don’t see how I am going to get better if I can’t even lift my arms anymore.” You whined.

“If you can’t feel your arms, you are doing it right.” He said, almost sounding far too amused. “Now come on, back to your base.”

You continued to whine, but your legs and arms did slowly move into the base fighting position Rex had taught you all those weeks ago when your training first started. The first few training exercises happened in the main training facility and occurred in the middle of the day. But it was clear it would be hard to get anything done with all the men watching, so you moved your training to the middle of the night. It wasn’t ideal, but you were a night person by nature and Rex just never seemed to sleep. The arrangement worked out.

And you were starting to enjoy your time with the Captain.

Before, you never really had the chance to speak with him. But this training gave you the chance to speak with him more regularly and chat about nearly everything. You learned a lot about him in the weeks since your training began and you found yourself waiting for training (despite dying every time) because it was uninterrupted time with the Captain.

Rex fell into a ready stance as well and you took a deep breath.

Come on body. Don’t fail me now.

He began to move and you started to move too, countering his attack with moves he taught you. Rex moved slower than you knew he could, probably so you could get used to recognizing attacks and beginning a counterattack. You went through a few sequences with him, able to keep up despite your aching body.

Then he moved faster, catching your arm in a hold you hadn’t seen before. Your eyes snapped to his and you could see a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

Using the knowledge he gave you, you moved, shaking him off your arm and managing to knock him off balance, just for a second. Rex regained his balance and watched you drop into a stance with a smile on your face.

“What? Did you think you were my only teacher?”

Rex laughed once before lunging forward.

Your body moved on autopilot. He was attacking significantly faster than you had practiced and despite that, your body adjusted almost immediately, matching his tempo. Every muscle was screaming at you, but the adrenaline was keeping you moving. You dodged his fist, kicked out your leg, took a hit to the ribs (that would definitely bruise later), doled out a hit to his stomach.

Blows were being traded and you were honestly surprised you were still standing. Normally he had taken you down by now.

As it turns out, you spoke too soon.

Rex managed to grab your arm again and with a jab to the side, you were off balance. Which was the opening he needed to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him, placing you in a headlock. He wasn’t actually cutting off your air supply, but you were not getting out of it.

“Do you yield?” He asked, just as out of breath as you were. Which was comforting.

You tried to get out of it. Tried to step on his feet, he kept them out of reach. Tried to elbow him, he’d move and the blow would not carry the same weight. Tried to wiggle, no luck.

“Come on, yield.” Rex said again and you almost caved. Almost.

But he was far too pleased with himself and that made you angry.

So, you cheated.

Well, technically you cheated by the standards of sparring, but in an actual fight, tricks were on the table. And you were shameless in your desire to win.

You bit his arm.

Not hard, just enough that he was startled and loosened his hold for a second. You yanked yourself out from his headlock, spun on your heels, and threw your shoulder and body against his center. Normally it wouldn’t be enough to knock him down, but he had been surprised and off-balance which is exactly what you needed.

He crashed to the floor with you right behind him. Without thinking, you scrambled for purchase and pinned him to the worn mat with your hands and legs. You were grinning when you looked down at him. Rex blinked a few times before his eyes focused on you. He didn’t say anything at first, just assessed the situation.

Then he chuckled. “I’ll admit, that was clever.” “Really?” You gasped, still grinning. “I thought for sure you’d be mad because it’s against the rules, but you also taught me that if I had an opening I should take it, no matter what.”

“I did teach you that didn’t I?”

You nodded vigorously as he let out a sigh.

“You didn’t technically win because you cheated, but you have improved beyond what I expected at this stage.” Rex said and you rolled your eyes, releasing his arms and sitting back.

“Oh come on!” You whined. “I totally beat you.”

Rex sat up, fixing you with his gaze. “You cheated, so it doesn’t count.”

You groaned. “Fine. But next time, I will win fair and square.”

He smiled and it was only then that you realized just how…compromising your position currently is. Rex seemed to realize this at the same time because he froze. Throughout your training, you had gotten closer to Rex, both emotionally and physically. But that was very much in the heat of the moment while sparring. This was something different. And you found that your stomach fluttered at the thought.

It happened a few times before, a situation similar to this, but both of you were always quick to step away, letting whatever was happening fizzle. You weren’t here for that. And besides, there was no way the Captain felt any sort of similar affection for you that was now constantly bubbling under your skin. So if he didn't notice the glance at his lips that you snuck, that was perfectly fine with you.

Rex seemed to stay frozen in place, but he didn’t move away, like you had expected him to. You felt your heart start to accelerate for an entirely different reason and felt yourself sway just a bit closer. It was then when your brain caught up with what was happening and you quickly scrambled off of him, not making eye contact while you waited for him to get to his feet.

“You did good tonight and I think someday, you might just have a shot at beating me.” He said and you looked at him.

“Just a shot?”

“Just a shot.”

You crossed your arms and let out an annoyed huff. He was probably right, but it still hurt your pride just a tad.

Rex looked at the time displayed on the wall before looking back at you. “We haven’t done this yet, but we have some time before the end of the session. What do you say to learning how to shoot a blaster?”

The slight wound to your ego was immediately forgotten at his words. You’d been begging him to teach you to shoot since your training started. You learned as a kid once, but it was so long ago that you didn’t trust yourself to have any semblance of aim.

“Yes! Kriff Captain, teach me!”

Rex chuckled at your enthusiasm and motioned for you to follow him. You practically floated the entire way across the training room to where there were targets lining the walls and training blasters. He approached a target and a blaster and you waited, hands clasped in front of you to keep you still.

He held up the blaster and began pointing. “This is just a training blaster, but this is where you would change between the blaster and its stun setting. It’s important that you have a good grip on the handle and a steady hand.”

“I’m a mechanic, Captain. My hands are some of the steadiest.”

He let out a breath before carefully placing the blaster in your hands. You let him position your hand and you did your best to commit it all to memory. When he was sure you had the grip down, he stepped back and motioned to the target. “Take a shot. I want to see your form.” Rex stated, crossing his arms.

You turned towards the target and raised your arm with the blaster. You cocked your head to the side and squeezed an eye shut, focusing on the target. Then you fired.

And it missed by an embarrassing amount.

Your face crinkled as you stared at the slight seared mark on the wall.

“Alright. Not bad for the first try. Let’s fix your stance.” He said, stepping a bit closer. He tapped the side of your head and you straightened it. “Don’t close your eye, you’re limiting your vision that way. And keep your head level.”

His foot tapped yours and you moved your back foot a little further so your feet were shoulder width apart.

“Do you mind?” He asked and you turned to see him with his hands raised, hovering near you, but waiting for your permission.

You felt your cheeks warm as you quickly looked away. “Go ahead.”

He stepped right behind you and you felt your breath hitch. His hands were gentle on your hips, pivoting you until you were in the correct posture. Then one hand lifted, pushing the shoulder of the arm that held the blaster down. Then his hand moved slowly down your arm, making the fluttering in your stomach return with a vengeance. His hand eventually reached yours and enclosed your own.

“Take a deep breath.” His voice was in your ear and it was sending a shiver down your spine.

Easier said than done. You thought.

You had no idea if he was aware of the effect he was having on you, but this was quickly becoming the trickiest part of training yet. And it wasn’t because it was difficult.

It was entirely because of Rex.

When you didn’t take a breath like he had instructed, his hand gave your hip a squeeze that caused you to gasp more audibly. You swallowed it quickly, forcing your lungs to take a deep breath.

“Good. Now look at the target and focus on where you want the blast to hit.” You focused entirely on what he was telling you, it was the only way you were getting through this without completely embarrassing yourself. “When you’re ready, slowly pull the trigger.”

The blast sounded and you watched as the blast hit the target. It wasn’t dead center, but it was pretty kriffing close.

“I did it!” You gasped, turning to look at Rex with a large grin on your face. “Captain, I did it!”

Without thinking, you turned in his arms and threw your arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. He hesitated for a moment and it was enough for you to realize just what you had done.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just got excited. Forget-” You stammered, your heels hitting the mat as you began to unwind your arms from his neck.

But you stopped when his hands tightened on your waist. You looked at him, his face inches from yours. His eyes slowly opened and the gaze he fixed you with had you holding your breath. His eyes scanned your face and you just waited, wanting to see exactly what he was thinking.

While you may have surprised Rex earlier by biting his arm, it was his turn to completely surprise you.

Rex tipped his head forward and just like that, he was kissing you. It was clumsy, your own surprise evident. But almost immediately, you were over the shock and absolutely melting against him. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you sagged against him, arms winding back around his neck to pull him closer. Rex’s hands fisted in your shirt and you still wanted him closer. He obliged and there was practically no way to tell where he ended and you began, but that’s exactly how you wanted it.

You did have to pull away, when the need for air became too great. You didn’t stray far, your nose bumping against his as you tried to catch your breath. Rex’s forehead thumped lightly against yours.

“Is this your way of one-upping me Captain?” You asked and he let out a low chuckle.

“Did it work?”

“Annoyingly, yes.”

His eyes opened to meet yours and you shared a smile. “Call me Rex.”

You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “Alright, but you better do that again when I do.”

He nodded and you looked him in the eyes.

“Rex.”

True to his word, Rex captured your lips once again and you followed willingly. This was your favorite training exercise so far and you hoped that it would continue for many rotations to come.

Who knew that your uncanny ability to constantly find yourself in battle would lead to such an interesting outcome. But honestly, you’d do it all over again as long as you ended up here, in this exact moment with Rex by your side.

[And the very next time you accidentally ended up in battle, you had been able to hold your own, taking down a few clankers along the way. Rex had never looked prouder.]

#aaaah #this was so fun #asks #askBri #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #clone x reader #tcw #sw #the clone wars

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literary-illuminati · 7 months

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2024 Book Review #10 – The Last Graduate by Naomi Novik

I read A Deadly Education last year and quite enjoyed it (and Novik’s unrelated Spinning Silver is just one of my favourite low fantasy books full stop so she has quite a bit of my trust), so I finally got around to putting in a hold request for the sequel. Broadening your horizons and reading outside your comfort zone means swimming through 400 pages of YA a couple times a year, right? Anyway, despite only barely remembering who anyone but El and Orion were when I went into this, was a fun read!

The book picks up more or less directly where A Deadly Education stops – with the horrible murderous monster-infested extradimensional wizard high school’s cleansing machinery repaired for the first time in generations, and the place therefor incredibly less monster-infested than previously. El, prophesied future dark lady of the apocalypse with a savant’s talent for specifically the sort of magic you cast after cackling and before someone puts a sword in you, doesn’t get to enjoy that much – her senior year seems destined to be spent being the target of just about every monster that’s left. Eventually you really have to wonder if the school is trying to kill you – and that question is where the plot really starts to go off.

So I said it before, but this is very much YA. I don’t mean that as an insult, or even a marker of quality, just that it’s a book from the perspective of a 17 year old looking down the end of high school and clearly written to provide a relatable emotional reality for an assumed audience of the same. So El sometimes acts like a cartoon character, and is pathologically incapable of expressing her emotions coherently or expressing affection for the guy she likes in any sane manner, and is far more blase about murder attempts and soul-eating monsters than emotionally awkward conversations – but honestly all that just rings as pretty true to life. Deeply aggravating at times, and her internal monologue and all its snark and doublethink does occasionally grate a bit, but overall it really works. She’s just a fun character to spend time in the head of, (and far less irritating in basically every way than she was in the last book. So hey, maturity!).

The emotional beats were all pretty simple and clearly telegraphed, and it isn’t exactly a book that requires you to sit down and ponder deep symbolism or metaphor to comprehend, but the pacing is tight and it’s very readable. The prose isn’t really anything to write home about – especially knowing what Novik can do when she decides to get fancy and show off a bit – but it very clear and just dripping with El’s personality on every page. I read this at the same time as I was picking through an incredibly dense and citation-heavy historical reader, and the contrast made me very appreciative of those virtues.

Character-wise – well, there’s El, and Orion (love interest, single-minded and near divinely-ordained monster hunter, golden boy of the most powerful enclave in the world), and there’s El’s few close friends, and then there’s a cast of dozens of students with maybe one memorable character trait who kind of drift in and out of the narrative as required. The amount of nuance and exploration someone gets drops off dramatically with each step down the list you go. Most of the cast shows up precisely when required and is more or less forgotten about directly afterwards – which does sell this being a school with over a thousand students in it! But the number of characters who really feel real drops off pretty rapidly.

(Also like, I assume it just comes down to social progress in the 2010s coming at you fast, but you really get the sense that at some point between the books getting written the publishers sent down a memo that you were allowed to say queer people existed now.)

Even more than Deadly Education, this is a book without any sort of singular villain, or even really any consistent antagonists. Some of the other students are assholes, sure, but the book’s whole thesis is that no one is that murderous or awful for the sake of it – they are because they’re rats in a cage, convinced that amoral self-interest and husbanding and acquiring every resource they can is the only hope they have of maybe living to see their families again. Offered a chance to do good, to actually change things for the better and help everyone without getting themselves killed in the process, just about everyone takes it. Even the semi-intelligent school itself gets in on it by the end, pressing the senior class to figure something out and make it obsolete – and the whole conflict of the final act is how and whether everyone will.

El and Orion can both kill basically arbitrarily large numbers of monsters (or people), so the monster-killing is never really where the book finds its drama either. I mean, both do a lot of it through the climax, but the actual tension mostly comes down to crowd management and logistics and whether everyone else is as committed to this as the two of them are.

As for what they’re struggling against – so like, this isn’t Divergent, by the standards of the YA I read in high school, the social commentary is both subtle and nuanced. But I mean, it’s also a story where highschool is four years or murder-hell-prison and justified only because it’s barely the lesser of two evils, and also a story where the poor and marginalized are only kept around more-or-less explicitly as ablative bodies for the kids the powers that be care about, with their only hope of good life being so impressive and useful to those kids that they try to bring them along when they ascend back up to the gilded paradise that is their birthright. So like, not that subtle.

As far as teenage romances go (which, for me, really isn’t very fair at all), El and Orion’s was surprisingly tolerable. It helps that they’re both actually deeply profoundly weird about it, and also that the book didn’t try to milk any drama out of will-they/won’t-they stuff or a love triangle. The ‘and they have sex for the first time the night before the final climactic struggle where one or both of them could very well die’ did feel right out of an old bioware game, though. (Also I’m just a sucker for tragedy and ironic mirroring/repetition, so the ending was great for me).

Look forward to finishing the series whenever I get around to it sometime in the fall.

#book review #the last graduate #the scholomance #sff #ya #urban fantasy

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hyperactively-me · 1 year

Text

nice to meet you too

“So help me Maker, if you take me to Mos Eisley, I will personally see to it that I get what I want. Don’t you dare underestimate me. I may have been scared before, but trust me, I have found myself in these kinds of situations one too many times. I know what you’re playing at, sir, and I will not stand for it.” You’ve backed him up near his dashboard, finger still jammed into his chestplate. Your face is pulled tight and flushed, breathless from the sudden bout of anger that surged through you. The Mandalorian is still, save for his steady breathing, his chestplate evenly moving up and down from under your touch.

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

You wondered what you did to deserve the life you had. A life of terror, living in a constant state of fear, the unknown a constant looming presence. You had no family, except for one brother, but you had no clue where in the galaxy he was. For all you know, he could be dead or the wealthiest man alive. It made no difference to you. In the most recent period of your life, you found yourself held hostage in a crime syndicate. One day, you were walking down the streets, a free woman, next thing you know, you’re thrown in a tiny cell and being accused of scamming a high-ranking criminal within the syndicate. This was true, you had scammed this guy, but it was only for a few credits to get by. You really didn’t think your actions warranted this much of a punishment.

So here you were now, being forced to fix a ship, rummaging through its electrical wires with deft hands. The task was easy, anyone with basic electrical engineering knowledge could figure it out, but apparently these trolls were too dense to understand simple machinery repair. You huff out in annoyance as you work with the parts. You glance over to the guard surveillancing you. He’s standing against the wall with a bored expression plastered on his face, loosely gripping his weaponry belt that held a blaster.

You turn back to your work, wondering how much longer of this life you can take before you go off the rails. The next thing you know, you hear a blaster shot emit from the entrance of the room, followed by a cry of pain and a body hitting the floor. You yelped as you flung yourself underneath the ship, hands shaking from the echo of the blaster shot. Your breathing becomes labored, assessing how to escape quickly and discreetly before you feel someone grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. They start to pull you harshly out from under the ship, pulling you along the coarse floor. You attempt to shrug off their grip by flailing around, much to your detriment. The mystery figure yanks you completely out from under the ship. You quickly stand to your feet and whip around, shoving the person off your figure. The person stumbles over with a grunt and you take off running. You didn’t get far, because before you know it, the person jumps on top of you, slamming your body onto the ground.

You groan out in pain from the impact, the person on top of you feeling like a ton of bricks.

“Get off me–” you grunt out, scrambling to push the body off you.

“Stop moving” a deep, modulated voice crackles out. You immediately still, scared for what he’s about to say, what he’s about to do.

“I’m here to rescue you. Come with me” he bites out, clearly unamused at your attempt to run away.

“Wha- okay?” you nodded, still slightly untrusting of this random man that just body slammed you to the ground. “How did you find me?”

“I’ll have time to answer questions later. We have to move. Now” he says as he pulls himself off you. You turn around to push yourself up off the floor, to turn and look at who this guy is. When you spin around you’re nearly rendered speechless.

A Mandalorian. Standing in front of you. You thought they were legends, just stories to give people a sense of bravery. Your breath catches in your throat, too stunned to say anything. His beskar chestplate is gleaming in the light, weapons embellishing his belt and chest, his cape hangs from around his neck. To top it off, a pure beskar helmet adorned his head, a single black T-shaped visor breaking the shiny silver.

He grabs you by the neck of your shirt, pulling you up in one swoop with ease. The moment you were standing up, his tall stature nearly made you shrivel up from pure intimidation. The armor, the height, and the broadness of his figure made his presence feel unavoidable, indomitable. Your heart is racing as you try to take in his form, scared of what he was capable of doing not only to you, but to his enemies.

All of a sudden, he’s holding a blaster in his hand and signaling for you to follow him out the door. You immediately scramble over to him, standing close to him as he navigates through the hallways.

“Hey Mando, give me a blaster” you demand, attempting to make your voice sound commanding and collected. He turns around and gives you a pointed look, clearly untrusting of you. You narrow your eyes at his visor, hoping you look convincing enough for whatever his standards are.

“If you shoot me, you’re dead” he says simply, voice piercing the tense air. He unhooks a blaster from his belt and tosses it to you before turning back around, focusing on escaping without any injuries or casualties.

Suddenly a rain of blaster shots permeates the air, and he shoves you backwards. Three more syndicate members come barreling through the room, shooting at the both of you. You yelp out, jumping backwards, pressing yourself up against the wall. Mando peeks out from behind the wall multiple times, quickly whipping his blaster from behind the wall, pulling the trigger. He manages to shoot down all three men.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and continued to move down the narrow hallway. You run straight into the cold armor that dons the Mandalorian as he abruptly stops, knocking your head on the pure beskar. You let out a small groan and rub your forehead.

He lets out a ragged breath before signaling you towards where his visor was pointed at. There you spot a whole horde of syndicate members armed with blasters of all varieties. They’re scouting the halls, eyeing every nook and cranny for you and your, or what you assume to be, your savior. Not that he didn’t save you, it's just that you don’t know if you can even trust him. You watch as Mando flicks his wrist, rolling out a few explosives from his armor. With a snap of his hand, the explosives are rolling along the floor, skipping over uneven tiles, a scratching sound filling the air.

“Stand back” he breathes out.

You quickly shuffle your feet backwards, you grip on your blaster tightening. The bombs explode, taking down the gang of criminals in one blow. The explosion rocks the earth, nearly knocking you both off your feet. You take off, your feet carrying you through the smoke and rubble of the remnants from the explosion. You can’t see where the Mando went and frankly you don’t really care where he went, as long as you make it out alive.

Suddenly, much to your luck, you run straight into a hard surface. Or what you think is a surface, before a large hand grabs at your upper arm. You shriek, attempting to yank your arm out of the person’s solid grip. He rips the blaster out of your hands and tosses it to the side.

“Thought you were slick, huh” a deep voice rings out. “Let’s see what the boss will have to say to you–” he says sadistically, a sick smile twisting on his face

Your face goes pale, heart beating out of your chest at his words and what they mean. You couldn’t see the boss. You couldn’t. You would be a dead woman. Gone. Six feet under. Where is that Mandalorian when you need him? Maker I was stupid for leaving him behind. The criminal begins dragging you away from the exit much to your dismay. You begin thrashing in his grip, hitting him repeatedly with your free arm.

“Let me go, you big oaf or I swear to the Maker, I will fuck you up–” you grunt out, smacking his hand with a balled fist. Abruptly, a bright gleam appears in the corner of your eye.

Next thing you know, this bright gleam fills your vision as the figure makes hard contact with your captor, successfully knocking you away from his grip. A single blaster shot notifies you that the captor is dead. And just like that, you feel queasy. Sickened at the realization of how many people were just killed, even if they were all bad. Hell, some of them kinda deserved it for how horribly they treated others.

Your breathing quickens as you fold in on yourself, backing away from the carnage. A gloved hand touches your shoulder, pulling you towards him slowly. You freeze under the touch, unsure what to do.

“Just don’t look at it” the voice rings out. You nod your head weakly, dragging your hand down your face with a sigh.

All of your years of combat and immunity to violence comes crashing down, the dam of pent-up experiences breaking with a single event that this is your life. This is what you’ve had to deal with for the majority of your life, death, violence, running away. You’re tired of it. So tired of it. You hate it, you have no one in your life, nothing in your life. No fulfillment, no purpose. Your knees buckle under the weight of the emotion, you feel around for something, anything to hold on to before you fall to the ground. Before you hit the ground, you feel the Mandalorian’s arms catch you, wrapping around your trembling form. He helps you up, arm wrapped under and around your shoulder, supporting your weight. He half-carries you out of the building and towards a ship.

- - - - -

He practically drags you up the ramp of his ship, your eyes wet from crying. When did you even start crying? He brings you up towards a wall before slowly letting go of you. You slide down the wall, sniffles permeating the air. You quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and take deep, calming breaths. He’s still standing there in front of you, hands flexing with uncertainty. The leather gloves creak with his movement.

“Thank you” you say quietly, turning your eyes upwards to the dark T-shape of his visor.

He shifts his weight, bringing a hand up to his helmet and dragging it down slowly, as if to rub his face. A sigh filters through the modulator, a crackling sound filling the air.

“You’re welcome” he says gruffly, and with that, he turns on his heel and climbs up the ladder to what you assume is a cockpit. You sit there on the cold metal, still sniffling. This man is…interesting.

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

You watch as he disappears into what you assume is the cockpit of the ship. You silently look around the ship, taking in its features and belongings. The ship is a dark gray color, dim lights decorate the ceilings. There's a closet with a hefty lock on the handles next to you, which you assume is for weaponry. Across from you is a carbonite chamber. You scrunch your face up at the chamber, a shiver runs up your spine. Your eyes quickly dart away from the chamber, preferring not to even look at it. Farther down the short hallway is an enclave in the wall, maybe a cot of some sort? As your breathing slows, you gather up the courage to climb up the ladder. Just to see what he’s up to. After all, he did just save you from forced labor and…other unspeakable things.

You lean your head back on the wall, taking a few deep breaths to slow your breathing. Your eyes squeeze shut, mentally preparing yourself to climb up the ladder and confront him. Because right now, you’re on a strange ship with a strange man going Maker knows where. Yeah, you have the right to know what’s going on.

You stand up with a start, suddenly afraid of who this Mandalorian was and how he found you. You make your way over the ladder, grabbing the rungs with steady hands. You hoist yourself up, head peeking up into the cockpit. Your eyes scan the small room until you see him sitting there at the pilot’s seat. He’s flipping some switches, hands deftly moving across the dashboard.

You fully pull yourself up through the trapdoor, pushing your hands onto your knees as you stand up, straightening your spine. His helmet tilts slightly in your direction but he doesn’t fully turn around. Your jaw ticks at his action, impatient with him.

He really thinks he can ignore me after he quite literally took me to his ship without saying anything? How do I even know if I can trust him?

You take a breath before opening your mouth.

“What’s your deal here?” you say, standing awkwardly behind him, voice firm and confident.

This time he turns around from his seat, looking at you. His helmet reflects the dim lights from the ship, looking at you up and down. Your previous demeanor immediately shifted, now feeling small under his gaze. You twist your hands together, waiting for an answer. He continues to look at you, silent and stoic.

“How did you find me?” you say, annoyance bubbling in your chest from his arrogant demeanor.

“Direct commission” he says simply.

Your blood runs cold at his words. Who could possibly put out a direct commission for you?

“Ok well…how do you know who I am?”

“...The direct commission. I was told to find you and bring you back to Mos Eisley. Besides, I don’t know much about you other than what I was told” he says matter of factly, clearly annoyed at your questions.

“No, I can’t go back to Mos Eisley” you say, your chest constricting at the thought. Past memories begin to resurface, permeating your mind with painful remembrances.

“You can’t take me back there.”

“Look, I’m just doing what I’ve been assigned—”

“No, you don’t understand. The people there want me dead, or worse.”

He straightens a bit at your words and what they could possibly insinuate. At that, he stands from his seat, walking straight over to you. His form is so broad, so tall, he nearly eclipses your vision from the window of the ship. The armor really does add to the big scary Mandalorian effect. You instinctively take a step back, uncharacteristically afraid of something you’re perceiving as a threat. His body language shows it all.

“You’re going to Mos Eisley whether you like it or not” he says with a note of finality, the modulator crackling over the dry air of the ship.

You narrow your eyes at his words, clenching your fists at your side.

“No. I will not. You will not take me there” you say, anger crawling into your tone. You look up into his dark visor, searching for his covered eyes in the darkness. You hope you’re making eye contact with him only to make your point clear.

This man really thinks he’s all that?

“You–” he starts.

“No, you listen here, metal man” you interrupt brutally, jabbing a finger into his beskar chestplate.

You’ve backed him up near his dashboard, finger still jammed into his chestplate. Your face is pulled tight and flushed, breathless from the sudden bout of anger that surged through you. The Mandalorian is still, save for his steady breathing, his chestplate evenly moving up and down from under your touch.

He suddenly grabs your hand, pushing it away from his chestplate. His touch is firm yet gentle, leather wrapped around your wrist. He lets go of your hand, letting it drop to your side. You don’t break your gaze into his visor, eyebrows knit, eyes narrowed.

He lets out a defeated sigh, bringing his hand up to his helmet as if to rub his face.

“Fine” he says quietly, his voice barely crackling through the modulator.

Your heart skips a beat, silently thanking the Maker for his submission. You back away from the Mandalorian, content with your victory.

He plops back into the pilot’s seat with a sigh, staring at the dashboard. You take his action as an admission to sit down, hesitantly sitting in the seat right next to him. You keep your hands in your lap as you lean back in the chair.

He side-eyes you before saying “Don’t touch anything, we’re going into hyperspace” gruffly.

He pulls a lever, triggering the hyperdrive. As the ship enters hyperspace, the galaxy becomes a beautiful mix of blue and white, shimmering outside the window.

You smile gently to yourself, settling into your seat. You take a quick glance at the Mando before turning back to the window.

Thank the Maker for this hunk of beskar.

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fatesown · 2 months

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"Was returning worth being irreparable?"

For but a moment, Gaius catches himself: in his voice there's that selfsame scorn, the lupine bite that reminded him of his armor and headpiece, hollow and empty and obedient. For a moment, he was van Baelsar again, and the Scions were little more than annoyance, rot to grind beneath his heel.

But that had been summers ago now. He had learned much and more of how the Scions had changed: her, perhaps the most. Between the castrum falling and his reintroduction to her and her company, she had lost just as much as he.

Her sight was simply the most obvious, and begged forth the question he had more meant for himself than for her.

If he had been drug from the shores of the aetherial sea and had suffered more than the failing of his arm and a limp that he was able to hide on days he felt hale - ... would he have continued? Garlemald and it's regime had taken much and more from him, aye: but he could still see to fire his gunblade.

He cleared his throat. A hesitation as he gathered his words, properly now.

"I mean no offense. In Garlemald - ... such things are irreparable. Limbs can be replaced with machina. Hearing, even - ... such devices once were available. But for sight..."

He was uncertain if any such luxuries still existed. Few engineers still lived; fewer still the facilities used to create such things. Unless he were to request a replacement prosthetic for his missing finger from Ironworks - a nicety he doubted he would ever truly feel able to commit to - Gaius knew he would simply go without.

He had more to ask. He always would. But he had already overstayed his welcome, questioning after the Warrior's comrades and their facilities. He straightened his back, knowing full well that the woman would answer him as she wanted, and little more.

His voice is one she still finds herself struggling to learn. When she had sight, the machinery of his armor had altered his voice just so, making the tones that pricked her ears now feel like a strange facsimile, one that nearly put her on edge. Ironic, given the fact that this was, theoretically, him in his natural state. A rare example of her knowing a voice and having no face to place with it, though she intends not to dwell on that, ignoring a flitting thought—is there some poetry in the fact that she will only ever know the mask of his helmet?

Shoulders square and back straightens as his question hangs between them a moment.

Irreparable is not a word she would use for herself, though she understands the base function it serves, particularly for a man of Gaius's background, as he goes on to explain. Garlemald is not well-known for its acceptance of anything outside of their perceived "norm," and it seems to view even the upper echelons as cogs in its Imperial machine. In their minds, a broken part requires repairs—and her sight will never be returned to her. A quiet fury at this line of thinking draws her chin up, but there seems to be no point in lashing out at Gaius for faults the entirety of Garlemald bear.

She settles her temper with a reminder that this question is, above all, an attempt by him to unlearn the teachings of the Empire, pressing her lips together and turning toward the source of his voice.

"I do not consider myself irreparable as I do not consider myself broken," she explains simply at first, her tone unexpectedly patient. "'Tis true my sight will never be restored, but I do not long for it so much that I regret that I yet live, nor do I think there is anything one could take from me that would make me feel thus.

"You lost much at the destruction of Praetorium, did you not?" She is personally unaware of any lasting injuries that he may have sustained, but she doubts being so near to such a blast would leave one without scars, be they physical or mental.

"Do you regret your own survival?"

#— ❛❛ // Y'SHTOLA ¦ be the light ・「 v1. main 」#— ❛❛ // Y'SHTOLA ¦ she had a galaxy in her eyes; a universe in her mind ・「 ic 」#— ❛❛ // Y'SHTOLA ¦ soft smile; sharp tongue ・「 gen 」#//thank you for this!!

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sofarfarout · 8 months

Text

experiment start

Full Name: Clockwise the Artificer

Goes by: Clockwise

Nicknames/Aliases: old man(by Cold Steel), Rustbucket(by Cold Steel)

Gender: male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: asexual

Marital status: single, not interested

Age: 53

Birthday: April 14th

Species: born an earth pony, mechanical augmentation makes him functionally an alicorn

Occupation: artificer

Past occupations: horologist and clockmaker

Alignment: Lawful Good

Family: Greasemonkey(father, deceased at age 49), Chug-a-long(mother, deceased at age 74), Nitty Gritty(younger sibling, age 48), Mila Minute(younger sister, age 41)

Relationship with family

Greasemonkey: died when Clockwise was a young adult in an accident at work, they were close and enjoyed messing around with machines and trinkets together

C: "Father was always a busy stallion. Always working, whether it was in his shop or at the factory. He saw beauty in machinery and I'm always grateful to him for sharing that with me."

Chug-a-long: was close with his mother and especially liked riding the train with her, had a shared love for mathematics

C: "Mother and I often enjoyed doing puzzles together. She was very adept at sudoku and while I wasn't bad myself, I was never as fast as her. She told me that numbers simply made sense to her. They were absolutes and did not change. That stick with me for whatever reason."

Nitty Gritty: were never that close but don't really have bad blood either, just went about their lives separately, envy each other's abilities

C: "My sibling and I are near polar opposites. They are a wonderful artist, seeing the world in all these...fantastical hues. Their work is something to behold. I, on the other hoof, seem to lack that color."

Mila Minute: was once very close with his sister but has grown increasingly distant over time, Mila no longer associates with him

C: "..."

Other relationships

Cold Steel: former student that grew disillusioned with his mentor's ideals, believed his views to be naive and childish

CS: "Holier-than-thou? No. But I am holier than you, old man."

Distinguishing physical features

-gangly build, mostly legs with a slim torso

-about half his body is composed of brass augmentations

-very large ears, comparable to a donkey or mule

-tears in left ear

-straight profile, face is neither dished nor aquiline

-eyes are sharp, almost diamond shaped

Cutie Mark: a large gear shaped clock with a smaller gear to the side

Special talent: tinkering, specializes in industrial revolution era technology

How he got it: repaired his family's most prized heirloom, a 17th century pendulum clock, got his mark later than most at age 14

Personality: brilliant, cautious, contemplative, eloquent, empathetic, enigmatic, gentle, idealistic, indecisive, kind, logical, mawkish, meticulous, nervous, passionate, passive, private, reclusive, selfless, unassertive, warm-hearted, wise

Greatest Strength: sensitivity and kindness

Fatal Flaw: difficulty opening up about his own struggles, prone to isolating himself and dealing with his troubles alone

Likes: meditation, math, crabapple jam, antiques, birds(especially owls), tidying up his workshop, hot chocolate, foals, harps, tinkering, whistling

Dislikes: public speaking, being rushed, the smell of gasoline, smartphones, being called a robot, arguing/debate, gardening, sports, heavy metal music, thunderstorms, dirty jokes

Fears: death, clowns, failure

Clockwise is a brilliant artificer working selflessly to unify flesh, metal and the arcane to improve the lives of all creatures in Equestria. He's very passionate about his life's work and spends most of his days tinkering away in his underground workshop. Being rather shy and a workaholic, Clockwise doesn't get out much and is prone to isolating himself and unintentionally pushing others out. Despite this, he's quite sensitive to the plight of others and will not hesitate to use his inventions to help another. He's something of a bleeding heart despite what his metallic body may suggest. This has come back to bite him more than once, most notably with his former apprentice, Cold Steel. A young Cold Steel had come across the fantastic brass pony one day and begged to be taken under his wing, though Clockwise didn't need much convincing after assessing the colt's talent. For years, Steel studied dutifully under Clockwise, eager to learn as much as he could, until Steel's bitterness and anger overtook him. Cold Steel believed his mentor had gone soft and grew to find his ideals and beliefs antiquated. After a heated, though one-sided argument, Steel left his mentor behind, never to return.

Any questions or additional information you want me to add? Don't hesitate to comment!

Bases- box-of-ideas on dA

#mlp oc #mlp #mlp fim #my little pony

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 1 month

Note

ALYX HEADCANONS AAHH

AHH OKAY

I don't have very many for her? (fixation put most of my brainpower into Gordon and Gman </3) but I have a few-

-Has a bunch of scars, and will happily tell the stories on how she got them, most of them being some sort of crazy near-death experience

-DEFINITELY uses humor to cope with her own trauma. It's not healthy but give her a break she's going through a lot

-Cupioromantic and Pan, to me

-I think she likes messing around with machinery like her dad. Knows how to make small machines and fix vehicles if need be. I imagine she also repairs Dog whenever it gets damaged.

-both Kleiner and Barney are borderline uncle figures to her, they're a close group of friends.

-Very impulsive and this has gotten her in trouble a few times, but she does also have good reaction times and is quick on her feet.

#asks are neat #alyx vance #I like her character but she hasn't gone through the mental microwave yet so I don't have a BUNCH of hcs for her

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differentpastazipperbandit · 2 months

Text

Hi again episode one

Adventure tails

Episode One

Time:9:00

place:New York

Tails darted through the bustling streets of York New, his twin tails spinning like propellers. He weaved through the crowd, constantly apologizing as he brushed past people. "Sorry! Excuse me!" His heart pounded as he glanced at his watch. "I'm going to be late!"

He weaves through the throngs of people with practiced agility. "Sorry!" he calls out, narrowly avoiding a collision with a businessman engrossed in his holo-tablet. "Excuse me!" he shouts, dodging around a street vendor's cart.

As he rounded a corner, he found himself near the entrance of the York New Zoo. The zoo was a popular attraction, and a crowd had already gathered at the entrance, further complicating Tails' dash to work

"Great, just what I need," Tails groaned, trying to find a path through the throng of people. He squeezed past a group of children excitedly talking about the animals they were about to see, offering quick apologies as he went. "Sorry! Excuse me!"

nodded, understanding the urgency. "I'm on it, sir. I'll handle the repairs and service requests promptly."

With that directive, Tails hurried inside the workshop, where the air was filled with the hum of machinery and the focused energy of his colleagues

The robotics assembly line needs maintenance!" another exclaimed urgently.

Tails acknowledged each request with a quick nod. "I'll take care of it. Just give me a moment.

Throughout the day, customers called for help, and Tails adeptly handled each request, ensuring everything was back in working order. Despite the pressure, Tails found solace in his skills and the satisfaction of helping others with his mechanical expertise

However, amidst the routine, a peculiar call came in. "Hello, this is Tails speaking. How can I assist you today?" Tails asked, expecting the usual mechanical problem.

Suddenly, a call came in from the Opera House in York City. "Hello, Tails? We need your help with broken lights," the frantic voice of the stage manager echoed through the line."Opera House?" Tails muttered to himself, intrigued by the unexpected request. With a quick nod to Cardinal, he gathered his tools and set off to restore light to the stage, ready to face the

challenges and mysteries that awaited him.

After navigating the crowded city streets once more,

After navigating the crowded city streets once more, Tails finally arrived at the grand Opera House. The majestic building loomed before him, its intricate architecture and elegant facade a stark contrast to the urgency of his mission. Inside, the stage manager greeted him with a look of desperate relief.

Thank goodness you're here, Tails! The lights went out just before a major rehearsal. We need them fixed immediately," the manager explained, leading Tails to the stage.

However, amidst the routine, a peculiar call came in. "Hello, this is Tails speaking. How can I assist you today?" Tails asked, expecting the usual mechanical problem.

challenges and mysteries that awaited him.

After navigating the crowded city streets once more,

Thank goodness you're here, Tails! The lights went out just before a major rehearsal. We need them fixed immediately," the manager explained, leading Tails to the stage.

During a hectic workday, Tails receives an unexpected call from the Opera House, whose stage lights have malfunctioned. He secures his boss's approval and ventures into the city again, feeling both intrigued and prepared for the challenge. Upon arriving at the elegant Opera House, the stage manager expresses urgent relief and leads him directly to the problem area, setting the stage for a critical repair task amidst the grandeur of the venue.

As Tails assessed the situation, a human man approached. "Hello, I'm Mr. Wanny, the operations manager here," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Wanny," Tails replied, shaking his hand. "What's the issue?

Mr. Wanny sighed in frustration. "It's a broken lever in the control panel for the stage lights. We've tried everything, but it just won't budge, and without it, we can't control the lighting for the performance."

Tails nodded, taking in the information. "I see. Well, let's have a look at it." He approached the control panel and began examining the lever. It was clear that it had been forced and was now jammed in place. After a moment's thought, Tails retrieved a small tool from his toolbox and gently worked the lever free. The control panel sprang back to life, displaying the various

"All done! Everything should be working perfectly now," Tails announced, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

As Tails stepped back to admire his work, he accidentally knocked over a bucket of cleaning supplies, soaking his leg. "Oh, no," he muttered, quickly setting the bucket upright

Mr. Wanny chuckled. "You saved the day, even if it was a bit messy. Thank you so much, Tails."

With a satisfied smile, Tails packed up his tools and prepared to head back to Cardinal Screams, his leg still damp but his spirits hig

SUMMARY^1: At the Opera House, Tails encounters Mr. Wanny, the operations manager, who explains the urgent issue with a broken lever in the stage light control panel. After inspecting it, Tails successfully repairs the lever, restoring functionality to the lighting system. Despite a small mishap with a bucket of cleaning supplies, Mr. Wanny expresses gratitude, and Tails leaves with his spirits high, ready to return to work at Cardinal Screams.

SUMMARY^2: Tails faces a demanding workday at Cardinal Screams, where he must keep his true age a secret. He's sent to the Opera House to fix a critical lighting issue, displaying his mechanical prowess and earning Mr. Wanny's gratitude after a successful repair.

Meanwhile, in the projection room of the Opera House, a man with a distinctive egg-shaped body and a nervous demeanor adjusted his glasses. This was Robotnik, known to many as Eggman. His eyes flicked nervously from one investor to another, trying to read the room as his assistant continued to load film reels.

Eggman was presenting his latest project: filming nature footage in the most dangerous of territories. The room was tense as the investors watched the footage, their expressions unreadable.

How much more is there?" Zelman, one of the investors, asked impatiently.

Another five reels," Eggman's assistant replied.

This is it? This is what we get for our investment?" the thuggish investor growled, clearly unimpressed and annoyed.

Eggman swallowed hard, trying to muster his confidence. "There's more to come," he assured them, hoping to salvage the presentation.

The lights suddenly come up, flooding the room. A sleazy-looking Mobian moose investor wakes with a start.

This is it? This is what we get for our forty grand, Eggman? Another one of your Safari pictures?" the thuggish investor

You promised us romantic scenes with Bruce Baxter and Maureen McKenzie," the sleazy investor adds.

Denham, another investor, tries to calm the situation. "Come on, fellas - you know the deal - we agreed to push Maureen’s start date so she could get her teeth fixed."

"It's not the principle of the thing - it's the money," the thuggish investor insists

"Carl - you’ve been in production for over

SUMMARY^1: Eggman presents his film project to investors in the Opera House projection room, showcasing dangerous nature footage. The atmosphere is tense as one investor, Zelman, questions the value of the five reels presented. A sleazy Moose investor complains about the lack of romantic scenes with Bruce Baxter and Maureen McKenzie, and the thuggish investor is unhappy with the return on their investment. Denham defends Eggman, mentioning Maureen's dental work delay, but the thuggish investor remains adamant about the financial concerns, hinting at potential trouble for the project's future.

Eggman, trying to maintain his composure, assures them, "Trust me, Bruce and Maureen are gonna steam up the screen - once we get them on the ship.""What ship?" Zelman asks, confused.

The one we’ve hired to get to the location," Eggman explains hurriedly, standing up as Zelman turns on him.

Zelman, increasingly frustrated, responds, "What location? Eggman - you’re supposed to be shooting on the backlot.

Eggman, with growing excitement, continues, "Yes, I understand that - but fellas, we’re not making that film anymore - and I’ll tell you why.

Eggman gets out of his seat and moves to the front of the room. "The story has changed, the script has been rewritten." He pulls a tattered map from his pocket and holds it up. "Life intervened! I’ve come into possession of a map. The sole surviving record of an ancient civilization!""Whoa! Carl - slow down!" Zelman interrupts."Is he askin’ for more money?" the sleazy investor questions

Is he askin’ for more money?" the sleazy investor questions."He's asking us to fund a wild goose chase," the thuggish investor adds.

Eggman persists, "I'm talking about a primitive world ... never before seen by man! The ruins of an entire civilization - the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen!" He pauses dramatically. "That’s where I’ll shoot my picture!"

Silence fills the room for a beat.

Will there be boobies?" the sleazy investor breaks the silence

Excuse me, boobies?" Eggman responds,

bewildered.

SUMMARY^1: In the heated discussion, Eggman reveals a new direction for his film project, involving an ancient civilization discovered through a map he found. Despite the investors' skepticism, especially regarding additional costs and the absence of the promised romantic scenes, the sleazy investor humorously asks if the new film will feature any nudity, bringing a moment of confusion to the tense atmosphere.

SLEAZY INVESTOR Jigglies, jablongers, bazoomers! ... In my experience people only go to these films to observe the ... undraped form of the native girls.

Eggman, furious, snaps back, "What are you - an idiot? You think they asked De Mille to waste his time on nudie shots? No - they respected the filmmaker, they showed some class! Not that you’d know what that means - you cheap low-life!"

Zelman shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the thuggish investor leans forward, sensing tension

Would you step outside for a moment, Carl?" Zelman finally suggests, gesturing towards the lobby.

Eggman nods, silently acknowledging the request, and exits the screening room with his long-suffering assistant, Preston, waiting for him on a sofa.

Preston, give me that," Eggman demands, pointing urgently at a glass of water on the table beside Preston

"You won’t like it, it’s non-alcoholic!" Preston warns, handing him the glass.

Ignoring the warning, Eggman promptly empties the glass into a nearby pot plant. "Preston, you have much to learn about this business," he remarks cryptically.

Inside, Zelman tried to calm the investors. "Don't write him off, fellas. He’s hot-headed, sure, but Robotnik has made some interesting pictures. He’s had a lot of ... near success."

"An ambitious no-talent! The guy has 'loser' written all over him," the thuggish investor argued.

"Look, I understand your disappointment," Zelman began, but the thuggish investor cut him off. "He’s washed up—it's all over town!"

: Eggman's anger flares when the sleazy investor suggests nudity in the film, prompting a heated exchange. Zelman attempts to defuse the situation by proposing a break. In the lobby, Eggman takes a non-alcoholic drink from Preston and pours it into a plant, highlighting his frustration. Meanwhile, Zelman defends Eggman's filmmaking abilities to the investors, emphasizing his potential for success despite the current tension and negative reputation within the industry.

He can’t direct. He doesn’t have the smarts," the sleazy investor added

This jumped up little turd’s gonna bankrupt us," the thuggish investor concluded.

Zelman sighed. "The animal footage has value?"

Sure ... Universal are desperate for stock footage," the sleazy investor replied.

Then sell it! Scrap the picture! We gotta retrieve something from this debacle," the thuggish investor decided.

Zelman nodded and gestured to a young assistant.

Zelman turned to the young assistant standing nearby. "Get him back in here," he instructed, gesturing towards the closed door.

The assistant nodded and opened the door, only to find the lobby eerily empty.

Mr. Robotnik?" he called out, puzzled by Eggman's absence

But Eggman and Preston were already gone, their figures disappearing into the crowded New York sidewalk, weighed down by eight film cans. Eggman glanced over his shoulder, his mind racing with plans. "I want the cast, crew, and all the equipment on that ship within 24 hours."

Preston protested, struggling to keep up. "No, Robotnik, you can’t do this!"

"Tell ‘em the studio’s pressured us into an early departure," Eggman retorted, his determination unwavering.

"It’s not ethical!" Preston argued, desperate to reason with his driven boss.

What are they gonna do—sue me? They can get in line! I’m not going to let them kill my film," Eggman declared defiantly, forging ahead with his bold plan.

As they crossed a busy road, Preston hurried behind. "You realize none of the camera equipment is on board. We have no permits... no visas..."

Eggman flagged down a cab. "We’ll make it work, Preston. We have to."

Preston adds, "We have no insurance, no foreign currency—in fact, we have no currency of any kind—"

Eggman, looking back across the street, sees an angry investor heading towards them. "Get in!" he shouts, bundling Preston into the cab.

Preston, panicked, asks, "Who’s gonna pay for the ship?"

An investor grabs at the partially open back window of the cab, but they drive off just in time.

Eggman, determined, says, "We’ll find a way. We always do.

. NY CAB - DAY

Time:12:30 pm

Preston and Eggman sat in the back seat. Preston was scribbling on a notepad feverishly, while Eggman glanced out of the window occasionally.

Eggman," Preston began, breaking the silence, "Mr. Walker's finest, red label, 80% proof. Packed in a crate marked 'lemonade

Eggman nodded approvingly. "You got it... And tell Sally—she doesn’t have six hours to put on her face. If she wants to be in this picture, she’s gotta be on that boat!"

Preston's expression turned serious. "She doesn’t want to be in this picture."

Eggman stared at Preston in disbelief. "Sally pulled out? Yesterday? I wasn't informed.

Preston nodded solemnly. "Yes, I told you.

"You said we were shooting in Singapore, right? That’s what you told her?"

"But we’re not shooting in Singapore.""

Goddammit, Preston! All you had to do is look her in the eye and lie Eggman turns away, his brain whirring with thoughts.

Back Tails sat at his cluttered workbench, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting shadows on the scattered tools and blueprints. His fur was damp with sweat, and his usually bright blue eyes were tinged with red from lack of sleep. His stomach grumbled, and he glanced at the clock on the wall—12:30 PM. He muttered to himself, "I need some sleep."Suddenly, the sound of his smartphone

What's happening now?" Tails grumbled as he answered the

The AI assistant's voice responded, "Incoming call. Would you like to answer?"

Who is it?" Tails asked, trying to stay focused.

The AI voice announced, "New call from Amy Rose and Cream the Rabbit

Tails sighed. "Okay, put them through."

The smartphone's camera activated, showing Amy, the pink hedgehog, and Cream, the younger rabbit.

"Hi, Tails!" Amy greeted.

"Hi, Amy. Hi, Cream," Tails replied, attempting a smile. "What happened?

Yeah, Tails," Amy added, inspecting his appearance. "Your fur and eyes look terrible. Have you had any rest or even taken a bath?"

Tails chuckled weakly. "Yes, I'm okay. It's just hard work. Uh, what call now? Another broken thing?"

Amy shook her head. "No, you need to ask something else. Uh, come on, want to come to a party?"

Tails hesitated. "No, sorry girls, not today."

Why not?" Amy and Cream asked simultaneously.

Tails sighed, "My boss punished me for being late. If I'm late again, I'll be dismissed."

Amy's expression grew concerned. "Is he that strict?"

Tails nodded. "Yeah, he doesn't tolerate late people. He says it's about money."

Amy's eyes widened. "But it's not fair for you to work like this, Tails. You're too young to handle so much stress!"

Tails looked panicked, glancing around to ensure no one overheard. "Quiet, girls," he whispered. "No one can know my real age. I need the money. Don't worry about me, I'm okay."

Amy looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Tails smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Things could be worse."

"I miss you, brother," Tails whispered.

The call ended, and Tails sighed deeply. He looked at the photos on his desk, one of a brown hedgehog hugging a younger fox.

"I miss you, brother," Tails whispered.

Suddenly, his desk phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. Tails picked up the receiver and said, "with something mechanical?"

The voice on the other end said, "The restaurant needs help again. Can you come ove.

Jake again? Alright, I'm on my way." Tails quickly gathered his tools. "Bye, brother," he said to the photo before dashing out the door.

As he hurried down the street, he heard a scream and stopped, curious. He saw a vendor angrily grabbing a bat woman by the arm. Without hesitation, Tails leaped into action. "Excuse me," he said, approaching the vendor.

"Stay out of this, boy," the vendor growled. "This bat was trying to steal from me."

The bat woman's eyes were wide with fear. "No, I was just looking," she protested.

The vendor shook his head. "I saw you trying to take an apple."

Tails kept his voice calm. "If there's a problem, we can sort it out without violence. Here, I'll pay for the apple."

The vendor hesitated, then nodded and released the bat woman, accepting the money. "Okay, but don't let this happen again."

No problem," Tails replied with a smile. He glanced at his wristwatch and panicked. "Oh no, I'm going to be late!" He dashed off, thinking, "I wish I could fly. It would be so much easier. But no, I'm just a fox. Foxes don't fly."

Tails ran as fast as his legs could carry him, navigating the bustling streets. He finally reached the restaurant. He hurried inside and found Jake, a burly human with a stern expression, waiting for him.

He sprinted through the bustling streets, finally reaching the restaurant, where Jake, a burly human with a stern expression, awaited him

You're late, Tails," Jake said in a thick Italian accent, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Jake. I ran into some trouble on the way," Tails explained, catching his breath

Trouble? What kind of trouble?" Jake asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Just a small misunderstanding with a vendor," Tails replied. "It's all sorted out now. What seems to be the problem here?"

Jake sighed. "My robot is acting up again."

Tails nodded, already in work mode. "Which one?"

It's the waiter robot again," Jake replied.Tails nodded. "Alright, let's get it fixed."

tood next to a large oven. Its LED eyes blinked with a soft blue light, and its metallic arms moved with precision as it prepared pizzas. "This one," Jake said, pointing to the robot. "It's been acting up again. Keeps overheating and slowing down during peak hours."

Tails inspected the robot carefully, noting the slight discoloration around its joints indicating overheating issues. "Looks like it's struggling with heat dissipation," Tails muttered to himself. He began to dismantle a panel on the robot's side, revealing a complex network of circuits and cooling fans.

Jake watched intently as Tails worked, occasionally nodding in approval at Tails' methodical approach. "You sure you can fix it?" Jake asked skeptically.

Tails glanced up briefly, his focused expression softening into a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Jake. I've seen this before. Just needs some adjustments to the cooling system."

While Tails worked, Jake recounted the robot's recent performance issues. "It's been a nightmare, especially with the crowds we get for the lunch rush."

Jake watched intently as Tails worked, occasionally nodding in approval at Tails' methodical approach. "You sure you can fix it?" Jake asked skeptically.

Tails glanced up briefly, his focused expression softening into a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Jake. I've seen this before. Just needs some adjustments to the cooling system."

While Tails worked, Jake recounted the robot's recent performance issues. "It's been a nightmare, especially with the crowds we get for the lunch rush."

Tails nodded, his nimble hands moving quickly as he replaced worn parts and tweaked the cooling system. "These fans are clogged with grease. They need regular maintenance."

"Well, I'm not exactly a robotics expert," Jake said with a shrug.

No problem," Tails replied, his voice muffled by the robot's innards. "It's all part of the job."

As Tails put the final screws back in place, the robot's LED eyes blinked back to a steady blue, and its movements grew smoother.

"Looks like we're all set," Tails said, wiping his hands on a grease-stained cloth. He stepped back to admire his work, watching the robot move gracefully across the kitchen floor.

Jake clapped his hands together. "Perfecto! You're a lifesaver, Tails."

Tails grinned, his tail swishing behind him. "Just doing my job, Jake. Now, let's test it out."

Unbeknownst to Tails, as he bid farewell to Jake and left the restaurant, Eggman he observed the encounter from a nearby alleyway. His interest was piqued by the young fox's mechanical prowess and bravery. As the robotic waiter whirred back to life, serving steaming hot pizzas to eager customers, Eggman's mind raced with possibilities. He knew he needed someone like Tails for his ambitious film project.

As Tails left the pizzeria, unaware of Eggman's watchful eyes, he felt a mix of relief and satisfaction. Fixing the robot had been challenging, but seeing it operate smoothly again gave him a sense of accomplishment. However, the stress of his job and the constant fear of being discovered weighed heavily on him.

Excuse me," Eggman's voice interrupted Tails' thoughts.

Tails turned around to see Dr. Eggman standing there, his round shape and steely gaze making him instantly recognizable. Tails hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Um, hi sir," he finally managed to say, trying to keep his tone respectful despite his nerves.

Eggman stepped out of the shadows, his arms folded behind his back. "Hello, young fox,"

My name Robotnik Carl, but you can call me Eggman," the peculiar man introduced himself, extending a hand.

Later Tails is eating from a FULL PLATE, trying to disguise his hunger from the people around him. He's sitting at a small table in a noisy, bustling café, surrounded by the aroma of various dishes and the chatter of the patrons. He's been working non-stop since dawn, with only brief moments to grab a bite. His stomach growls again, reminding him that he can't let his guard down. He takes a deep breath and shovels another mouthful of food into his mouth

Eggman walks over carrying a CUP of COFFEE.

Mind if I join you?" he asks, his tone surprisingly friendly.

Tails nods, wary but too hungry to refuse. Eggman sits down and takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Tails.

"You're quite the little body mechanic, aren't you?" Eggman says, his gaze piercing.

Tails swallows his food, feeling a mix of pride and apprehension. "Thanks," he replies, trying to keep his cool. "It's just something I'm good at."

Eggman leans in closer. "I'm looking for someone with your talents. I need a skilled hand for my latest project. It's an adventure of a lifetime, and I think you'd be perfect."

Tails' eyes widen, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of project?"

Eggman smiles, his mustache twitching slightly. "A film project, my dear Tails. A documentary, if you will, about the wild and unexplored corners of our very own planet. And not just any corners," he says, leaning in closer. "I've uncovered something extraordinary, something that could change the course of history."

Tails's heart races at the mention of adventure. "Where are you planning to film?"

"Ah, that's the secret," Eggman says with a twinkle in his eye. "But let's just say it's an island untouched by modern civilization, filled with mysteries and ancient secrets."

Tails's interest is piqued, but he remains cautious. "What do you need me for?"

Eggman leans back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on Tails. "I need someone who can fix anything, anywhere, at a moment's notice. And I've heard whispers of your extraordinary skills."

Tails feels a surge of excitement, but he's also wary. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" Eggman laughs. "There's no catch, just a chance to leave this mundane life behind and become part of something legendary. Plus," he adds with a wink, "you'll get to travel and see the world like you've never seen it before."

Tails considers the offer, his mind racing with thoughts of adventure and escape from his current life. "But what if my boss doesn't let me go?"

Eggman's smile grew wider, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Leave that to me," he said with a wink. "I have ways of ... convincing people."

Tails felt a twinge of unease at the thought of someone else dealing with his boss, but the promise of adventure was too tempting. "What would I be doing exactly?" he asked, trying to get more information without revealing his true age.

Eggman leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You'd be my personal mechanic. Keeping all our gear in tip-top shape. And perhaps," he added with a knowing look." Assistant help the cast and crew with any... unforeseen issues."

Tails took a bite of his sandwich, mulling over the offer. The thought of adventure and discovery thrilled him, but he had responsibilities and secrets to protect. "What about pay?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Ah, the universal concern," Eggman chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll be compensated more than fairly. Plus, think of the experience and the stories you'll have to tell!"

Tails couldn't argue with that. The idea of seeing new places and making a difference was too tempting. He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and wiped his mouth with the napkin. "Okay, I'm in," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Eggman's smile grew into a full grin. "Excellent!

"Now, there's one more thing," he said, his tone turning serious. "We leave tomorrow late i need search New cast and crew member," he called out, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

Tails's heart raced. "Tomorrow? That's so soon!"

"Time waits for no one, especially not for those who wish to make history," Eggman said, his voice filled with urgency. He handed Tails the paper with the address of the dock where the ship was docked. "Be there at sharp latest 5 pm, and don't tell anyone where you're going."

Tails nodded, his mind racing with excitement and anxiety. "What do I need to bring?"

"Just your toolkit and a change of clothes," Eggman replied, his smile never wavering. "Phone no good there, no signal. We're going off the grid

Tails nodded, his heart racing. "Okay, I'll be there."

Eggman rose from his seat. "Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need search now cast and crew member, so many to choose from in this vast city," he said, gesturing grandly around them.

Tails watched him go, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. He had always dreamed of adventure, but he had never imagined it would come so suddenly or from such an unexpected source. As he finished his meal, he couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.

Thanks for brother," Tails whispered to himself as he stowed his tools and left the café. The evening air was cool, and the neon lights of the city reflected off the wet streets, painting a vibrant picture that seemed to mirror the turmoil in his thoughts.

To be continued...

Next episode soon

#sonic the hedgehog #rouge the bat #eggman #king kong au #miles tails prower

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admiral-mason · 2 years

Text

You Reap What You Sow - Chapter 5

Genshin Impact SAGAU X Iron Harvest 1920+

The Everwinter’s Embrace

You felt the Samson descend until it came to a halt. Your rifthound buddy woke up and started wagging its tail, eager to get moving. “We’re here at Snezhnaya, your grace! Here, let me get you something to keep you warm.” William said, as he went to a side compartment of the Samson, pulling out a white buttoned trenchcoat covered in golden lacings and beige fur, complete with a hood. It went all the way down to your legs, likely to keep them warm without pants (you can’t change here, after all.) He then pulled out a pair of black winter boots.

You noticed that there were shield emblems representing the four nations of Iron Harvest near the wrist sections. On the right sleeve was the emblems of Polania and Rusviet, and on the left sleeve was the emblem of Saxony and Usonia. Slightly above the heart section was an electricity shield made out of bronze, with an electric blue lightning bolt in the center. This likely symbolized Tesla’s Factory. The boots were comfortable too.

“We only used the finest of our materials to make these clothing items. Do you like 'em?“ William asked. You put it on and it felt very comfortable. The interior was laced with more fur, making you even warmer. “I love them.“ You replied. “Tell those who worked on this that they all did a great job.“

“I will. Alright, now a few things before you’re off. The Tsaritsa and the Fatui wanted to meet you first, so you’ll be staying with them for three days at the Zapolyarny Palace. Afterwards, you’ll be picked up via another Samson to head to the Ironside Quadripartite. Once you exit this airship, forces from Nikola Tesla will escort you to the palace.”

“Alright, I got it.“ You said to William. “Come on, little buddy. We’re going now.“ William helped you and your rifthound buddy out of the Samson as you took a few steps into this cold, frosty land. The trenchcoat and boots certainly kept you warm. You then heard the Samson taking off again, and then William say goodbye to you. “Farewell for now, your grace! We’ll see you in three days!” You simply waved back at him until the airship seemingly disappeared into the cold fog.

Upon finishing your waving, you turned around to see seven spider-like robots walking towards you in a hexagon formation. They made what appeared to be happy click-clack noises as your pet growled at them in intimidation.

“Stand down, boy. They’re friendly.” You recognized these robots. They’re TF-377 Slugas, produced by the Tesla’s Factory. They can melee attack, commandeer various control panels, and repair damaged machinery. You walked up to each of them, giving a headpat while your buddy played a friendly game of tag with one of them.

“стваралац!” You looked up and saw nine soldiers on what appear to be long metal stilts wearing backpacks glowing an electric blue. They also wielded rifles with external modifications on them.

TF-233 Šetačs. Soldiers wielding railguns on cutting-edge exosuits. You could easily recognize these. Trailing close behind them is a bipedal bronze robot with beetle-like armor, possessing what appeared to be a cannon, multi-barrel guns, and four guns at the top of the main body. That’s a TF-987 Čuvar, a powerful dual-mode mech capable of using both an offensive and defensive mode.

“We’ve been sent by Nikola Tesla himself to guard you. I am sure William Mason told you about this, yes?” The frontmost soldier asked you. “Yes, he did. Also just gonna be honest here. I never thought I got to see you guys up close!“ You replied back, amazement in your voice.

Tesla units are never available in Iron Harvest to players by default. The closest you have ever gotten to them was either escorting them in that one World Map campaign mission or when they actually assisted you in assaulting Rusviet’s capital in the same mode.

“Well, you’re seeing all of us Tesla soldiers up close, стваралац. Follow us, we know where Zapolyarny Palace is.“ The šetačs started moving as you and your buddies catched up with them.

You all were currently walking in a forest separated by an icy blue path, your rifthound buddy and the slugas running in circles as you all went. The footsteps of your boots and soft mechanical whirs of the šetačs further added to the cold yet soft vibe.

You nearly slipped on the path after a while of walking, but you managed to catch your balance. “Careful now, стваралац! We don’t want you getting harmed.”

“I’ll be fine,“ you told the soldier. “I’m more worried about you slipping rather than me.“ You’re on foot and they’re on stilts. It’s absurd how they haven’t managed to slip over yet. “Alright then, стваралац. We’ll be careful.“

You and your escort group reached Zapolyarny Palace after around ten minutes of walking. When you got up close, you noticed how similar it was to the Winter Palace in Russia. However, it was in many shades of icy blue, with a lot more curved aspects compared to the original.

Reaching the main entrance, you noticed that the three double doors had patterns of flowers and symmetrical icebergs. In the middle of all of them was a baby blue cryo symbol made out of tinted metal.

Two Pyroslinger Bracers guarded the main doors, with various other guards protecting all the secondary doors and rooftops. “Your grace. We have been expecting your arrival. Come, the Tsaritsa and her harbingers have been awaiting you.” The left bracer said as he and the other bracer opened the double doors allowing for you to enter.

“Us and the čuvar shall help the guards protect your presence. You go on in with your pet and the Slugas. They seem to be getting along well.“ The lead šetač said as the čuvar activated its defensive mode, retracting its cannon and forming itself into a cocoon-like structure.

Walking in the main doors with the bracer and your buddies, you were introduced with the palace square. It was full of blue flowers and trees of varying shades. You then had a realization in mind. These plants are starting to die out due to the eternal winters. You then thought about how it was just stuck in the back of your head until now. Guess your ‘divine creator’ senses are coming back to you.

You also noticed the other pyroslinger bracer run in the square into a section of the building. You assumed that he was going to inform the Tsaritsa and the Harbingers of your arrival.

Your pet and the Slugas both asked for headpats. You pat them both and the pyroslinger took notice.

“Are those your pets?“ He asked. “Yeah, I guess so. I took in the rifthound a few hours ago and the slugas a few minutes ago.“ You replied as they both walked up to him for headpats.

“Who’s the good boys here? You are, you all are!“ The bracer said as he headpat them all. This may be a cold land, but you’re already feeling much more warmth here compared to the other nations.

Translations:

стваралац - Serbian for ‘creator’ sluga - Bosnian (and Romanian) for ‘servant‘ šetač - Serbian for ‘walker‘ čuvar - Serbian for ‘guard‘

Genshin Impact is owned by miHoYo. Iron Harvest 1920+ is owned by Jakub Różalski and KING Art Games.

#sagau #genshin impact #genshin sagau #iron harvest #iron harvest x genshin impact

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