#also since moving more bots have followed me here when it very clearly states which blog ive moved to

[pipermca]

K-9: Part 1

For this year's TF Big Bang event, I originally started off with a different idea than the one I ended up running with. However, I did write about 7500 words of this idea before giving it up as far too long for me to finish in the time available.

That said, I'm still interested in working on this fic, but I don't know when I'll have the time or energy. So I'm working on cleaning up what I do have of this story, and I'll serialize it here. If I end up writing any more, I'll add it here. (This post will contain the first instalment, as well as act as the index/masterpost for the whole thing.) In later instalments there will be illustrations, since this story idea was partially based on a toy. (And man, if I had a IDW2 MP-scaled Barricade figure, I'd be able to do a LOT of illos. 😄).

Enjoy.

No content warnings. Relationships: Barricade & Prowl, Bluestreak & Prowl, Prowl & OC

******************

Part 1

"After we turn in our reports, did you want to come to the Rusty Strut with me and the others?" Barricade asked.

Prowl settled on his wheels. "No."

"Aww, come on." Barricade swerved slightly to chime his fender against Prowl's. "You never go out with us. I'm starting to think you don't like me."

As they reached the station, Prowl transformed and frowned at his partner. "The only time I went to the bar with you and the others, I somehow got stuck paying the entire tab," he said. He flicked his wings as he turned his back on Barricade. "I have no desire for a repeat of that situation."

Barricade caught up to Prowl at the curb. "That's because you were new! It's tradition!" He slung his arm around Prowl's shoulders. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Regardless, my answer is still no," Prowl said, shrugging out from under Barricade's arm. "It is simply an activity I have no interest in. I am only here to-"

With a scoff, Barricade threw up his hands. "I know, I know. I've heard you say it enough." He rolled his optics. "You're just here to do a job, not to make friends." He frowned at Prowl. "You know this isn't Praxus, right? There's more to life than just being a tool of the state. Things like making friends, or having fun." Marching ahead of Prowl, he glanced over his shoulder. "You should try it some time."

Prowl shook his head. It had been a big change for him, moving from Praxus to Iacon. He missed the order of Praxus, where everyone knew their role and rules were clearly defined and followed. But because of that order, being an Enforcer there was... Well, it was not very challenging. Iacon, on the other hand, was larger and more chaotic. Bots had much more freedom to do what they wanted, which also meant that the peace was harder to maintain. But it also meant that the work of keeping that peace was more interesting.

Moving from being a Praxus Enforcer to becoming a member of the Iacon Watch was a huge shift for Prowl, but he took his job seriously. And doing his job did not mean spending time with his fellow constables in bars or dancitrons.

As Prowl and Barricade walked into the precinct, the desk clerk held up a hand to the bot he was talking to. "Just a sec- Hey! Prowl! The Captain wants to see you in her office right away."

Barricade lifted a brow ridge at Prowl. "What did you do?"

"I did not do anything, except my job," Prowl said, mystified.

Barricade rolled his optics again. "Yeah, I know," he said. "I hope you're not getting canned. I really don't want to break in another partner."

"I will come back as soon as possible to finish filing our report," Prowl said as he turned towards the Captain's office.

"You better!" Barricade called after him. "You know I hate doing reports!"

Prowl wracked his processor for any clues as to why the Captain of the Inner Watch would want to see him. Discipline was usually left up to the sergeants, but Streetwise had not mentioned any shortcomings in Prowl's performance to him. As far as Prowl knew, he had done everything expected and to the required parameters. His regular reviews had always been glowing. He had no idea what the Captain could want with him.

Prowl paused just outside the Captain's office and knocked on the open door. "You asked to see me, sir?"

Captain Overdrive looked up from her work and waved him in. "Prowl! Yes, come in. Close the door, please." She gestured at the chair in front of him and watched as Prowl took a seat. "You've been with the Iacon Watch for quite a while, yes? Are you enjoying the work?"

From his seat, Prowl could plainly see his personnel file open on the Chief's desk. He suppressed a nervous flick of his sensor wings. "I have been with the Iacon Watch for a year. And I am enjoying the work, yes," he said. "It is more of a challenge for me than what I found in the Praxus Enforcers."

Overdrive made a thoughtful noise and flipped through a few screens in Prowl's file. "You've had nothing but commendations. Not a single complaint so far. That's surprising, considering your partner." She flashed Prowl a knowing smile, then leaned back in her chair. "And you said you enjoy the challenge?"

"Yes, sir."

"In what way?"

"The work is varied. On patrol, we see something different every day. Analyzing each situation and determining the best course of action possible within the confines of our mandate is appealing to me." Prowl lifted his sensor wings. "It is very different than the work I was doing in Praxus."

"I can understand that." The Captain nodded thoughtfully. "I know the crime rate in Praxus is very low. The Enforcers there seem mostly for show, honestly."

Prowl did not think that was a completely honest assessment of the work the Enforcers did there, but he did not see the point in arguing with the Captain. "Yes, sir," he said instead.

"Your record from Praxus is impressive. Wanting a new challenge does explain why you wanted to make the move to Iacon," Overdrive said. "But I can't help feeling that we aren't utilizing you in the best possible way."

"Sir?"

"Would you be interested in something a bit more challenging? Perhaps in one of our special units?"

Special units! If Prowl could possibly have sat up even straighter in his chair, he would have. "I would be interested, yes, depending on the unit. Some of them do extremely important, very interesting work."

Overdrive nodded and glanced back down at Prowl's file, tabbing through a few more screens. "Do you consider yourself a mechanimal bot?"

Prowl cycled his optics. "A... I am sorry, a what?"         

"Someone who likes mechanimals. You know, felinoids, zap ponies, wirehounds, whatever." Overdrive waved her hand at Prowl's file. "It says here you had an organic for a pet when you lived in Praxus."

"Yes... I did." Prowl's wings twitched as his processor churned through scenarios trying to figure out what his personal life had to do with being transferred to a special unit. "I had a flyt."

"Did you train it yourself?"

When Prowl's processor came up empty on a rational explanation for the Captain's line of questioning, he decided that the only thing to be done was answer the questions as best he could. "Yes, sir. I got her when she was just a hatchling and started training her right away. I needed to make sure she could be left alone in my flat without causing a disturbance." He dipped his wings when he realized why the fact that he had a pet flyt was in his file. "Keeping organics in your living quarters was considered irregular in Praxus, so I wanted to make certain there was no reason for anyone to file a complaint with the Garaging Authority."

"What sorts of things did you train it to do?"

"I trained her to come when she was called and to stay on her perch when commanded. Additionally, I trained her to sit on my shoulder, and to fly through a hoop that I had made for her. She could also do loops in midair, although she needed enough space to perform one." Prowl thought back to the tiny flyt, and how she would chirp and tilt her head when she wanted a little bit of extra skitter. Then he suppressed the emotional subroutines that always inserted themselves into his processor threads when he thought about Green. That wasn't useful right now. "And of course, to eliminate her waste in the proper receptacle."

"Oh, right. I guess that's something you have to think about with an organic." Overdrive laughed. "Mechanimals don't have that issue."

"No, sir."

"This flyt, did it obey your commands?"

"Yes, sir. She obeyed them very well, sir."

"How do you feel about wirehounds?"

Prowl felt off-balance. He could not figure out where the Captain's questions were leading to. "I do not know that I feel anything about them in particular."

"You're not afraid of them or anything like that, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Does your residence building have any rules about pets?"

"No, sir, except to ensure that they are well-behaved and do not cause a disturbance."

"Good." Overdrive blanked the datapad with Prowl's file on it and leaned forward, tenting her fingers together. "Prowl, I've been asked to find someone to head up Unit K-9, and I think you are the right bot for the job."

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Long Way From Home

Summary: Her arrival was an accident, but some blessings come in disguise.

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 4,466

* * * * * *

A long heavy sigh falls from the doctor’s lips, his fingers nervously cleaning his glasses.“ I’m just not too sure about this Tony. Last time we experimented on an infinity stone we-”

“Were severely uneducated.” The billionaire replies, pulling his usual smirk as he looks at Bruce.“ We’re in the right league now. And we’ve got back up, just in case.”

A chorus of grumbles sounds around the lab, each member of the team a little less than happy to be here at the moment but also not willing to allow another Ultron situation.

Steve sighs, almost as heavily as Bruce did, and crosses his arm.“ Just be careful Tony. We’ll shut this down if need be.”

Tony raises his hands in a show of innocence and nods,“ don’t worry Capsicle, we’ve got it under control.”

With those words spoken, Tony nods to Bruce who commences the first test of the Space and Time Stones.

Everyone stands with bated breaths as the stones spin in their chambers. There’s a brief flicker of the lights as the stones pull on the energy from the compound, in the dark it’s hard to see the chasm of space that appears in the gap between Wanda and Natasha.

When the lights finally come back in the room of, now armed, superheroes they all cautiously take in their surroundings.

“Why do all these science experiments involve children?” Steve asks frustratedly.

Natasha frowns, tilting her head at him in confusion,“ Rogers what kid?”

The blonde man slowly lowers his shield and nods behind her. Frown deepening, Natasha slowly turns around, using every bit of her willpower to stop her jaw from dropping.

Standing a few feet shorter than her, is a little girl. Her eyes scan the girls body, searching first for any signs of injury and second for any clues as to how she got here. Instead of finding those things, Natasha discovers the child's very clear state of horror.

Glancing around at her family, some members of which are still holding weapons, Natasha understands how terrifying this must be to a kid.

Quickly disarming her widows bites, Natasha lowers herself to catch the e/c eyes of the red haired little girl. Smiling as softly as she can, the ex-assassin nearly whispers,“ hi.”

The single word pulls the girl’s attention from the big scary Avengers, to Natasha. A look flashes through the girl’s eyes and she almost instantly calms down. Looking from Natasha’s eyes down to her feet, the little girl plays with her fingers, mumbling,“ hi.”

Once again Natasha glances back at her team, catching sight of Steve, Bruce, and Tony talking over by one of the desks, Sam and Bucky’s confused glances over her way, and Wanda’s soft yet confused eyes on her as well.

Looking at Natasha, Wanda finds a slightly panicked look in the Russian’s eyes. Slowly walking over, Wanda assumes the same position as Natasha, squatting and looking at the little girl.

“Hi,” she speaks quietly, a soft smile on her lips,“ my name is Wanda. What’s yours?”

Shyly looking at Wanda, the little girl quickly averts her gaze back to Natasha. An uncertainty sits in her eyes that makes Natasha incredibly curious. It’s not as if she’s uncertain of Natasha, it’s almost as if she’s asking for permission.

“I’m Natasha.” She says, in hopes that the little girl will take that as an invitation to tell her name.

She does, once again playing with her fingers.“ My name is Katya.”

“Katya is a very pretty name.” Wanda tells her.

That gets the girl to smile, a light blush coating her cheeks,“ my mommy says it means pure.”

Natasha nods,“ it does.” What’re the odds that she has a name of Russian origin.

“Um, ladies,” a deep, clearly nervous, voice speaks up behind Natasha and all their eyes move to Steve.“ I think it’s best we all leave, let the scientists finish their work uninterrupted.”

Work, as in finding out where this girl just came from and how to send her back.

Nodding in agreement, the two women stand up and look down at the girl,“ come on Katya, we’re going to go find somewhere else to relax okay?”

Katya nods hesitantly.

While Bruce and Tony get to work on finding Katya a way home, the rest of the team works on making sure she feels safe and as comfortable as she can be in an unknown environment. Even though they have their own questions and concerns, they’re more worried about keeping the child in a peaceful state.

Unsure of where to take a child in the compound, Natasha just follows Wanda’s lead.

A moment of shock hits her hard when she feels a soft little hand slip into hers. She’s tempted to jump away from the touch but oddly enough, the instant she looks down into soft e/c eyes she relaxes a little, allowing the child to hold her hand as they walk through the compound. Until they all end up in the common room.

Just as they’re all sitting down, the glass doors open and Natasha elicits the hardest eye roll at the announcement of her last teammate's arrival.

“Honeys I’m home!” You playfully exclaim as you walk into the common room, arms spread as one hand holds your duffle bag.

Sam and Wanda’s faces light up at your presence, surprisingly so does Katya’s. All three of them hold bright smiles, Wanda popping up off the couch to run over to you, wrapping you in a hug.

Arm wrapped around her, you and Wanda walk back over to everyone. Sam jumps up to give you a one armed hug and you get waves from everyone, everyone except one person. The one person who seems to dislike you the most.

“What Romanoff, I don’t get a-” your words fall short as you look at the person beside Natasha. Eyebrows raised you glance around at everyone, taking in their calm expressions and realizing they all obviously know something you don’t.

Clearing your throat, you smile softly at the little girl.“ Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Katya!” She exclaims, making everyone raise their eyebrows. Natasha frowns at it though. The little girl had been quieter than a mouse since appearing here and yet your presence draws out such an enthusiastic response.

You smile brightly at her,“ Katya is a gorgeous name.”

“Mommy says it means pure.” She exclaims again, slightly quieter than before.

“That’s beautiful, It’s clear your mommy really loves you,” you tell her, then looking around at everyone again,“ where exactly uh, is she?”

Steve stands up and nods for you to step over to him. As you do so you feel the eyes of the little girl on you. Off to the side of the room, Steve explains the situation to you. Everything he knows for that matter. And you laugh a little.

Leave it to Tony and Bruce to bring a child from some random place and time in space to the compound in one of their experiments.

“No murder bots though.” You say, patting his shoulder, then turning to look over at the little girl at Natasha’s side.

Something in the way she looks at Natasha tugs on your intrigue. Even more so, you’re intrigued by the way Natasha is with her. It’s clear she’s a little out of her comfort zone but she’s still very soft with the girl, delicately speaking to her.

You and Nat haven’t been on the best of terms for years. At one point, when you were just an enhanced agent at S.H.I.E.L.D, you and Natasha would work seamlessly together. You considered yourselves friends and quite honestly loved spending time together.

When it all went downhill you aren’t entirely sure(and neither is she if she’s being honest) but things have been tense between you two ever since. Little things you do annoy her and for whatever reason you now find her closed off personality to be a bit much.

Shaking your head to clear the thoughts away, you cross your arms over your chest,“ so what’s the plan Cap?”

“Not sure entirely,” he sighs softly,“ for now it’s to keep the kid safe and as happy as possible till we can get her home.”

You nod,“ sounds good.” Clapping your hands lightly, you grab everyone’s attention,“ Katya, you got a favorite movie girly?”

She nods excitedly,“ Little Mermaid. She has red hair like me.”

“I think your hair is prettier,” Natasha says with a soft nudge to Katya’s arm that makes the little girl blush and say a quiet thank you.

“To the theater then.” You say, once again smiling at her.

Everyone agrees and they all stand and start down the hall to the theater(once team movie night began a set thing, Tony had the theater built).

On the walk over, you can’t help but notice how Katya remains close to Natasha, following the redhead’s every move, all the while continuing to glance back at you.

Admittedly, there’s an odd feeling that stirs in your chest when her bright e/c eyes look into your e/c ones. There’s an abundant amount of love and admiration in them that could melt the coldest of hearts. Why that emotion is in her eyes as she looks at you makes you wonder, but you’ve decided not to think too hard on that for now.

However that exact feeling bursts forth in this very moment.

As you’re preparing the popcorn machine, everyone assumes a spot in the room. The little girl sits right beside Natasha as Sam tries to entertain her while Clint goes to put the movie. How does a grown man get a ten year old girl to have fun?

He challenges her to an arm wrestle. Apparently.

“Come on Lil Bit,” Sam eases himself to the floor opposite Katya,“ show me what you got?” His teasingly playful smile accompanies his action of resting his elbow on the table.

Katya glances up at Natasha uncertainly, as if asking permission. The redhead’s face projects her surprise but she quickly reigns it in, smiling a little and saying,“ go ahead. It’s about time someone put Wilson in his place.”

Unexpectedly, the little girl turns her gaze to you. You can only imagine your expression resembles Natasha’s. Only to soften as you smile and nod.

That’s all it takes for her to go along with it. She scoots to kneel on the floor across from Sam. Placing her elbow on the table and locking her hand with the older man’s.

It’s overly amusing to see how intrigued everyone in the room becomes. Bucky and Steve seem to be commenting on the little game as if it were the World Series. Sam pulls his game face. And Wanda and Clint keep their eyes trained on the hands of Sam and Katya.

A three second countdown is spoken before they both tense up their arms and fight to win.

Not a single soul in the room is expecting the outcome.

In a split second, Katya gains the upper hand, and slams Sam’s arm through the glass of the table. Wide eyes stare on in completely silent shock.

Katya drops Sam’s hand and pushes herself up and away from the table.“ I-I,” you can tell what’s about to happen before it does and you move without a single thought.

Food forgotten, you now kneel in front of Katya, gently grabbing her arms.“ Hey it’s okay, it’s okay.” Teary e/c eyes look at you and you feel your breath snatched away.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpers.

“It’s fine Katya. It was an accident,” you nod as if to convince her that it’s okay. It seemingly works as she nods as well.“ Are you hurt?” She shakes her head and you glance over at Sam.“ You alright Wilson?”

His face is still one of bewilderment but he nods,“ yeah, yeah I’m good.”

The whole room takes in the look on Katya’s face and it’s Steve that manages to break everyone’s frozen states.“ Kid’s got an arm.”

Wanda snorts first and it causes a ripple effect of laughs from the team. Slowly looking around at all of them, Katya’s tears dry up and she smiles softly.

You sigh inaudibly as she starts to laugh and funnily enough, when you look up, your relieved expression meets Natasha’s. There’s a slight moment between you two, your eyes locking as you share your relief over the little girl being okay. Whatever attachment you seem to have for the girl is obviously shared. But you also catch something else in her eyes, something that doesn’t have to do with the little girl.

However the moment is gone in the blink of an eye. You shake your head and focus on Katya.

Softly rubbing her arms, you smile at her and take her hand, guiding her back to the seat beside Natasha and she tugs on your hand,“ sit with me?” She asks.

And you nod without a thought of hesitation,“ just let me grab us some popcorn okay?” Nodding happily, she scoots back on the loveseat and looks at Natasha. They have a quiet conversation as you fix three small containers of popcorn. Holding them in your hands and going back over.

Even though it’s the smallest thing ever, Natasha makes a face of surprise when you hand her the popcorn after giving Katya hers. When she looks up at you, it’s like a smack in the face how similar she looks to the girl beside her.

“Thank you,” she murmurs and you nod dazedly.

It’s almost haunting to you how much they look alike. Katya’s eyes are e/c but that hair, her nose, even the shape of her eyes looks damn near exactly like Natasha. The thought sticks in your head throughout the entire movie, causing you to occasionally glance over at the little girl and Natasha.

About halfway through the movie, Katya falls asleep. Her body tilts towards you, her head resting on your arm as she sleeps quietly. Once everyone notices that the girl is asleep they start to leave out.

Steve’s first, and possibly only, thought is heading to the lab for an update from Tony and Bruce. Bucky and Sam are in the middle of a heated argument over Ariel’s decision to make a deal with Ursula. Clint left before the movie, having a wife and kids to get home to. Wanda lingered, glancing at you, Katya, and Natasha.

“Are you-” the younger woman stops,“ do you need any help with her?”

Before you can open your mouth to speak, Natasha does.“ I’m gonna stay up with them for a moment. Go get some sleep Wan.”

Wanda nods with a soft smile and you can see the sleepiness in her eyes. You return the smile and tell her a quick goodnight before she leaves out.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at Katya, a small smile on your lips at the sight of the young girl.“ You know, she looks like you.” You say, not knowing how else to voice your thoughts.

“Like me?” Natasha asks. The tone of her voice tells you that she realized that herself, probably thought about it for a bit, but possibly pushed it away.

You nod,“ that hair, her nose, her cheeks,” you look up from the girl to Natasha,“ I knew when I saw her she looked familiar but I guess I just didn’t put two and two together.”

“Well she’s got your eyes.” Natasha adds, raising her eyebrows at you as if to argue your point, but you just chuckle and nod.

Gently easing yourself away from the little girl, holding her up with your hand,“ she does.” Then you pick her up, holding her in your arms.

The way you’d done so makes Natasha’s eyebrows raise. For a moment she’s surprised to see you so familiarly handle Katya. Then she remembers that there were children as small as Katya in your family a few years ago. You’ve almost always been around little kids due to how often your siblings were popping out babies.

She remembers being around them often, before you two fell out. She’d been almost as close to your nieces and nephews as she is to the Bartons.

“Um, where is she sleeping?” You ask, glancing down at the little girl in your arms, her back softly rising and falling as she breathes.

Natasha shrugs,“ we can put her in one of the rooms in our hall.”

Nodding, you follow after the redhead, walking through the common room to the elevators, taking them up to the floor you and Nat sleep on. She opens the door to the room right beside yours(the room that used to be hers) and steps in after you as you carry the little girl to the bed.

As you lean down to lay her in the bed, her arms tighten around you, a little whimper leaving her lips that makes you instantly hold her closer. Frown on your face, you turn to look at Natasha who raises her eyebrows at you.

“Just lay her down Y/ln,” she whispers at you.

You sigh turning back to the bed to try again, but the instant you lower your upper body down she clings to you. Once again you turn to Natasha who looks at you frustratedly.

“Just. Put. Her. Down.” She continues to whisper, now aggressively pointing at you then the bed.

Your frown deepens and you place your hand on the back of Katya’s head, as if shielding her from your equally aggressive whisper to Natasha.“ I can’t Romanoff, she won’t let me go and I’m not prying a child out of my arms.”

“Then I guess she’s sleeping with you.” She smiles sarcastically at you before turning and leaving the room, walking straight across the hall to her room.

With Katya still in your arms, you quietly sigh and ease yourself on to the bed, gently laying back with the little girl still in your arms.

The moments before you fall asleep are full of you thinking. All about Katya and Natasha.

Not knowing where Katya came from drives you a little crazy over the next couple of days. But you manage to never make that known to the little girl. She’s the sweetest kid, her innocence adding something to the compound you hadn’t ever felt before.

That attachment you and Natasha felt towards her the first day, grows stronger. So strong that the little girl takes turns sleeping in both yours and Natasha’s rooms. Her presence draws yourself and Natasha closer and while it doesn’t feel like it had all those years ago, it feels really good to be able to talk to her again.

Today officially marks a week with Katya and while you haven’t fallen into a complete routine, things have been a lot calmer since the first day of her being here. You all have accepted that she’s sticking around until Tony and Bruce find her a way home. So for now your main goal is making sure she’s comfortable here.

After having taken Katya with you on your run with Steve, she wasn’t the happiest when you left her with Wanda in the kitchen to go take your shower, but you promised to come back. Which you did.

Now you stand at the counter, making a pot of coffee after Sam and Tony drank the first one and didn’t refill it, as Katya helps Wanda bake muffins for breakfast.

A gasp followed by an adorable little giggle hits your ears and you turn around to see Natasha now beside Katya, a bit of flour on her finger. One look at Katya’s face, the flour swiped across her forehead, you know what happened.

Smiling softly at them, you catch Natasha’s eyes.“ Coffee?” You ask quietly, voice barely above a whisper. But she catches it(mainly because her eyes had been on your lips before you even spoke) and nods.

Turning to the machine, you take down a mug and start to fix Natasha’s coffee just how she likes it. Smiling softly at her as you offer the mug up, her accepting it with a soft smile in return.

Both of you look back to Katya as she pours way more chocolate chips into the mix than necessary, then watching Wanda pour the mix into the pan.

As soon as they’re in the oven she claps excitedly making all of you smile at her. The little redhead runs up to you and Natasha, looking up at you happily,“ mo-” she cuts herself off with an uncertain look and sighs, her smile slipping for a moment before she speaks again,“ I made muffins with Wan!”

You and Natasha share a quick look at Katya’s little slip but, not wanting to make her feel any worse than she seemed to have felt, you both move past it.

“We saw,” Natasha smiles at her,“ what kind of muffins?”

“Chocolate chip!”

Eyes widening in excitement, you look at her with your eyebrows raised,“ you know,” you squat down to look her directly in the eyes,“ chocolate chip is my favorite.”

Her smile gets even brighter,“ it’s mine too. Momma always gives me milk with it.”

Your jaw drops, continuing to show an abundance of excitement for the girl,“ that’s exactly how I like to eat my muffins. We’re gonna have milk when we eat these muffins okay?” She nods and you hold your hand up for a high five.

“Muffins are best with coffee.” Natasha says, shaking her head at both of you.

Katya shakes her head, mumbling quietly,“ you always say that.” She giggles softly.

Doing your best not to frown at her words, you wonder when Natasha may have said that to Katya over the last week and drawing a blank. Wanda hasn’t baked muffins in almost two weeks.

As you all wait for the muffins to finish, you move to the common room, sitting around on the couches, Katya finding her usual place between you and Natasha. The second you grab the remote she looks up at you, eyes soft as she silently asks for it and you sigh, handing it over without question.

Looking up you catch the green eyes of Natasha who quirks her eyebrow at you, a small knowing smirk on her face that makes you shake your head, mouthing ‘don’t say a word’ which makes her laugh quietly.

While waiting you all watch the cartoon Katya put on. Slowly the rest of your team trickles into the room, finding spots all around, finding entertainment in the cartoon.

Looking around at your team, a small smile pulls at your lips. More of than innocence showing itself in the moment.

A group of ex-assassins, ex-military men, a witch, former agent, doctor/green giant, and a billionaire all sit around the room watching a cat cause chaos with a walking fish. It’s already crazy to see all of you as the family that you are, to now see all of you so seemingly childish is crazier.

The episode goes off shortly after, a commercial, playing before yet another episode of the show starts up. Katya is so invested in the show she doesn’t pay a lick of attention to the timer going off in the kitchen.

Looking over at Wanda, you shrug with a smile and she chuckles softly, shaking her head.

Just as she stands up a blackhole like chasm forms in the common room.

Exactly like they had when Katya arrived, everyone once again produces their weapons seemingly from thin air. You pop up from the couch, moving the little girl to stand behind you as you accept the pistol Natasha hands you.

Every on guard stance slacks, expressions forming into very confused ones at the person who steps through the chasm. Long red curls fall down her shoulders, body clad in a black cat suit, all too familiar green eyes scanning the room, landing directly on you.

She smiles softly, then glances down behind you, that smile getting even brighter.

There’s an odd tug in your heart at the sight of Natasha’s smile. One that bright? You hadn’t seen in years. God you missed it. But that was the last thing you should be thinking about, not when the very woman smiling at you is also standing beside you.

“Um what-”

Tony’s question is cut short when Natasha squats down, still looking at the girl behind you,“ Katya, come here honey.”

“Mommy?” Katya peaks around your legs and smiles instantly at the sight of Natasha. Breaking away from you, she sprints over to her and throws her little arms around the woman’s neck.

Watching that whole interaction brings everything together in your head.

Tony and Bruce were running tests on the space and time stone. Of course some time traveling was possible. And of course on their very first test they bring Natasha’s daughter from the future.

Realizing that you’re slightly freaking out brings another thought to mind. If this is you panicking Natasha must be losing it.

A glance over shows her blank expression. Almost blank that is. Cause in her eyes you see the shock, the amazement, the wonder, the hope.

She noticed the similarities in her’s and Katya’s looks, she couldn’t ignore the attachment she and the little girl felt towards one another. This is why.

Looking up from the little girl to herself. She reads her lips, ‘now how did you end up fifteen years in the past malen'kiy?’

Fifteen years. In the past.

Katya is her daughter. She’s going to have a daughter in a few short years? With who? Is a question that quickly answers itself.

She and Katya slowly look over to everyone, green eyes and e/c ones scanning over the group then landing on you and Natasha and staying there.

Their gazes, looking into the e/c eyes that belong to the young redhead, you both come to the understanding. Which makes you both slowly look at each other.

You have a child together. You and Natasha end up with a kid.

“Where are momma and Domi?” Katya turns back to Natasha and asks.

Two children!!

Your next question is answered when you see the glint of the ring on Natasha’s finger.

Holy sh-

“Thank you for taking care of her.” Natasha says, offering each of you a smile, wasting no time in nodding, scooping up the little girl who waves to you all as they disappear into the void.

A long moment of silence passes, then Bruce sucks his teeth and Tony hums.“ No more playing with infinity stones.”

Still looking into Natasha’s eyes, you release a slightly shaky breath,“ holy shit.”

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Take Me to Your Leader.”

I hope you guys are all having a great week, and I hope you enjoy the read.

Captain Kell sat in his room's boots up on the small desk space as he watched the news report filtering in from over the feed.

“Early this morning the chairwoman of the UN has announced a state of emergency and launched a formal investigation into the attempted assassination of the GA’s Admiral Vir. This all comes in response to the announcement by UN president late last night  that they were unable to identify connections to any internal terrorist organizations after a woman was caught attempting to assassinate the Admiral during one of his speeches two months ago. The failed assassination was thanks to 25 year old marine Angle Ramirez who dove in front of the bullet for his commanding officer, and is now (as his family claims) fully healed and back to work. Since the incident, GA and UNSC leaders alike have encouraged Admiral Vir to stay away from earth as much as possible and remain on his ship until further notice.  At a request from one of our journalists yesterday morning, he agreed to a statement from his ship the Omen.”

There was a flickering on the screen as a face appeared  on the news feed. It was, somewhat from a distance, and the lens seems grainy from radiation interference, but the man seen was tall and blond and had one green eye though he was wearing an eyepatch. Captain kell thought he looked a little more lean than the admiral, but it was hard to tell with all the distortion.

When the man began to speak there was something missing in the voice as well, but it would hardly be noticeable.

There was a knock at his door and he quickly threw his feet down from the desk walking over to throw the door open and step outside into the hall. Angelo was waiting for him there and without saying a word the two of them walked down the long hallway and to the planning room.

Mace was still discussing with some of the other men and women there., and Geea and Beatrice were still loitering at the back.

Captain Kell couldn’t keep the distaste from his thoughts as he looked at the two of them. There was a prime example of toxic love if he had ever seen it. The two were clearly partnered or, at the very least, dating, but he had never seen two people who enjoyed pissing each other off as much as they did. WIth them there was plenty of jealousy and mistrust to go around. And as for Geea’s views on Drev religion, well they were backwards to say the least.

He had seem the same sort of fanaticism in certain shamed drev generals after the war, radical, and suicidal almost in nature.

She had no real idea what the meaning of the new law was.

As soon as he walked in the two women turned to look up at him, their arms crossed over their chests. Beatrice was playing with some big ass knives like that was likely to impress anyone, but really all he saw was some crazy asshole whose parents probably didn’t give her enough attention when she was a kid.

He sad down at the table.

Geea leaned forward expectantly.

“Setting course/”

He turned his head to look up at her, “Yes, setting course to whatever cesspit of corruption spawned you.”

Geea pulled back, “Excuse me, but we hired you for a job, not for insults.” One of her hands reached for the weapons on her belt, but Noble stepped forward spear at the ready. He was a good foot taller than she was, and he knew for a fact he was probably a better warrior. He had a natural talent for it.

He leaned back in his seat, “You hired me for a job and now expect me to fling my dead corpse at the Omen like my ship is going to be able to handle that.” he shook his head, “You hired me which means we are going to do this MY way, which means we are going to do it quiet, and we are going to do it proper. That means NONE of this comes back on me. If we show up at the omen right now and bust down their doors, we are going to get atomized by two platoons of marines and an entire clan of Drev. LEts not also forget that the Admiral Isn’t exactly going to be easy to just kill.” Captain Kell waved a hand wildly, “He has a fucking Drev SAINT on his crew, that is hardly something I think I want to deal with.” he shook his head, “No no, this is going to take me a lot longer to plan, and it is going to require a lot more material that I don’t already have.”

Geea bristled in impatience and indignation.

“I am not going to throw my life away for this mission, and if you want to push that, than I will throw you out of the airlock faster than you can say, “please captain, please I was just being a whiny little bitch.” The room was silent around Geaa’s seething, but he paid her no mind. She didn’t exactly scare him.

She was a minor player in the black market at best, and the way she moved told him she was no great shakes as a warrior either. Probably used to fighting humans so developed a habit of using brute force to overcome them with her height. As for Beatrice, he had a feeling that she made up for skill mostly in unpredictability and sheer fury.

Anyone can look scary if they scream real loud and flail their knives at you.

The way their crew behaved was enough to tell him as  much. No one on the ship really respected them, and Geea ruled mostly out of ear, her men were not as loyal to her as she thought they might be, and he had a feeling that, for the right price, he could buy them off if he wanted.

He rested his palms flat against the table before him, “You understand if I am going to do this I am going to need all the right equipment. You want the man gone but I want it to look like some freak disappearance The last thing my crew needs is the long arm of the GA down on our heads.” he shook his head, “No we need to do this strategically, and we need to do this quietly, and we are going to start by getting the tech we need to pull this off without being seen.”

He turned to look at the two of them, “I am assuming that you two know where I can get those sorts of things…. Under the radar.”

Geea crossed her arms over her chest, “And YOU don’t. You are a pirate after all.”

“Yeah, I generally tend to STEAL from other people and sell it to middle men. I don’t generally tend to buy any of the goods.”

Geea  stood, waiting for a long moment before finally uncurling her hands in annoyance, “Fine, Fine, but we make this quick.”

He nodded his head once and motioned her to continue on following her up and to the bridge where he watched her set a course.

He tried to make it look like he wasn’t watching her, but in the back of his mind he was quickly memorizing the coordinates that he saw appearing on screen. Granted he did have a bot installed that should copy it for him, but you can never trust technology to do exactly what you expect it to do.

When she was done, he moved forward and slid into the Captain’s chair, familiar with the machine as he prepared it for a warp sequence.

Despite him being very familiar with this ship, more than one time he found himself accidentally reaching for controls that weren’t there. He cursed his muscle memory, though he forced the ship into doing what he wanted, alerting the crew to the imminent warp before he could accidentally kill one of them by sheer freak accident.

Geea watched him from behind.

He knew she didn’t much like him.

That was fine by him. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person that he would want to be liked by.

They came out of warp a few moments later with a hard lurch through the internal dampeners were doing their job to avoid smearing him across the front windscreen like window pizza.

She walked up to stand beside him and rested her hand of the chair, the gesture reminded him of someone else, and it felt wrong to have her do it, though he tried not to show his discomfort.

“Just beyond that asteroid.”

Captain Kell raised an eyebrow. This was all very interesting. Here he was thinking they would end up back on Noctopolis, for he had been sure that that was the hub of all pirate activity in the universe, but he guessed not. As they came around another asteroid, his eyes fell on a large chunk of rock that must have been over ten miles wide in his shi[s estimation, and from here he could already see the hive of docking ports and extending protrusions built into the rock.

He blinked in awe at the glittering blue lights and the hive of activity surrounding the massive asteroid.

Ships flew in and out through open docking bays landing here and there on extending arms. Good were moved by silent crane arms through space as add ons were constantly being made by men in space suits scurrying over the rock. The palace was…. Amazing at the same time it was an absolute disaster of engineering. You would never see something like tat made by the GA or UNSC, but from here he could see plenty of influence from all parties.

As they flew closer, they were absolutely dwarfed by the massive rock, and it’s protruding arms. All around him he saw human building techniques, and Tesraki logos stamped on almost everything as they moved forward. Massive viewing screens were all around them doing advertisements on things would would never have seen on a location run by UNSC or GA interference.

The one to his right was some sort of bootleg pill for weightloss, while, on the other side, someone was advertising some kind of flamethrower. The screen above that was giving the specs for the newest design in railgun technology.

His eyes were wide as he stared at all of it, and his heart began to race fast inside his chest.

Now THIS was awesome.

Being a space pirate sure did have its perks.

Over the radio feed static rolled in and out as the broadcasts from the different advertisements tried to pick up his frequency.

But one voice came in clear and crisp above all others, “Unknown aircraft. Identify yourself.”

“This is the Infinity requesting docking.”

There was a momentary pause over the other end of the line, as their ship was likely scanned before, “Docking permission granted, please proceed to hanger E docking space 6.”

He did as ordered, flying his ship down to the entrance of the docking bay, where he was ordered to slow, and then a large mechanical hand grabbed them around the hull and pulled them further into the asteroid.

They were dragged inside a ways, though he could definitely have flown in himself, and eventually sat down on E6. 

There was a sharp jolt as they made connection with the airlock, and he stood rom his spot, turning and walking past Geea and towards the cargo bay where his men were waiting. He looked at them each in turn, making slow eye contact with them.

“You know what to do?”

There was a nod as they recognized the true words behind his eye contact, and they quickly moved into pairs of two discussing which piece of “equipment” they were looking for.  It likely wouldn’t take them long, but he didn’t expect that part of their mission to take that long anyway.

Following after them, he was accompanied by Geea, Beatrice and Noble as they walked out into the tube and finally, into the absolutely massive atrium of the hidden Pirate city.

He had to stop, he just couldn’t help it, it was like nothing he had ever seen before, and his mind just couldn’t wrap itself around the massive room full of people and billboards and holograms. There were railed transports on the floor, and there were vendors selling strange food at every turn. It might have been any normal metropolitan area if it weren’t for the sort of advertisements for weapons, and strange illegal creams.

There was one place that was advertising body modifications….. With a ten percent discount if you got the limb removed with them as well.

On another wall someone was advertising a new mechanical eye. The technology hadn’t been released to the public yet, but the features…. Well the features were amazing. He found himself dragged in and rendered mostly stunned. They had him hooked by the first demonstration.

He wanted a cool new mechanical eye.

But Geea grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, “Aren’t we supposed to be doing something.”

Angrily he frowned and held up a hand turning on her with his eyes narrowed.

He prodded her in the chest in a show of dominance towards her. Letting her know that he wasn’t afraid of being insulted or intimidated by someone  like her. To him she was nothing.

“Look, I’m not stupid. I know that this genius little assasination attempt wasn’t your idea, so right here and right now, you better take me to the asshole who set you up for this is you can color me gone. I don’t work through third parties.” He prodded her in the chest again with one finer, “I don’t trust them.”

The Drev stared down at him with absolute rage and consternation.

“Don’t touch me.” She hissed.

He prodded her again, “Just try and stop me.”

She reached for his hand, but he caught her by the wrist and twisted it. He knew the way Drev joints worked, so he knew exactly what NOT to do. She howled in pain and Beatrice moved forward to help, but a spear to her throat by Noble was enough to stop her in her tracks.

“Show me your boss, or your girlfriend becomes a kabob, your choice.”

There was a sharp growl and finally Geea agreed, taking her hand back with some measure of pain and annoyance, “Fine, fine…. Follow me.”

She stalked away grumpily and Noble kept an eye on beatrice as the were led further into the station.

The captain kept his head turning this way and that distracted by the bright and colorful ads, advertising things that he wanted, and some things that he didn’t.

To his surprise, more than once he saw advertisements for Iron eye Knockoffs. He would have dared get a procedure done on this back alley asteroid, but it was still quite shocking. This air of shock continued along with him as he was led down through the darkness and into the tight passages and tunnels of the Asteroid.

Eventually Geea stopped in front of a door and knocked once.

The camera above the door whirred and looked down at them. Geea waved to it and with a hiss it finally opened.

They were led into a small waiting room with pristine little couches as if he was expecting to see a doctor at any moment, but after a few minutes of sitting another door opened and they were allowed through into the next room.

Geea told him to stay put as she was led behind yet another door.

Not to be left Behind, Beatrice followed after, giving him the opportunity to slip over to the door and quickly deploy a small circular camera which used technology unknown to him to see through the door. 

It streamed directly into his fake eye as he closed the real one, and glanced around the room.

He could hear voices, and enhanced the sound of his implants.

“Did you get the assassin.”

“Yes, but there have been some, hiccups.”

“What might that be?”

“He is insisting on meeting his employers.”

The voice seemed almost bored with the idiot pirates, “Then let him meet someone, he doesn’t have to know. Jerah over there will do just fine.”

He turned his fake eye towards the source of the voice falling on some sort of hologram. He quickly looked up just as Geea was turning back towards the door.

He managed to make it up to the person’s face, a Rundi, how str-

Then he froze in shock and disbelief.

Geea reached towards the door, and it was only with a swift movement he was able to pull his camera away in time an leap from the door as she stepped from the room.

He tried to keep the horror and shock on his face in check as he was led into the room to meet his “employer.”

He didn’t care though.

He knew the truth.

There was plenty of evidence on that camera. Evidence that the chairwoman of the GA had ordered his assassination.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hey, if you're still doing those angsty oxygen scenarios, could you do one with Rumble? I know he's not a lost light bot but it would mean a lot to me

He means a lot to me too, anon. Plus as I see it, being a Lost Light bot is a state of mind.

Here's all my previous posts with this popular prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: You are Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rumble

·The story of how you both ended up on the Lost Light is a long and rather ridiculous one, but thankfully you're both quite happy now with the way things have turned out. Hanging out and playing video games is one of the more calm and non-destructive things you two do around the ship, and it's an activity he adores having someone to share with, as not too many bots share the hobby. Being absolutely tiny by Cybertronian standards but huge compared to you, he typically encourages you to sit on his lap while you game together, something he claims is only done to ensure you both can see. Being a good sport, you agree so he can keep protecting his reputation as a tough bot who never cuddles anyone, and also because you know he's secretly in need of said cuddles despite his claims otherwise. You're well in to a rather relaxed gaming session when an emergency communication pings both of you.

·Quite open about how annoyed he is, the feeling only grows when the line is barely audible, static blurring all but every other word of what sounds like a rather urgent message. Though he does try to ask for a repeat of what's said, when the feed simply dies he's quite tempted to just ignore it and keep playing games. Admittedly that sounds good to you too, but being on a gigantic alien vessel makes you far less comfortable at the prospect of things being uncertain, as what's minor to the bots can be quite dangerous for you. Initially your gentle insistence on seeing what might be going on only gets an exaggerated groan regarding how it's probably nothing and that the two of you are having fun so who cares? The pouting is something you're rather accustomed to, so you follow a strategy of gentle pushing to get him moving, which results in him growing ever more dramatic until he's lying back on his second hand couch as if getting up would be physically painful.

·A gentle kiss on his nose finally melts away his immature resistance, but only after he blushes like a lamppost and huffs to try and pretend he's not doing it because you've convinced him or anything. With one last sorrowful look at his console, he hefts you into his shoulder and moves out, not willing to wait on your tiny human legs. Though he's obviously grumpy there's still care and consideration in how he walks with you, as he's never going to risk dropping your squishy human self if he can help it.

·Repeated attempts to comm anyone for some information turn up nothing but static, and that leaves both of you quite confused, with the minibot commenting on how odd it is that no one is answering. Being near the living quarters at this time of day means there's no one around to ask, so he hurries along whilst looking for a signal, reasoning that the two of you should head to the bridge or somewhere equally important to look for answers. Knowing he has way more experience in this than you do, you happily let him take the lead, smiling softly at how your agreement makes him puff up with pride. Being a mini has made him rather unaccustomed to any kind of leadership, so even the simplest praise or deference always means the world to him.

·His ego boost is quite rudely interrupted by a sudden tremor through the ship, though he's hardly knocked off balance for long due to his unique skills. Keeping his footing solid and you secure on his shoulders, he immediately asks if you're okay once the floor steadies beneath him, knowing that it was just a little shake but worried nonetheless. You assure him that you're fine, which convinces him to hold you a little less tightly. Looking up into his visor, you're concerned to see his usual calm replaced with a much more serious expression. It's one you know to only expect when things are about to get bad. As he starts walking again, he explains that, as an expert on seismic things, he knows that the ship has just been snagged. Having an internal sensory system specifically designed to detect these things also makes him certain of the exact size of the enemy and where it hit; and what he detected isn't good.

·Despite being less than half his height, Rumble is your immediate worry as he goes on to explain more of the situation, talking more to cut through the quiet to calm his nerves. You know that you're not built for alien robot battles, but quite frankly, neither is he. Not on his own at least. Though he'll surely deny it now, he's confided in you that without his brother or a bigger bot to sync up with... fighting anything but other minis is a lot harder. Knowing that makes you press him gently on a plan; where should the two of you go to be safe?

·As expected he's immediately adamant that he's fine, but his attitude to you is another story, as is obvious by how he shifts you completely into his arms and holds you tightly. With a promise that he won't let anything touch you, he surprises you with a completely unrestrained sense of protective drive, something quite out of character for a bot that usually struggles with deep feelings. Knowing that ships always have extra guards stationed at key locations, he decides to hurry his way to the medical bay, secretly hoping not to encounter any enemies on the way. Not that he's embarrassed to be a mini or anything, but in moments like these he really wishes he could be big and strong for your sake... Pushing those thoughts deep down, he hurries along and tries to focus on how cool he looks carrying you to safety. Maybe after all this is over he'll be able to tell some awesome stories about rescuing you.

·Seeing you get a little sleepy absolutely baffles him, and he gives you a little tap to wake you up with a tease about taking poorly timed naps. Not having realized you were nodding off, you rub at your eyes in confusion, suddenly aware of sleepiness that certainly wasn't present earlier. At your continued and obvious exhaustion he's quite worried. Had he better practice at driving with an occupant he'd have given you a ride to save time, but even at the best of times previous attempts at that were disasters, so in your current state you'd probably end up getting seriously hurt... It's yet another thing to regret as he holds you closer and hurries along, secretly trying to establish communication so he can hopefully get some answers. The lack of success makes him more worried with every passing minute.

·Though Rumble is no stranger to cuddling behind closed doors and carrying you to show off his strength, this is the first time he's held you like this in public for so long, and it feels very nice. You know he's worried about you, but it's getting harder to focus on staying awake and comforting him with his arms keeping you so secure, and his little spark humming so warm and strong right next to you. Only his gentle pleading for you to keep your eyes open prevents you from nodding off, mostly because his voice is so sad as he does so, and you can't handle seeing that sweet face grow any more worried. Clearly it must be bad if he's openly showing his softer side. You're aided in staying awake by a rather unexpected visitor nearly stepping on the minibot as he enters a hallway, and in the panicked blur that follows your mind is just sharp enough to catch the towering form of a very unfriendly alien before you're laid on the ground and Rumble charges forth in a preemptive strike.

·Though he's every bit as fearless as he usually is in appearance, in his spark he's absolutely terrified as he breaks out his piledrivers, the lack of his brother or Soundwave leaving him with a sense of total helplessness that he has to force down for your sake. The alien is a kind he doesn't recognize, but it's big and clearly hates bots by the way it strikes to kill. Using his tiny size to his advantage, he hammers the legs that are too slow to kick him away in time, striking with a level of force that strains his shock absorbers to a painful limit. The hulking alien collapses as its means of support are demolished in a messy and agonizing attack, but the mini takes no chances, hopping up to the head and delivering a blow capable of creating an earthquake all on its own. He's left panting from the exertion but grateful to have proved himself. Sore from the strain, he hurries back over to you and can't help but ask if you saw what he just did?

·Tiny jubilation is crushed when he hears your weak reply. Even though you're smiling at his victory, you're obviously barely holding on, and that means whatever invisible malady is afflicting you is growing more severe. Scooping you up in bloodied servos, he tries to keep the tears welling in his visor from falling, though admittedly he's not sure why since his image matters very little in the face of losing you. Thinking fast, he breaks open a vent cover and makes use of the claustrophobic shortcut to hurry to the medical bay, ignoring his own overworked body's protests to save you at any cost. Not knowing what the problem could be, he's still tearing himself apart inside over every tiny delay that could now result in the difference between life and death. If only he hadn't hesitated to stop gaming, or had been paying enough attention to avoid that alien... How like him, to prove unworthy of something by ruining it.

·You'd been physically incapable of staying awake as he'd closed in on the part of the ship where help would hopefully be found. Though you had tried so hard and been so heartbroken by his struggles, exhaustion unlike anything had ultimately forced you to rest, with his protective grip on you making it hard to worry as you slipped under. Tears had started to fall without restraint the moment you went quiet. It had made quite a scene when he'd burst into the medical bay, ploughing through a vent cover and startling multiple bots on guard as he yelled for someone to help you, nearly getting shot until he was recognized with you in his arms. Nearby medics had been quick to explain the breakdown of the atmospheric generators and the loss of oxygen, but he brushes all that aside with a single question; will you be okay?!

·Every bot present is immensely surprised by his demeanor. He's known as a troublemaker and a prankster, so even with your relationship to him being taken into consideration, his agony over your condition is not something they could have ever predicted. The loyalty to you is unshakable and obvious even after you receive the care you need, as he refuses medical attention for himself and doesn't care in the slightest when the alien ambush is declared defeated. Not even the prospect of free drinks at Swerve's to celebrate can make him leave you for a second. All he wants is for you to wake up, and to hopefully not be mad once you wake up and learn what happened, which he believes he made worse by being irresponsible and wasting time... Though it isn't allowed, he crawls into your berth with you to snuggle when no one is present.

·You awaken to a much clearer head and the warmth of a bigger body huddled closely around you, and as soon as you open your eyes a familiar frame welcomes you back to consciousness. Whispering a greeting, you're shocked when the mini suddenly clings to you and begins pleading for your forgiveness while also recounting what happened to make you "sick", confusing you beyond all belief at first. Why would the bot you remembered saving you need to apologize? It's only by listening that you realize his misplaced blame is likely motivated by fear, as his hot tears pattering against the berth suggest a bot recently scared out of his wits. The poor mini is blaming himself for his lack of action, in full belief he could have moved faster and should have the moment something was wrong, and sounding quite convinced of his role in your injurey before you shush him as gently but audibly as you can.

·Wiping away heavy tears on his cheeks, you speak clearly through the oxygen mask still secured to your face, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and had no reason to believe things would play out as they did. When he tries to miserably reply that he's still should have jumped at the first sign of trouble, you remind him that he jumped into action when it counted, taking down an enemy several times his size without anything but his own fists as weapons. Perking up to hear you remember his burst of bravery, he asks a little more confidently if you recall how he punched the alien so hard the hallway shook from the force, and you smile while you assure him that you saw every heroic moment. Hearing himself be referred to as a hero seems to reassure him in ways he didn't know he needed, and the rush of his own gratitude is enough that he hugs you tight without a hint of bashful hesitation. Just being here and safe with you makes it hard to be worried about anything at all.

[paperstarwriters]

Transformers Fantasy AU

So, I’ve seen a few things on here starring human bots in a medieval AU where Optimus is king and Bumblebee or someone else is prince and I REALLY like the idea, but consider:

A medieval fantasy AU where Bots lived with humans.

In this world there were a wide variety of creatures. Dwarves who lived in the mountains to mine precious minerals, Elves who lived in the forest and learned from the plants magic, and the Cybertronian race with keen psychic magic and lived along with Humans.

Humans were to the Cybertronains (Who’s names were shortened to “bots”) as Dwarves were to Elves, the latter group skilled in magic and seemingly more advanced than the former. Dwarves and humans were not blessed with magic the same way bots or Elves did, but they were still highly competent, Something you were determined to prove.

You had spent years learning your own hand in mental magic, willing yourself to catch up to what the bots were born with. From there you spread to Elven magic, and spread what you learned in your small town. Today, you were before Cybertron city gates and you were going to study with the great, with other magical scholars. It wouldn’t be your first encounter with snobby stuck up scholars, but it would be your first with ten foot tall metal ones.

The bot at the gates appraised your papers, giving you time to eye the black and white colors of his metal the bots you’ve seen so far were so multicolored, some glittered with the colors of the sea while others burned with reds and yellows like the bright noon sun, yet in contrast their eye colors, (or as your studies showed optic colors) were very limited. Either red, blue or occasionally gold.

The soldier bot gave a mock cough, bringing your gaze back to the papers in his hand which he was currently waving in your face. He muttered something in his mother tongue (something undoubtedly mean), before he switched to your language.

“Your papers are all clear human, it seems I will be seeing you in Iacon later today.” He made no clear expression of joy or distaste as he nodded, and opened the iron gates.

It moved smoothly, unlike the wooden gates of the less magically inclined human cities. The metal making a resounding thud as it opened like the jaws of a beast. People milled about the colors of the people especially bright against the plain grey of the city buildings. You had to lean back to see their tall towers searching for one out of many that may house the great hall of records. Eyes so high in the sky, you didn’t realize the more pressing problems on the ground.

It was an acknowledged fact that the heightened mental ability of the Cybertronian race and the metal their bodies were made of allowed for them to morph and change their body. According to many articles the true source of this ability and most of their magic is from a part in their body which they call a transformation cog. It allowed some to transform into a creature that could fly without flapping their wings, or carriages and carts that would not need to be drawn by horses.

You barely dodged the red blur of a bot, driving along and cackling, another bot following after, this one however seemed more kind to unfortunate bystanders. Stopping right in front of you. It gave a series of irritated beeps in a language that you did not know. It didn’t sound like Cybertronian and it certainly wasn’t a human language.

“Bumblebee!” a deep voice called out. You glanced behind you to check if the red car would respond, but it was long gone. Instead, the black and yellow bot transformed to a height of at least seven feet tall. That made sense, they were colored like a bee.

Your Jaw dropped as a large blue and red bot approached in it’s ‘alt-mode’. The current leader of a Cybertronian group known as the Autobots, and a well renowned scholar before he was given his position. Optimus Prime. Apparently, a prime was the equivalent of a king for humans, and he stood before you by the city gate, far away from any castle. He unfolded himself transforming into a more humanoid figure and towering high above you.

Bumblebee made a few more beeps, which he seemed to address to you before he turned to the Prime. He nodded his head in understanding, while you remained confused. You were rather sure one of the abilities of the bots’ magic was that they had the ability to automatically translate, like the Elves had learned to do with animals, and sometimes even plants.

“Human, we apologize for the inconvenience. Bumblebee was in pursuit of a decepticon, and was calling after them, I assure you he was not upset with you.

You bowed, unsure if it was the same meaning of respect for the bots. “No problem, your majesty. It was my fault for not paying attention.”

The Prime tilted his head. “Majesty?” Any other comment he would have had was quickly swiped away as bumblebee chirped up once more, a series of energetic chirps and beeps that Optimus was quick to respond to. “Yes, that is a good idea Bumblebee. Human, to make up for the accident, would you mind if we took you to your destination? It should be safer than wandering around, not all bots are so quick to stop as Bumblebee is.”

“Oh, sure, thank you,” you cut yourself off from repeating the majesty statement. Perhaps it did not work the same way.

Nonetheless, the prime nodded, speaking up once more as Bumblebee transformed. “My name is Optimus Prime, although you seem to know that.” he smiled at you, a very faint quirk up from the corners of his mouth, before he folded himself up into his alt mode. “Where would you be going today?”

“I was informed there was a magic lecture at one of the schools here?” Your meek reply was met with a torrent of enthusiastic beeps that made Optimus chuckle in response.

“It seems we have the same destination. However, as the lecture will be later in the day, Bumblebee is proposing that we go and show you around Iacon for awhile, unless you would rather wait at the school?”

“Oh no, a tour sounds great.”

---------

A few notes:

so yeah, the magic system for Cybertronians is psychic magic which allows them to have better control over their own body than most other races. I like to imagine that Shockwave is a Magic Scholar who is learning to channel their magic into another person’s mind. The civil war with the Decepticons is definitely still going on, it’s just not as bad in this moment. Optimus is cautious and alert against any possible threats, but he didn’t see Knockout steal anything or harm anyone (besides you) and while he did not brush off the event he’s killing two birds with one stone- keeping the human safe and going on patrol.

Also, yeah, as stated above, The ability to invade someone’s mind is not yet present but the spell to alter and translate language is. I think the spell is mostly focused around the head, and even though the person is speaking their native tongue, others hear it in a language they understand. In Bee’s case however, he isn’t speaking the right language to allow the translation spell to work properly. Since it’s made by Cybertronians it is attuned to their language.

Now when it comes to vehicles, I tried to avoid using the term car or similar ones as that clearly does not exist yet, but the Cybertronians are in their original alt modes, not copies of human vehicles, but the type they had on Cybertron.

Yeah, that’s all I’ve  got, I may continue this little story, but I’m open to do headcannons, character or world wise for this au, and try to answer some of the questions. If you have an Idea though please send it my way.

This work is more fitted to TFP (but i did slip a bit of prowl there) so if you have info for the other continuities feel free to fill me in, or make your own take on this. Just tag me, though I wanna see

I saw a bit of @milagrosen‘s royalty au for bumblebee and that’s kinda what this was based off of. Really love their art

[popculturebuffet]

Mickey and the Roadster Racers: “Mickey’s Perfecto Day” and “Daisy’s Grande Goal” review or “I think i’m going out of my headcold”

Saludos Amigos!  I”ve been sick, and as such have had no energy or state of mind to continue my look at every apperance of the CABs in the us, concluding with a look at every episode of legend of the three caballeros. 

And today’s stop is one i’m only passingly familiar with: Mickey and the Roadster Racers. MATRR.. wait really that’s what it spells?

No Larry the Cable guy on this blog thank you.  Anyways, Roadster Racers is surprisingly complicated for such a simple show. For starters it’s the successor to “Mickey Mouse’s Club House” another CGI Disney Junior show, Disney’s equivalent to Nick Jr because their clever like that. And to continue the theme of ripping off other properties, the show was Disney’s stab at following the big fake interactivity craze started by Dora the Explorer. And it’s annoying as that sounds with a lot of pasues and an annoying recurring hot dog song that’s obnoxiously catchy. It was mostly just slice of life shenanigans with the mickey mouse crew and when retoolling it they decided to drop the now dated fake interactivity, turn up the slice of life and add some of those nitro burning funny cars vroom vroom. IN a sense genral g rated soft boiled mickey shenanigans with a racing theme. 

Not a terrible series but not terribly intresting hence why i’ve never covered it. It’s a bland inoffesnsive cartoon for toddlers. Enough effort is put in for me not to hate it, as even a toddler show can have effort, but not enoguh so that I really care. I’ve seen better, i’ve seen worse. The only intresting things are the racing gimmick and the fact that as said gimmick diminished they switched names to “Mickey’s mixed up adventures” in season 3. Hence the complicated part as it’s not counted as it’s own series but unlike other disney title changes they aren’t just slapping another label under the logo like the marvel shows. This is  a full on retool. But it still has the same cast and prodcution crew and is counted as part of mickey mouse. Point is it’s weird and not relevant since our boys didn’t show up in that season. Oh and as a final note I learned while writing this/ there’s a THIRD Mickey Mouse Disney Junior Series, Mickey Mouse Funhouse, coming next year. 

But with so little to cover I ended up throwing in a freebie. See normally I charge the same for 11 minute and 20+ minute shows. It’s fair as most 11 minute shows these days pack in as much character as the ones that use the full half hour. It’s just a diffrence in tactics is all. But here I felt obligated to do at LEAST two diffrent, but cabs related, 11 minutes here, so if I had nothing to talk about I could pad it out and If I had everyhting to talk about.. eh I still tried to do the right thing. I regret nothing. But yeah i’m sick, this series is eh, let’s gooooo. 

Mickey’s Perfecto Day So Mickey and Friends are preparing to drive to spain.

No i’m not making a joke. Wish I was would be one of my best but no, Mickey and Friends are just.. casually going to drive to Spain. To explain why this hurts my head a map, on which i’ve drawn the route they’d have to take to get to spain from, let’s say Calisota, the fictional state where Mouseton, Duckburg, New Quackmore, and thus probably Hot Dog Hills, the show’s setting, reside. 

This is a crue map, they oculd’ve gone down through mexico or central america.. but the point is THEY DROVE ACROSS THE OCEAN. And I genuinely do not know if their cars can do that but apparently they can. So either the writer didn’t know where Spain was or didn’t care and either way it’s bad. LIke at least give their cars a plane or boat mode. Go full DKR up in this bitch, give em diffrent racing vehicles. But it wouldn’t be as aggrivvating or bizzare if they MENTIONED how they were driving to spain, like maybe Donald’s car that’s also an old boat and goofy’s that’s a tub have aquamodes and can tow the rest. I get 5 year olds don’t care about this.. but still? I guess? Also MIckey is either the sorcerer supreme or jesus at this point. He can cross oceans by car, astral project, cross into other dimensions.. the only thing missing is raising the dead and  he already did that in the 30′s. 

So as for why the sorcerer supreme and his buddies are going all the way to Spain, Donald has a concert with the three caballeros and this time they all remember him as a memmber and Daisy’s a huge fan. Which is sweet. Then we hear donald duck talk and...

Yeah, Daniel Ross is not the best Donald. Now I will cut the guy some slack here: He’s a voice actor more known for doing bit parts who just got the role in 2016, since racers aired in 2017 and animation lead time and all that. He’s not going to be nearly as good as Tony or Clarence out of the gate. Even Tony wasn’t. He also had a valid reason for picking up the role as Tony likely had two series in production at that time, Rise of the Three Cablleros and Ducktales, and thus had to split his time between both. And having Chris Diamaptolus do mickey in the new shorts instead of his usual voice actor Bret Iwane despite Iwane not being in any serious danger of dying soon has worked out super. So having multiple actors isn’t the problem. Hell after the tragic loss of Russi taylor and with how bad the world is, having an understudy in mind for such an important role is a grim but understandable necicisty. While I belivie tony can go on for decades, he’s only human. 

So my issue is not on Donald’s voice being diffrent or new.. it’s that it’s not very good and the second episode featuerd here shows Daniel Ross really hasn’t improved despite now having worked as the character for a while.I can forgive taking some time to grow in but being this sloppy after a full season is just unacceptable. He’s BETTER but he’s still just not very good and doing the bear minimum. I don’t doubt he’s a good va in other rolls, I don’t want to hate on the guy, but I can hate on aperfomance when it’s bad and it’s not good here. It’s just not. Not in either episode not in any way shape or form. It just feels like a lazy donald duck impression. Disney can do better and Ross can hopefully find better work in the future. But for now this just hangs like a wet fart on his resume. 

Moving on, thankfully, we have our three stories split pretty evenly and all stock plots. “Horay”.  Mickey and Minnie: Mickey tries to have a “perfecto” day, hence the title with Minnie, but instead gives her a rose a baby bull likes.. or maybe it’s SUPPOSED to be full grown but while Mickey and Minnie treat him like a grown bull and react to him like one.. the boy dosen’t look at all, even in the series style, like an adult bull. he looks like a calf. Mickey.. is initimdated by a small child whose horns aren’t sharp enough to hurt him. 

It’s just REALLY distracting and takes me out of the plot which itself is as bland as plain toast and twice as dry. They flee him till the end where Minnie figures out the rose thing at the concert and they make an ew friend. NOt TERRIBLE but not great.  Goofy and Cuckoo Loca: Okay first off who and what is a cuckoo loca? Well she’s a wind up bird that lives in Daisy’s Cuckoo Clock and makes sarcastic comments in a brooklyn accent because nikka futtterman voices her. Still makes more sense than driving to spain. She’s not a bad addition to the cast.. not even that weird as most kids based franchises have an adorable animal sidekick to market. Goofy wants to try some “flamingo dancing” while in spain, with Loca going along to make sure he dosen’t die somehow.. which would be unjustifable for anyone but goofy. Also.. Flamingo Dancing...

But yeah Goofy goes up against ... world famous flamingo dancer horace horsecollar?!

Now apparently this is a common thing for him in this series, apparently, but still it feels like if one of those weird variant ninja turtle figures from the 80′s was a plot point in an episode. Like if we actually had an episode based around birthday magician raph. 

It feels just as odd and out of place for down to earth if showy horace to suddenly be the best flaminco dancer in spain, despite being very much white coded, as it does for the angriest ninja turtle to be pulling a rabbit out of kids hats. Now Rise of the TMNT raph I could totally see as a party magician but any other? He’d probably break his wand over some kids head. 

Goofy ends up winning anyway because he’s stupid, though Flamingo dancing should be a real thing even if this joke is bad and it shoudl feel bad. What an ODD subplot Okay one more then i’m free of this prison. 

The Three Cablleros Plus Daisy:  Okay finally we get to what I came here for. The Three Caballeros! And..they look a tad off. Not terrible but clearly the animators weren’t as skilled with non duck beaks as both of them look ready to do this to donald. 

While Panchito’s color varies. Sometime’s it’s a deep brownish crimson, sometimes it’s poop brown and there’s no classy way to put it. When he’s in this cheap cgi, he looks like a shit chicken. This gets to a larger issue though... the animation here is not great. It’s not TERRIBLE.. but it’s pretty freaking sub par for disney. And i’ve SEEN their other cgi shows around the same time due to having a young niece and nephew. Sherieff Callie, Doc McStuffins, MIles from Tommorowland, and after this T.O.T.S. and Rocketeer. I’m not saying these are masterpieces of the genre, but they have more effort in botht he animation and writing put in. Here it just feels like they do the bear minimum which feels really fucking wrong. These chracters deserve better and have thankfully gotten better. YOu can make a show for preschoolers that’s cutsey and harmless and still have it at least be creative god dammit. It’s why I don’t like covering this show. It just feels so.. lifeless. They try a bit here and there but outside of cuckoo, there’s nothing really new or intresting to really make kids love these characters and it bothers me. it bothers me a lot. 

Moving on thank god, the plot is bare bones as is the boys characterization. So far at least their character has been pretty consitent across all mediums. i’ts something I haven’t really touched on but their seen as world traveler’, Panchito being a Gaucho and Jose being such a ladies man this will probably happen to him eventually. 

I swear to god that was the only part of this movie I can remember. I’m  better off that way. But yeah without Panchito’s pep or Jose’s smooth talking ways, there’s just nothing for disney junior to work with so their just.. friends to donald who are nice to daisy. Which is very nice to see, but isn’t very intresting or gives me a lot to talk about. Donald eats a food that’s too hot, continues to talk poorly, and Daisy has to fill in. He gets back in at time and they sing probably the most forgetable cabs song yet. It’s.. not much honestly.  This was worth covering for completions sake but it dosen’t really add much. If nothing else it at least made me realize so far each mile of the ride has added something fresh to the characters: The original was the foundation, rosa gave them depth and made them feel like real people, and house of mouse made them feel like a big deal to other characters and made donald’s history as a cabllero part of his legacy as it should be. Each one so far has felt like it added.. this one just made me realize that and that is all. It builds on nothing adds nothing and there’s really nothing here other than MAYBE the brown/crimson design for panchito that carries over from the looks of it. The next two versions build on what rosa, the movie and to a lesser extent the house of mouse built. This one adds nothing. This plot is just.. inconqueintal. not bad for kids to know about them but even then it feels like a disapointing introduction. I fondly remember hte cabs episodes of house of mouse and even on rewatch they mostly held up despite some weak parts. This .. this will just be forgotten and I only hope legend and ducktales have done a better job keeping my boys alive in kids minds. God i’m depressed. Well at least this is over right.. right? 

Daisy’s Grande Goal

Okay as I said I was doing two, and rather than do this episode’s paired episode I decided on Season 2′s “Supercharged: Daisy’s Grande Goal”.. and cut the supercharged out of the title for the most part because why would you put the sutitle in your actual title. And only in some episodes. But yeah this season had a new gimmick, SUPERCHARGING... which basically means our heroes roadsters can go into super sayian tron super sayian mode and go real fast. They look real nice though and it has it’s own neat theme tune so there’s that. Otherwise the only other change is the animation which improves greatly. Seriously look at that shot above. That’s quality lin line with the ohter disney juinor shows. It’s still not as CREATIVE, but it’s not as slipshod as it started and I have to give them credit on that. 

So our heroes are in Brazil.. and as far as I can tell they drove there again.. but the diffrence is 1) you can actually DRIVE to brazil and 2) they have super fast super cars now, meaning even if the super charge mode has a timer, it can help with the commute. It’s also one of the boys actual home countries this time. I mean the episode isn’t built around the cabs.. but neither was the last one. Seriously I almost missed that: it’s three unrleated plots and really you could’ve just lenethed the bull and goofy plots a bit and left donald and daisy out. If your not going to use the cabs right hten don’t use them at all. Here though their used BETTER.. still not in the lead unforunately but at least them being on the brazilian soccer team makes sense as jose is from brazil and while panchito is it he’s his best friend, sometimes lover and always there when he needs him. So spending some time in brazil to play soccer/football isn’t a stretch. But that’s about it for their involvment: they say a few lines, are part of the brazilian team our heroes face, and we get Not-Donald saying “No Way Jose”.,,,

Sadly I can’t leave but the main plot is about Daisy’s Cousnt Almonda. She was in the previous episode which I did not watch but I do like both there being a valid reason why our heroes are here, and connection between episodes. While this season isn’t MUCH better.. it’s still better by some metric.  The plot is very basic: Almonda always wins at soccer ever since she and Daisy were kids, and it’s your basic “hero gets overcompetitive to finally win plot and learns to just have fun and to use teamwork heart of the cards and all that” It goes how you’d expect with Daisy hogging the ball and causing disasters and then a ten car pileup before cucoo yells at her, she realizes she was bad and also realizes Almonda had to practice hard to beat her, and ends up beating her through teamwork and you get it. IT’s not much But yeah ten car pile up.. that’s where it is intresting and rediculous as their playing soccer with cars. Which given i’ve always been an advocate for card games on motor cycles, seriously it’s not more rediculous than Yugioh was before that: in the anime and manga before 5ds we had table hockey but the puck is ice with nitrocylcrine in it, a battle with an escaped convict involving vodka and only using one finger, a chinese puzzel box that devoured souls, a dueling monkey, a whole hogwarts style school for dueling, duel spirits, our heroes childhood creations coming to life to help him, our hero merging with his androgynous childhood friend to fight the light of all evils, and on top of all of that, kaiba building a giant murder theme park soley to kill yugi and, even with how rich is he is, not even going to prison for the two months he’d get for that. My point is Yugioh is fricking weird and I love it so and card games on mortocyles is awesome.  Soccer with cars is alright. The teams are mickey, minnie, daisy and donald, for the US and Almonda, Jose, Panchito and.. Pancho Pete for the Brazilian team. Pete’s cousin. He apparenlty has a lot of em. Eh as long as we don’t get petkeem the african dream we’re fine. 

Why why did I make this. Why. But yeah it’s fine, not the best action ever adn the supercharge segments as I said look nice but as I also said ther’es just not a lot here. Daisy’s cousin is intresting, but likely more in the other segment. Here she’s more of a plot device to make daisy into an asshole for the episode so the plot can happen. There’s just not a lot to talk about> Hence me doing two of these. I will say it’s a better episode than the other one: it felt like more actually happened, it was more cohesive, had way more enerjgy and it had billy beagle... the series resident overexcited and loveable announcer voiced by the far from loveable jay leno of stealing conan’s job he gave him and last man standing, for some reason, fame. 

Overall these episodes are.. eh. The first one is kind of a mess, the second one is slightly better but these clearly werne’t meant for adults, let alone older kids and it shows. But I found some material here and made a horrifying combination of a terrible racist wwe gimmick and pete so.. I win/ I guess. I dunno, until next time, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

[subitupjonah]

Jothias

WHEN - April 24th

WHERE Residenco of Venzo

WHO Jonah Price, Matthias Venzo @matthiasvenzo

EVENT - Jonah’s first time inside Matthias’s playroom

It was starting to get familiar, being led by a guard towards the house of Venzo, and each time just seemed to feel as thrilling as the previous time. This time, however, Jonah felt something different. Some kind of longing that fueled on to his desire to just be naked and let the dom have his way with him in every way possible-- just thinking about that made him feel hard and leaking-- it was ridiculous. He felt like a horny teenager again, only this time, he didn't look for someone in a skirt to fuck, but wanted to be pounded into like a goddamn slut. It was hard to kneel in the state he was in, but that's what he did as he reached the dom's door like a good boy.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-24 After giving Marley what she needed, and then catching up with his neighbor, Matthias had taken the time to relax on his sofa with his ankles crossed where they were propped against the coffee table in his usual black skinny jean and a v-neck shirt. He could be honest with himself enough to know that he was looking forward to spending time with Jonah. After having multiple scenes with the guy, of course he was going to start noticing. It wasn't a waste of time in his eyes. Someone who was learning slowly and enjoying his place when it came to their dynamic was always worth his breath.

So when he hears the knock, signaling the submissive's arrival, Matthias has no problem putting his phone down to be left ignored while they were busy.

Answering the door, he folds his arms with a smirk. It was a definite improvement from when they first met and this guy was put under orders. "Look at you, knowing your manners. Good boy." Shifting away from the doorway, he directs a point to the living room. "Crawl."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-24 Maybe it was the smirk that did it, or the way the dom was looking at him and praising him-- Jonah wasn't sure, but something sure as hell made him feel some kind of reaction to the guy. He was already hard. Impossibly so and it felt so fucked up and so dirty and he fucking lived for it.

"Yes, sir", he adressed the dom with a cocky smile of his own and then began crawling towards the livingroom, thankful that he was wearing a pair of sweatpants to soften up the hard surface under his knees to make it less unbearable. Not that he couldn't take it. Hell, he had learned to take a whole lot since his arrival here, and he wanting to come here and be dominated by this guy was more than enough to prove that. He wanted to be taken. He wanted to be used and fucked and abused and he wanted to feel it for days, and while he had thoroughly enjoyed the orgy before the lockdown, he was very much looking forward to share what the dom had to offer this time.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-24 It was always a pleasure to watch Jonah crawl by. The sway of his hips showing off that perky ass that would drive anyone with eyes to want to bite it. Slap it. Fuck it. Anything and everything. Not even taking his eyes off of it until the other man was kneeling in the usual spot by the sofa. It was protocol with him, something he made known to anyone he would have scenes with multiple times.

Closing the door, Matthias moves over to the sofa himself to settle against the arm. "Did you bring back my plug? Or are you still wearing it?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-24 Sweat was already forming on his brows as he was kneeling by the familiar spot by the couch. He felt hot. Needy. Uncomfortable, too, but the feeling of being full somehow made up for it-- even if he didnt feel full enough. He knew that would change soon though.

"I am still wearing it, sir. It's filling me up. Making me hard", he points out and licks his lips as he looks up at Matthias, his eyes classier and darker than normal. "It feels nothing like your cock, sir. It doesn't make me feel nearly as good as you make me."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-24 With the knowledge of Jonah still wearing it, it only causes Matthias to hum thoughtfully. Obviously impressed he had kept the plug in, as he hasn't picked the smallest of his set - but also hasn't chosen the most outrageous either. Even he didn't think Jonah could handle that, even if he took his cock like a total champ every time.

"Good boy. You know your Sir is proud of you when you say that kind of stuff." Matthias awards Jonah with a tussle of his hair, then drops his hand to his jaw. "Safeword? Hard limits? Refresh my memory so I can wreck you safely."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-24 Hearing the praise is enough to make his cock twitch with interest. Knowing that he makes his sir proud makes him feel proud and accomplished. "That makes me feel very glad, sir", he admits openly, and he can feel his face heat up at the words, as they sound so unlike him. He clears his throat to speak again.

"My safeword is Potatoes. Hard limits is everything that involves bathroom play, vore, gore, vomit or fisting."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-24 "Potatoes." The Dominant repeats, storing it away as he always does. A reminder always being a requirement before he dives into any type of scene - sexual or not. It kept it fresh in his mind, no matter how many times he heard it. "So, like we discussed. I'm going to be tying you up today, and seeing how far I can push your senses. We'll be checking out my playroom for the first time, and I'll be using rope to tie you to my dungeon bench. I'll be tying you in a bent over position, and I'll be focusing on edging you. You want me to fuck you? I want you begging and needy for me first, so I know how badly you want to be pinned against that wall, taking my cock."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-24 Being reminded of what was to come made Jonah feel more excited and anticipated, and his cock made yet another twitch of interest at the mere thought of being tied up and and at the other's mercy. Fuck, he can't remember ever feeling so eager for anything.

"Yes, sir. It-- fuck. I'm practically leaking. You have no idea how hard I am just thinking about your thick cock ramming into my tight little ass. It's all I've been thinking about-- how I wanna be your slut again. How I want you to use me like the whore I've become. I wanna feel you in me so hard that I won't be able to move for a week, sir." He stirred in his kneeling position. He was getting more and more uncomfortable with the way the plug was digging into him and his hard-on was straining against his pants, bursting to get out and get some attention. He wanted Matthias to see that, and notice what effect he has on him.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-24 The boy is clearly eager already and it's a good sign. Means he actually wants him, not just any cock. Another good sign. Ego boosting and self-confidence stroking. Not that Matthias needed that, per se, but even the tiniest bit of a submissive showing they wanted to feel him inside them because the last time was just starting to fade, Never was a bad thing. It was just a bonus Jonah was easy on the eyes and had one hell of an ass.

"You beg so pretty, my little whore." He sighs blissfully, rising from the arm of the sofa. "Stand up, strip. You'll be following me to the playroom naked. I want to see you. All of you."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-24 He stands up carefully and starts peeling off his shirt to show off his muscles he knows are pleasing to most eyes-- he can only hope that Matthias appreciates the view, too, as much as he appreciates the view of his ass. Then he tugs down his pants and steps out of them and feels thankful that he's not been wearing any underwear, which, fuck, makes him wonder if he should think about wearing some next time. Maybe some women's underwear. Would Matthias like that? It's an idea for sure.

Finally, he is naked and exposed and fucking ready to be played with and rammed into like the dirty whore he is. He wants to get rid of the plug, just to replace it with the other's big, hard cock. 26 april 2020

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 Greedily soaking in the view Jonah was giving him, Matthias waits patiently for the clothes to fall away completely before he makes it a show of checking him out. A slow movement as his eyes travel over strong chest and stomach, taking note of his cock, then down his legs, gaze returning to Jonah's face with a pleased hum. "There's my good boy. Follow me." Crooking his finger, he entices Jonah to follow him to the stairs that spiral downward to the basement.

The playroom was behind a simple white and rather boring looking wooden door. Really putting the phrase: "Don't judge a book by its cover" to good use. When he opens the door, he steps in first then waves Jonah in after. The room was well sized. Full of equipment, a bed, storage for toys, and a wall just of floor to ceiling mirrors. The floor was cold stone, only having sections of select carpet or rubber covering to spare the cold against anyone's exposed skin - such as feet. A big change from the hardwood outside the room.

Giving a point to the bench he had every plan to use as he uses his other hand to close the door, he snaps. "Over there. Bend over it."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 He can feel Matthias's gaaze checking him out and really taking in the view. The gaze is hot. Burning. It makes him feel wanted and, fuck, it makes him want to bed over right then and there for the Dom to play with.

Feeling his face flush over the praise, he starts following the dominant down the stairs. Each step is a challenge to take when there's a plug buried in his ass, but he manage it with slow, careful steps before they enter the playroom. His eyes widen at the sight, as it is unlike anything he has ever seen before.  His eyes lands on Matthias as the order is being given, and he answers with a "Yes sir" before he bends over the bench.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 As the submissive follows orders, Matthias moves to a dresser which he was using to store his toys and needed tools. Such as rope. It was silky to the touch, not at all something rough against the skin, and would be perfect for this. Also selecting a blind fold, the Dominant steps back in and easily cuts Jonah's eyesight off first before tying him to his bench. Starting with his ankles, then moves to secure his wrists. "How's that?" He asks once finished, giving a light tug on the binds, testing to ensure they're secure. "Can you still feel your limbs? Nothing being cut off?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 He exhales the moment darknes surrounds him as he is getitng blindfolded. Not being able to see, but to hear adds to the anticipation. Then he feels his ankles getting tied up, followed by his wrists, and he is almost completely unable to move or see. So his nerves starts spiking a little, not because he's uncomfortable, but because this feels so unfamiliar. He wriggles his wrist and ankles, just to test out if his blood circulation is still flowing. "It's all green, sir." He hesitates before speaking again. "I'm a little nervous."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 "Don't worry. You'll be feeling good, hot stuff. I won't be doing anything I think you won't be able to handle." Matthias runs a hand over Jonah's bare back, nice and slow, until he reaches his ass. Giving a firm smack then removing his hand entirely. "Let's get this plug out first. You need to give yourself a rest, even if you're gorgeous like this."

Like anything else, he takes good care in placing his hands on the small of Jonah's back, gently massaging downward. Working every tight muscle he could for a few seconds, testing just how pliable he was, before bothering to get a hold of the end of the plug. "Deep inhale, pretty boy. Stay relaxed. It'll stretch you again, but don't clench. I want to see how good you look stretched."

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Jonah knew that, of course. He somehow knew that he was in good hands and that he could trust Matthias-- and he didn't trust people that easily. There was just something about the Dominant that made him feel like he could. He lets out groan when he feels the smack and flinches in surprise, only to be reminded that he is being tied up.

Feeling his careful hands helps, too-- he can feel his skin prickle along with his touch, as he isn't too aware of where his hands are going next. He inhales deeply, just as he is being ordered to and tries to remain relaxed. He was in good hands.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 It may take a few tries, verbal encouragement never ceasing, but the plug does pop out. Slick which is impressive as it let the Dominant know just how much lubricant it took to get that thing in comfortably. No surprise that the boys poor hole was gaping, empty, and red where the plug was only moments before. It was erotic and Matthias moves in closer for inspection.

A gently finger tracing around the opening, feeling how pulled tight it still felt. "Talk to me, how do you feel? Does it burn? Does it pinch? Does it hurt?" He asks, though he doesn't see any tearing - thank god - or blood, he is sure Jonah would be able to be fucked by him after a resting period where he planned to edge him first.

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Jonah tries to focus on his breathing. He have used plugs before for work, but never for such a long period of time. He can finally feel it being removed and gasps out loud as he is being freed from it. He feels some strange mixture of relief and emptyness. Then he feels Matthias's finger tracing around his hole, causing him to flinch in surprise yet again. "J-just a little burn, sir. But no pain. I am doing good, sir."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 "That's my good boy," Matthias praises at the honesty, leaning forward then and giving a drag of his tongue against Jonah's abused asshole, fitting his lips around it then pulling back, giving another smack of his hand against an ass cheek. Standing, he places the plug for cleaning to the side and removes some much needed cream, which he carefully circles around Jonah's hole then which would offer some relief for the time being at least.

With that handled, Matthias next goes for selecting a few tools and returning to Jonah's laid out and spread body. So helpless and begging to be toyed with. The first thing he does is place a magic wand vibrator right against Jonah's ballsack, and switches it on to the lower setting before stepping back again, and selecting a simply butterknife that had been in the freezer for this type of temperature and correct beginner knife play. Nothing dangerous. But oddly thrilling. "You're going to feel different sensations, baby, but trust me when I say I'm not going to hurt you." First placing the cool handle of the knife against Jonah's ass. "How's that feel?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 He clenches his fists as best as he can and he can feel his toes curl the moment he feels what he assume is Matthias's tongue against his hole. A whimpered sound escaped him right after a second smack. If only words could describe all the sensations he was feeling right now.

And the strange sensations just keeps coming and teases his senses. The sudden vibrating feeling against his balls causes him to moan out louder than he can control, and fuck, he already starts trembling. The neediness he felt before had tenfolded. His ass flexes automatically when he feels the touch of something cold against his skin. "I-it feels good, sir. You make me feel good."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 With Jonah's conformation, he continued. Turning the butter knife in hand, he carefully glides the cold, dull blade along Jonah's ass. It being so cold, it would feel sharp, but in reality it was harmless. Skin would never get split and blood would never peek through. Only leaving slight white lines in his wake as the skin got mildly irritated, but didn't indicate contact of the knife further. "You got a gorgeous ass, baby. It's a shame you should ever be wearing pants." He shakes his head, as if the submissive could see him as he trails the knife over the globe of the opposite ass cheek.

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 A shuddered breath escaped him when he feels whatever it is against the skin of his ass. It feels sharp, and it makes his heartbeats go faster with adrenaline. He is naked and exposed with no ability to see or move and-- is Matthias holding a knife? The thought should be scary, and yet all he feels is a thrilling sensation that makes him squirm-- only he can't do much of that. Between the vibration and whatever sharp object Matthias is handling right now, he isn't sure of what to feel, but he hears another moan escaping his lips in response to whatever his dominant is telling him.

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 Only Pressing the knife gently against a part of Jonah's ass briefly, before he removes it completely and moves for another tool. A pair of vampire gloves, which he only pulls one of on, then grips at Jonah's ass with a small groan of his own. It was something definitely possessive and territorial about the grope, but he doesn't think too long or hard on it, as he just grips, needing to get those pin-pricks to press into sensitive skin.

"Still my whore, Pretty Boy? You like when I make you moan for it as much as I like hearing you moan for it?" Letting his ass go, he slaps his hand back down on Jonah's ripe ass. "How does that feel?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Not knowing what comes next is what makes the whole thing a lot more exciting than it should be. He feels the grope-- he hears Matthias groan, and that, along with the prickly feeling makes him whimper yet again. Matthias Wants him, if that sound is anything to go by, and no toy or tool can excite him more than that knowledge.

"Ah! Y-yes, sir. I'm still your whore. I'm at your mercy-- please, I-- I want to feel you. I need to feel you in me like the good whore I am", he manage to breathe out. "Nothing has made me feel so good as your cock."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 Smug. That's all Matthias ever radiates when he gets submissive's weak for him using them. It's a feeling that'll never end on his part. It's enough for him to smack the glove against Jonah's ripe ass again, gripping and giving the plump flesh a shake. "Damn right. You're my little whore, who begs like a dream for me. Making me proud."

One more smack and he's removing the glove, picking up a candle next. It takes a minute to light it, allowing the special wax to melt enough before he leans down and blows some of the hot wax against Jonah's ass and back. "Fuck, you're gorgeous. How's that feel?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 A pleased noise escapes him over the praise. He makes him proud. He's a good whore who makes his dominant proud. His breath is a little ragged at this point and the excitement he feels is growing. Then he feels something hot dripping over the skin of his ass, causing him to hiss out another moan. "So, so good, sir-- what is that?"

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 "It's wax. I like my canvases painted pretty colors." Holding the candle out, he lets the multi-colored wax to drip over Jonah's ass cheeks again then blows the flame out and sets it aside. Stooping down, he switches the vibrator on to the higher end. "You are a gorgeous fuck toy, much better than my hand. Because you've turned me on with your useable ass, I'm going to use you. You may not come without my permission, do you understand me?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Wax. That made sense with the hot turning into something solid so quickly. He makes more hissing noises, mixed with sounds of groaning that indicates approval-- how could something like that feel so damn good? Fair enough-- he had always enjoyed a bit of pain in his life, but he hadn't thought much of it. He moans as the setting of the vibrator gets higher and preens at the promise of being used.

"I am your toy, sir", he agrees- "Your own whore to play with to make you feel good. That's all I want, sir-- I understand."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 Not bothering to remove his own clothes, takes to pressing his cloth covered crotch against Jonah's abused ass. He's hard. Of course he's hard, hearing this boy moan and whimper for him was so erotic, and naturally he was going to enjoy it. As he presses forward, he slips a hand between their bodies to tease the poor submissive's hole. It isn't gaping anymore, but it still doesn't hold much back when he presses it inside, testing how much he would have to prepare him. Luckily he was still loose enough, but would still need lubricant to make the slide inside wet and not too bad.

Using his favorite lubricant bottle, Matthias preps Jonah's ass with his fingers first then removes his cock from his pants. His large cock springing out with a bob, standing tall and proud in the open, weighing against his pelvis as he slides the condom over himself. Positioning himself, he presses in at long last. Giving his own grunt of satisfaction at the tight heat.

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Finally, finally he knows what's coming the moment he feels him teasing his ass again right before prepping him. It feels unbearable at this point, not because he's uncomfortable, but because he has been longing for Matthias's cock for so long now that he can hardly stand it.

Then he feels it. The familiar sting of having something big pushed into him, along with the stretch that follows. He tries to lift his ass as much as he can to welcome the Dominant's dick and moans out the moire and more he feels of him. "So big", he let out. "So big for my tight little ass. It feels so good, sir. You feel so good."

Matthias BOT 2020-04-26 There's never any possible way Matthias can push his entire cock deep into anyone without causing physical damage and hospitalization, but he works with what he has. Pushing in as deep as he could dare go, then begins with his movements. Hips thrusting forward and back, watching his dick slide in and out of Jonah with ease. The sight of the red hole accommodating his sheer size was hot, swallowing him whole. Every clench around him a silent beg to milk him for all he has.

"Damn right!" He slaps Jonah's ass again, over and over until the skin turns red. "Don't you forget who owns your ass either, Pretty Boy. My big dick, molding you into he shape of it. Such a greedy whore." Hand sliding up Jonah's back, he gets a hold of Jonah's hair and rugs his head back just a little as he slams into him. "Who owns your tight little ass, boy?"

Jonah [S] BOT 2020-04-26 Every thrust earns a moan out of Jonah that echoes through the playroom. He feels full. Complete. Just having that giant cock inside of him makes him feel accomplished in a way he could never describe.

He grunts as the other yanks his hair. Tears are forming in his eyes beneath the blindfold, tears that he is unable to control and tears that he have earned for being such a good whore. "Haaah-- You own my ass, sir, and only you", he cries out.

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 44

A return to business as usual was interrupted by Danse contacting me. I presumed at first he would have opinions regarding the recent attack on Jamaica Plain - Gunners, though they retreated and haven't been seen in the area since - but my friend surprised me. He wanted to remind me of my promise to Billy Peabody that he would meet other children.

Jamaica Plain would have been an ideal location, but with the recent attack, Danse suggested The Castle as an alternative. Ms. Shaw might not care for children running around her fort, but it would be a goodwill symbol and the children would be impressed. Most importantly, it's safe.

I agreed, and sent word to the Peabodys, MacCready, and every other family I've met who have a child. The invitation was extended to all the children of Diamond City as well, though I didn't expect much of a response. The Castle may be safe, but the journey through Boston is not, and so Valentine and I found ourselves escorting only our son and Nat Wright. Piper joined us, and Dogmeat of course.

MacCready and Duncan were there, and late in the day came Matt Peabody and Billy. Roger Warwick and his son Wally also made the trip north, which I was particularly glad to see since they live the closest to the Peabodys. Mr. Warwick was a bit… startled, to meet my partner. There was a clear moment of fear at seeing a second generation synth for the first time in a year, and he didn't bother to hide his confusion when Valentine spoke to him.

“Don't worry, friend, the Institute and I weren't on speaking terms even before they were blown up. I'm a prototype. I got out.”

Warwick processed this and shook Valentine's hand. “Then I'm pleased to meet you. Ah. Has Holmes told you -”

“About you?” Valentine grinned, “Secret's safe with me, don't worry. Did you meet Matt? You two are practically neighbors, or would be if there wasn't a factory full of super mutants in the way.”

That was something of an exaggeration, but Mr. Warwick and Mr. Peabody immediately set to discussing trade while I introduced MacCready to Ms. Shaw. He's made it perfectly clear that he's not a Minuteman, yet, he's only working for us. Shaw found that simultaneously annoying and amusing, but welcomed the help. Piper started interviewing the Minutemen stationed at the Castle about the success of the Minutemen and the history of the location. They humored her, though she did manage to strike up an in-depth conversation with one who once lived in Diamond City as a very young girl.

The children, for their part, hit it off instantly. Shaun showed no hesitation beyond a quick, “wow!” when introduced to Billy. Given that one of his fathers is mechanical, it's no surprise that physical appearance means little to him. Nat and Duncan followed their friend's lead, and Wally, not wanting to be left out, joined in the fun. They started with tag outside the door under the watchful eye of Dogmeat. The Minutemen on guard were there as well of course, but they had their duties to attend.

Some Minutemen thought this event was simply the General performing a public relations stunt; others thought it was good for kids to see what the Minutemen are like up close, in case they ever need them or want to join. A few Minutemen even started trying to come up with a way to safely transport more people here. Stealing a Brotherhood vertibird was floated as a possibility, but I silenced that with a glance. “Just a joke, General.”

I smiled, “How would you fly it if you did manage to steal one?”

They frowned, and went back to brainstorming.

The day went very well, a chill night wind sending the children inside. The children and their families shared space in the barracks overnight, and in the morning it was time for everyone to return home. Billy was effusive in his thanks, and told me to thank “Mr. Danse” as well. Mr. Peabody echoed the sentiment. I told them I would, and they headed south with the Warwicks.

MacCready and Duncan followed us west. When Piper found out MacCready is from the Capital Wasteland, her questions didn't stop until we parted ways. MacCready, clearly attempting to flirt, was more than happy to answer until it was time for he and Duncan to move further north.

After our safe return home, life finally returned to its usual routine - as much of a routine as a private detective in a post-apocalyptic wasteland can have. Much like before the war, there are always people who need help. Unfortunately, also as it was before the War, many of their problems are dull. Valentine would scold me for referring to them as such, but that is the best description. Now that I’ve grasped the finer points of life in this century, now that I can distinguish a scavver from a trader from a farmer by the patterns of mud on their knees, much of the mystery of the world is vanishing. It’s difficult to keep myself occupied.

And so it was that one afternoon Valentine came home from the office to find out why I hadn’t joined him there yet. He found me lying on the sofa with an arm draped across my face. He spoke to Codsworth in the hall, as if that would be far enough for me not to know what they were talking about, and strolled over to me.

“Any way I can help?” he asked.

“Murder someone and do a marvelous job hiding the evidence.”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “How about something less gruesome?”

“Burglary, blackmail, anything. As long as it’s stimulating.”

“Mhm. Here, move your legs… alright, I’ll move them for you.” My legs were suddenly pushed over the side as Valentine sat down, resulting in my body shaped like an ‘L’. “Now sit up.” I did not. He sighed, “Come on, Holmes, what’s wrong?”

“Depression triggered by the futility of a banal existence,” I answered flatly.

I heard the strike of a match as he lit a cigarette, “I sure hope existential ennui isn’t hereditary.” I scoffed at his attempt at humor before realizing he might have been in earnest. “Codsworth told me you haven’t eaten today. At all.”

“Food. What appeal could that possibly hold?”

“At the very least, it’ll help keep the folks who love you from worrying so much. You gonna be lying here like this when Shaun gets home from school?”

“Possibly.” I fully recognize I was being petulant now, but at the time I only knew I was bored.

Valentine smoked in silence for a few moments. “How do you feel about ghosts?”

The question was so outlandish I brought my arm down from my face, “What?”

He tried not to grin at his miniscule success at gaining my interest, “Rumor has it that the old Museum of Witchcraft up in Salem is haunted.”

I frowned, “Valentine, my feet remain firmly in the realm of reality, no matter my mental state. Ghosts need not apply.”

“They do when the alternative is this,” he gestured to my position. “I’m getting you out of the house, and away from any potential, uh, temptations.”

I was annoyed, “I haven’t taken anything.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

He wasn’t accusing, there was no malice or judgement in his voice, just a simple fact and all the consequences it implied. I would have been remarkably irritated if he didn’t love me so much. “Salem is at least a two day walk,” was my rather pathetic attempt at argument.

He laughed. “Since when has that stopped you?”

The outside of the museum resembles a Gothic style church, as fitting a setting as any. The main door to the building was chained shut, so we searched for another way in. Near the cellar door on the side lay the body of a Gunner, torn apart. Quite literally.

“Goodness,” Valentine muttered as I inspected the remains. “What do you think got her?”

“This might shed some light on the matter,” I said as I held up a holotape. The Gunner had been recording when she was killed. I played it on my Pip-Boy, and listened to this Private Hart speak to her commanding officer about hauling luggage from Lynn Woods for a robot butler named Wellingham.

“Wellingham?!” Valentine was shocked. Wellingham, I recalled, is the name of the Mr. Handy that works at an Upper Stands taphouse in Diamond City. “What the hell sort of business does that bartending bot have with Gunners?”

The tape continued, revealing the Gunners were being pursued by… something. Whatever it was, it was enough to have the commander in a mild panic. Everyone hurried inside the museum… except Private Hart, who was caught before she even knew what she was supposed to be running from.

A cold wind rattled the dead leaves on the trees and ground. “We goin’ in?” Valentine asked.

“My dear Valentine, this excursion was your suggestion. We would be remiss to turn back without investigating the ‘haunting.’”

“Thought you’d say that,” my partner grumbled and readied his gun. Together we descended into the basement.

We found the body of the commanding officer dismembered and beheaded on the floor, two of his squad in similar state close by. Something very large moved across the floorboards above our head. “Well, I don't think it's a mole rat,” Valentine softly muttered.

“Indeed.” I started to move toward the stair up to the main floor, the light of my Pip-Boy casting them in eerie green. The body of a dead Gunner hung through a gap in the dilapidated boards overhead. We froze as something pulled it out of sight.

“My god,” Valentine's voice betrayed a trace of fear. I couldn't blame him as a chill went down my own spine.

We could have turned back, but now I was curious. We crept up the stairs and entered the museum. The main floor of the building had been demolished, with little to indicate that once it had held any sort of exhibits or historical value. A low growl came from the back of the room as we hurried across the front, a massive scaled shape roaming the debris, its horned head turning as if looking for something.

We ran through the next doorway. “Front door’s chained shut,” Valentine whispered, “and getting that rusted lock off’s gonna make a lot of racket… what on earth?”

We’d stumbled upon a Gunner corpse in the museum’s bathroom. Scattered among his remains were gigantic eggs, their shells cracked or crushed. The man’s log provided an explanation - the Gunners were hired by Wellingham to bring him a nest of deathclaw eggs. The senior officers knew the mission, but the men, this sergeant and the private dead outside, and likely every other corpse in the building, had no idea what they were carrying.

I spotted a single undamaged egg and carefully picked it up.

“Letting a deathclaw see you carrying her egg ain’t the best idea,” Valentine muttered as he kept watch out the door.

“I have no intention of letting her. The nest is somewhere near Lynn Woods. We’ll have to make quick work of that chain on the door, or sneak out past -”

“Partner, I gotta admit, exactly how we’re gonna find a deathclaw nest without getting ripped apart escapes me.”

He had a point. “Still, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that glorified liquor cabinet use this to feed his pampered customers.”

“Ah, spite. Few motivations are so great.”

“You think this is insane.”

“Nope. I always like the idea of returning stolen goods. Hey, now’s our chance. Let’s move.”

We managed to escape that place without drawing the deathclaw’s attention and headed for Lynn Woods. “You are certain you want to come with me to return this egg?”

“I'd rather it be me doing the returning, simply because I probably won't die if a deathclaw rips my arms off, but the idea's a good one. It's not easy to do the right thing for something that seems so evil, but everyone deserves their fair shot.”

His sincerity brought me up short. “Mr. Valentine, sometimes you are astounding,” I said with full affection.

He was amused, “Not bad yourself, Mr. Holmes.”

“I'm perfectly serious. The amount of compassion you maintain in the face of this world is nothing short of incredible.”

“Ain't always the case,” he cautioned, “and my patience for folks gets pretty short when they waste their chance to do good.”

“Be as humble as you like, I stand by my statement.”

He laughed, “God forbid I argue with your ridiculously high opinion of me.” His hand briefly brushed my lower back, “Come on, let's get that egg back to the nest.”

Having left the presumed mother of the eggs in Salem, it was something of a surprise when the other parent stepped out of the darkness as we crept toward the nest. We froze, the egg in my outstretched hands. It growled, but didn’t attack.

“Think it knows what we're trying to do?” Valentine whispered.

“I don't want to stay to find out,” I muttered, and gently put the egg in the pile of vegetation and dirt. The deathclaw took a single step forward as we slowly backed away, watching our retreat until we were willing to attempt turning tail and running as fast as we could away from that place.

“You know Holmes,” Valentine joked, “I think ‘no ghost stories’ might be a good company policy after all.”

[kafkasgods]

ellis merchant BOT 09/30/2020 Ellis had found that his main concern when he went out at night wasn’t actually combating monsters at all, but combating his own boredom. Initially he’d managed to keep his focus on the border, spurred on by memories of the panic after Jo and Cass had crossed, but now? Several times four in the morning had rolled around to find Ellis out in the woods, playing games on his phone. A true hero in action.

There simply wasn’t enough to do. He could run through training exercises until his hands grew numb and his muscles ached, but with no one around but himself, the challenge swiftly became dull and repetitive.

Which was why tonight, shortly after eleven o’clock, he decided to try a different angle, and stood outside the Grapevine, eyeing the sign skeptically. He considered going in, but there was one bartender that he didn't need to see. Pulling out his phone, he wondered if it would be a waste of time and some of his precious patience to try and find out Jamie’s work schedule.

He was frowning down at it, trying to make his mind up who to text, when a pair of feet entered his field of vision. Glancing up, he winced, and tried to step out of the way, feeling oddly... guilty? Like he'd been caught doing something wrong, which he hadn't at all. She just had an unsettling way about her, in person—a result of her parentage, probably, but it still got under his skin. "Oh, hey—hey, Faaya. I was just... on my way in."

@Faaya Shah October 1, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/01/2020 “I should hope so. I’m not sympathetic on loiterers,” Faaya drawled, looking over the slightly rattled man. It might’ve been her doing, and some of it definitely was, but Ellis’ mouth had been downturned and his brows minorly furrowed as he stared at his phone long before Faaya directed much of her attention his way. Maybe he was stood up. Whatever it was, didn’t seem like a great spot to be in. She wasn’t entirely emotionally involved, but his feelings could make a decent profit.

“Jamie’s not working tonight, if you were looking for him.” Hopefully that didn’t deter him considering he was friends with her most annoying bartender. She began walking towards the entrance, giving a nod of greeting to her bouncer.  “But I’m sure I could get you a decent seat at the bar.” The man collecting the money gave Ellis an expectant look and Faaya paused, waiting for Ellis to follow.

@Ellis Merchant October 2, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/02/2020 Ellis’s eyes grew wide. It was like Faaya read his thoughts—that wasn’t a power that she could have, was it? He would’ve known, if that were the case, would he? But how else would she have guessed he was thinking about Jamie, of all people? And her tone was strange and he blinked in confusion. “I—I wasn’t looking for him, I want to avoid seeing him? But… good to know.”

When he moved to follow Faaya’s lead, and she stopped, and the doorman was looking at him, he only answered with another bewildered glance. “Oh, right.” Money. He hardly expected Faaya to waive the cover charge, for an acquaintance like him. It was hard to tell if she even liked him.

Ellis dug in his pocket and pulled out some crumpled bills, dumping them unceremoniously into the man’s waiting hand. He wasn't well practiced at this—could probably count on one hand the times he'd been to the Grapevine, and those had always been with friends, not on his own. Uncertainty over the wisdom of this whole thing was mounting again, definitely not helped by Faaya's presence.

@Faaya Shah

faaya shah BOT 10/02/2020 Faaya’s brow raised. “Avoid? Oh, did you guys get into an actual fight?” Hm. She could have sworn they were annoyingly chummy.

After Ellis paid, Faaya walked him through the club towards the back where the bar was, speaking a little louder over the music. “Huh. Well, he seems broken up about it because he’s been off. His skin is bad and he keeps picking up shifts. The only reason he’s not working tonight is because I made him. It’s terrible seeing him so often.” Normally, Faaya didn’t care to meddle, but if them making up made Jamie less annoying, then so be it.

As they approached the bar, the bartender didn’t need to be asked for Faaya’s drink, already preparing her a hibiscus tea. “Your fight can’t be doing you much good either since you’re here.”

@Ellis Merchant October 3, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/03/2020 ( tw alcohol mention )

Ellis felt his mouth dry up. “Did he say that?” His confusion mounted as he followed her in, hands digging into his pockets. Jamie had been very clear he’d never say anything about the kiss, but could Faaya have caught him out on the fight itself, or something? Maybe seen the bruises? Ellis’s mind began to race. How would she have seen him shirtless? But… it was Jamie, after all. He had a certain reputation. And Ellis had also personally managed to catch him shirtless a few times, it sometimes just happened…

Or maybe Jamie and Faaya were involved? It seemed plausible for a second, until she began dragging him for his appearance, and stated outright she didn’t want to see so much of him. It would've been amusing if he wasn't feeling so lost. “Oh, so… you two definitely aren’t…” He squinted at her and awkwardly trailed off, deciding it was safer not to finish the thought.

“I’m—I’m fine, honestly, just trying to beat boredom? We’d actually been doing better than usual, or… at least, that’s what I'd thought...” Was there something going on that he didn't know about?

...Gods, was he seriously considering checking up on Jamie?? He ran a hand over his face. "Can I just get a drink, please," he said weakly.

@Faaya Shah October 5, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/05/2020 “More or less,” Faaya answered, sipping at her iced tea. It wasn’t like she and Jamie spoke without a couple threats in every conversation, so of course she wouldn’t hear things from the horse’s mouth; she just had to go off what she’d observed.

The last thing she expected to come out of Ellis’ mouth was that assertion. Still the snort that sounded off didn’t come from Faaya, and instead it was the bartender who was covering her stifles and waving her apologies. “Jamie’s not my type,” Faaya finally answered, darkly, pausing to give it some thought. “Maybe if he was funny.”

Ellis seemed like he was at a loss with himself and honestly, Faaya was used to being around people like that, so she didn’t may it much mind — Just waited for his drink to be poured. “Really? Huh, then I guess I might be wrong. Well then, if I am, do me a favor and cheer him up or something.” She wasn’t his friend so she certainly didn’t want to.

@Ellis Merchant October 9, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/09/2020 ( tw alcohol )

The funny thing about all of this—or, not funny so much as excruciatingly humiliating—was that before the dinner party, Ellis had thought about Jamie Stewart maybe... once a month? If that? They didn’t run in the same circles, and since Ellis and Betty had kept their friendship quiet and strictly in-the-workplace, their lives really only intersected whenever Jamie needed to be told he was wrong in the group chat or came around to bang on doors at Brookwood like the world’s least endearing salesman.

Now here Ellis sat, avoiding him like it was top priority, and even being asked to cheer him up? He glowered silently at his rum and coke. No more, he vowed. This had to stop. “I absolutely refuse,” he snapped.

Then he downed half of it, remembered where he was, that it was actually not Faaya’s fault, and winced. “Sorry, I know that's unhelpful but d’you mind if we talk about anything else?” He glanced around. “Actually, what do people do here when they’re on their own? Just drink in silence?” Was that an option? The idea appealed to him, but it also seemed highly pathetic.

@Faaya Shah October 10, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/10/2020 It was one thing to say no to Faaya. It was another thing to bite her head off about it. Especially when the thing she’d requested was something, by most people’s standards, kind. Her head had whipped towards Ellis, giving him a sharp stare. The unease hold she had on the atmosphere around them only slackened slight at Ellis’ apology.

Fine. She resumed sipping at her own iced drink. Innately knowing exactly people’s boundaries, Faaya didn’t have any reason to push. “It’s a nightclub, Ellis,” she answered plainly. “They get drinks, they dance, sometimes they make-out. Whatever liberation they can get here. What kind of liberation are you looking for?”

@Ellis Merchant October 11, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/11/2020 ( tw alcohol mention )

It was a decent if somewhat baffling question. What kind of liberation did he need? With each passing second this felt more and more like the wrong place for him to be. Drinking was fine, he supposed, but it got boring fast. Making out with random people didn’t work for him, because besides the suggestion making him cringe, he was only interested in Sam at the moment and she quite clearly wasn’t here. Dancing was just... out of the fucking question. He wished the Arcade was still open.

“None of that really sounds like it’ll do it for me, but I figured it was worth a try," he confessed. "Think I’ll just finish my drink, pay, and get out before things get... weirder.” He knew it wasn’t exactly tactful to phrase it that way, but it was the honest truth, so if she resented him for it there wasn't much else he could do about that.

@Faaya Shah October 13, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/13/2020 When it came to people, it was all or nothing with Faaya. Ellis was decidedly not going to be a friend. Having worded their encounter as ‘weird,’ Faaya knew he promptly asserted her negatively. That was fine and she was used to it, which was why she even had her own categories in the fit place. “Can I ask you something?” Faaya did not wait to be approved or denied and she certainly expected an answer. “Are your abilities balanced?” Everyone had known about his Nyx and Apollo heritage and Faaya had admit some curiosity to it.

@Ellis Merchant October 15, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/15/2020 He shrugged minutely, allowing the question, whatever it was. He had no way to know what she was likely to ask, but he expected it might be something to do with what he was doing in a nightclub if he didn’t actually enjoy any nightclub activities. Instead, he did a double take, and stared at her. “Uh, not.... not really?” he admitted. “They’ve never been balanced, more… each side tended to cancel out the other. I could access them sometimes but never with any sort of control. Now—” he glanced at her, wondering how much he should say.

“I spoke to Nyx, and she basically increased my access to her side of things, but I can’t access my Apollo side anymore,” he explained. “I figured that only one half of my supposed abilities was better than none at all. Why?” he asked her in return, then squinted. “Wait, you’re a legacy too, aren’t you?” He had genuinely forgotten, but something sparked in his memory.

@Faaya Shah October 16, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/16/2020 The reason Faaya had asked in the first place was because as time went on, she found her powers growing in strength and getting harder to manage. So when Ellis answered, she couldn’t help but be surprised. Canceling out wasn’t something she’d thought was an option, but she guessed it made sense in some unfortunate way. Faaya sipped at her drink, suddenly noting the two opposite flavors of bitter and sweet. If Ellis’ parentage had any sense, they’d let him find some balance and the smartest one in that equation would be satiated with a nice, cold glass of hibiscus tea.

“I am,” Faaya answered. “People tend to think the aura of violence I have comes from Phobos instead of Enyo. Which I guess makes sense since I have a presence that precedes me. ” Finishing the last of her drink, Faaya puckered her lips and pushed the glass forward. It was swooped up in a second. “I don’t talk to her as much as Phobos and don’t have as much skills from her as possible, but unlike you, I’m in a situation where impressing one is impressing the other, so.”

Faaya turned her shoulders towards him, pointing a light finger in his direction. “Were you ever good at singing?”

@Ellis Merchant October 17, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/17/2020 He’d honestly kind of forgotten that her intimidating atmosphere came from her godly parentage, because it just seemed sort of… natural, on her. It did make him feel slightly better about himself, but no more at ease in a practical sense. Just that he had good reason to find her off-putting. He turned back to his drink, feeling awkward. “I have that effect sometimes, but I’m pretty sure it’s more ‘cause people can sense that I find them annoying,” he offered.

The question caught him off guard, again. “Uh, I mean… I can carry a tune? And play a couple instruments decently, but not like…” He paused, formulating the best explanation slowly. “Mezzie got all the real talent. I just have an inclination. And my dad taught me a lot growing up. But for me, music's just a way to unwind. Same goes for archery. No godly skills there, only a lot of hours of practice." His tone grew a little bitter, so he decided to stop there.

@Faaya Shah October 19, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/19/2020 It was likely that Faaya cast the stone just as early as Ellis did because if she were being honest, she was surprisingly not hating his company. He was nothing like Jamie and she liked that his words actually had weight. “You don’t have to tell me about Mezzie’s talent. She sang to me about a dead bug.” There was a joke in there somewhere, but Faaya didn’t care to think too hard on it. What she did think she’d heard was some resentment, something she knew a mile off given that she was filled with it.

As a kindness, she waved for another drink for him. “I used to wish I was any other kid of a God, but I think I most fantasized about being Apollo’s. Maybe you and I have some things in common.”

@Ellis Merchant October 23, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/23/2020 ( tw alcohol )

He chuckled quietly.“That sounds like something she’d do.” He wondered if maybe Faaya wasn’t quite as bad as she seemed, and made a snap decision about it. “Actually, if you weren’t creeped out by that, she’d probably love to hear from you? With the whole… fame business, she kind of has a hard time being herself in front of people.”

Ellis barely noticed as his drink was replaced, as he was too busy computing what Faaya said. Maybe the first one had already begun to go to his head, a little, but he didn’t feel as awkward as he scoffed. “I mean, did I wish I was one of them at first? Yeah, course. But after a couple years you realize they can be fucking obnoxious. All that gold? Shining like the sun, armed with the gift of Rhyme?” He didn’t keep the scorn out of his voice. “They’re not exactly big on subtlety, y'know. I’m actually… kinda glad now. That I’m not one of them.” he sipped his new drink, the confession feeling like a relief to say out loud, even if it wasn't entirely true.

@Faaya Shah

faaya shah BOT 10/23/2020 Faaya raised a brow as she glanced at Ellis. “Are you trying to set us up?” It was kind of amusing and she was more than certain he was only doing it for Mezzie’s sake, but that didn’t take away from the fact that someone was suggestion Faaya for a friend. “It would probably validate you to know we’re acquainted and I don’t think we hate each other? Which is a marked improvement for most people, especially around here.”

Admittedly, Faaya laughed lightly at the tone he’d taken and the points he was making. “No, you’re right. I told Mezzie not to tell anyone, but she rhymed my name with 'heyya' and if I had to spend my entire life at camp hearing that, I would take my chances outside the protective barrier. Anyway, it’s too late in the game for me to think I’d be better anywhere else.” She was quiet for a moment, lightly brushing the condensation on her cup. “I kind of wish I could be drinking with you.”

@Ellis Merchant October 25, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/25/2020 ( tw alcohol & death mention )

He shrugged one loose shoulder, feeling more relaxed than he expected. “I don’t think she’d care if I did, but who knows.” Predicting Mezzie’s moods was a terrible idea at the best of times, but given how open she’d been about wanting more friends, he thought it was a safe bet. “Epineios is not exactly the hub of socialization that she’s used to back in Hollywood. Aside from being a bit intimidating, you don’t actually seem that bad to me?”

That was dangerously close to a positive assessment, but it was true. He glanced at her. “Aren’t you the manager? Who's going to tell on you, if you do?” He opted not to mention that he was fairly sure he’d seen the bartenders drink with customers on occasion. "It's war time." He nudged her stool with a foot. "Live a little, while we all still can."

@Faaya Shah

faaya shah BOT 10/25/2020 The compliment seemed obvious since Faaya felt the same way. “Likewise,” was all she said about it. She did, however, laugh quietly at his astute observation. “Since I took up the mantle, I’ve had to work hard on running a tight ship here. My predecessor had a more laissez faire approach, so I’m sure you can guess what it's like trying to change years of habit in, now, my staff.” Faaya lifted her shoulders. “I’m also not the most likeable person, so really, all I’ve got is my work ethic and if I give Jamie or Dayn or whoever any ammunition, they’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

@Ellis Merchant October 29, 2020

ellis merchant BOT 10/29/2020 He winced in understanding, and nodded. “When I took over the archives at the library, well. Last time anyone bothered doing that was the 90s? I probably breathed more dust than air, for the first month.” But at least his job didn’t involve other people to the same extent, nor the amount of responsibility that running a business had to carry with it. He snorted lightly. “I mean, makes sense you wouldn’t want to risk it. but honestly if they said anything about you taking a break for like, one night? That’s fucked up."

"I’d fight them for you,” he offered charitably. “I mean, I’d beat Jamie's ass for any reason, and I have before. And Dayn doesn’t seem that intimidating, not compared to most of the people I train with.” Maybe he was bragging a little, but he did feel safe in the knowledge that he could take down people a lot bigger than him, unless they were divinely gifted in combat skills or something.

@Faaya Shah

faaya shah BOT 10/29/2020 The library wasn’t exactly a place Faaya frequented since reading as a hobby had become put on the backburner as life had its way, but talking to Ellis made her miss it. “It is fucked up, but I do thrive off the moral superiority. Or at least I’ve been told that, so.” She lifted her shoulders with a slight amused exhale. “What’s the library like? I’ve only been like in and out, but do you do community stuff in there? And do have any like...Demigod books?” It only just occurred to her if there were some, maybe she’d find something useful.

At Ellis’ offer, Faaya blinked, before smiling just a little. Either Ellis really hated her staff or they were friends. What a strange turn of events. “I do plan on taking you up on that sometime, Ellis. Is there anything I can do for you?”

@Ellis Merchant

[oelfinessend]

just can’t handle it, must get round to it

Hello, @tsukiharu​. Here’s your secret santa step in. I’m incredibly sorry for the delay, but I was stranded away from decent coverage and electricity, and had to climb the roof to check my mail :/. Moreover, by the time you replied I’ve already began writing and while I certainly have ideas for your prompts they will take a while to write properly if you’d still want them. My attempt at arranged marriage and courtship has run away as early as the second page, so all I can do is give you this bizarre AU and hope you won’t hate me :[

Find the fic on <a href=“http://archiveofourown.org/works/13460478“>ao3</a> or in this post.

‘Greater than many you will fly.’ They wrote. ’Higher than your wildest dreams you will be taken.’ Was promised. ‘And for all will be price.’

Except Tony won’t fly and pay the price because he is Howard’s price, carelessly promised for many trinkets.

He knows it since before he can remember, that his father agreed to give away his own child for a chance to find Captain America.

He also knows that whatever his being a ‘price’ might entail so far it involves him being miserable, added with impressive substance abuse and whole weeks he spends in his workshop. Tony has his workshop only because of Obie, who allows him to invent, to think, to create. Aside from his bots and JARVIS, he can converse only with Obie and Rhodey. The staff is afraid of him and the world seems to be focused entirely on his every move, analysing the rare precedent of a prayer being answered.

Tony meets Pep like that. She masks her gentle curiosity and the following pity very well and later they disappear whatsoever, and for that he will be forever grateful. This is the lifeline that allows him to keep going, to live while Howard Stark becomes a husk of himself with eyes still burning with unholy fire, with the spite of the damned. He is a recluse, immersed in his projects that promise to drain the Stark fortune. SI is all but given to Obadiah who likes to lure Tony into his dealings and Tony hires a maddeningly competent Virginia Potts to be left  with the only thing he really cares about - making stuff.

Soon enough, Pep is involved in SI far more than she is in Tony’s life, which is understandable, and somehow Tony finds himself looking at his new assistant. The guy is standing right in his workshop, looking friendly and soft around the edges. Then it turns out it’s impossible to chase this intruder away, his soft edges are bullshit and soon Tony finds himself snarking back at Adam.

He’s awesome, that guy who grasps Tony’s jargon and ideas and keeps up and gives as good as he gets and doesn’t take any bullshit thrown at him. Adam is putting Tony on edge, though, the puzzle pieces never quite fitting and something always missing in the picture.

Two or so months of amazing creative process later, Tony is doodling idly, having just showered and eaten, because Adam is a prude and won’t go anywhere near if Tony ‘is not presentable’.

This is the day everything goes to shit, because Howard decides to show his zombie face an hour before Obie storms in, demanding to see Tony.

Obie narrows his eyes at Adam, demanding to state his identity, while Adam looks bored and unimpressed, which is his default expression. In fact, he looks unnervingly interested in Howard, which kinda makes Tony hate them both (and, as usual, hate himself, because what else could he have expected, what did he think, he could be interest-)

“Address me in that manner once more and your tongue shall be buried ahead of you.”

This is a growl and everything falls silent. Adam smiles his thin smile and cocks his head.

“Who are you?” This is the first time Tony’s heard his father speak in years and his voice is scratchy, low. His eyes are still unnerving, portraying his unyielding focus. Adam keeps on with being unimpressed, though, only moves and paces around Howard, looking him up and down.

“Midgard’s grown disrespectful since I’ve last visited it.” He muses and changes, just like that, his hair growing longer from its stylish cut, skin pales and eyes grow green, so bright that Tony can actually discern the colour from across the room. Then not-Adam is moving back towards Tony, his movements smoother, somehow more powerful and just as the transformation the fact that Tony isn’t scared is baffling. He is actually relieved. This is some closure, finally, to (not) Adam’s unnerving edge and clearly, the bullshit ‘price’ thing is coming to its end.

“Are you Adam?” Tony asks carefully, his lizard brain alarmed at that prowl.

Head cocked, eyes laughing, the man smiles. “I am Loki.” Is all he replies.

Loki. Tony knows that name, he’s spent countless hours reading on any supernatural being known to the Internet and Loki is… interesting. Not really appropriate, in Tony’s opinion and surprising, given Howard’s prayer.

Apparently satisfied with whatever reaction on Tony’s face he sees Loki smiles again and sprawls into a chair, impressively pulling off his almost whore-like posture. “Now you may leave us alone.” He addresses both Obie and Howard and both dig their heels.

“I’m not leaving Tony with whoever you are.” Obie intones darkly and Howard steps forward, looking almost feverish.

“Who are you to appear in my home and demand this after making me wait for so many years!” He almost shouts and his voice breaks slightly out of disuse.

Loki sighs irritably. “Mages of Asgard cannot break a prayer-bound promise. Your demand was heard and it was satisfied - your mind was clear and fast for many years, was it not?” He waves dismissively as Howard opens his mouth. “Don’t let your hubris blind you, mortal. No one on Midgard is able to go weeks without any sleep and yet your thinking was unhindered. Such was the blessing given to you. Whatever you decided to do with it concerns me not and I am beginning to tire of your presence.” He smiles at the procured indignation and turns to Obie. “And you don’t have to worry, mayhaps if the Fates favour us we can all go to Afghanistan.”

At that Obie pales strangely and seems to deflate. Looking bored, Loki switches his gaze to Tony. “This is getting ridiculous. I will await in your workroom.”

Left alone and gaping at the empty chair, Tony scrambles away from Howard’s burning glare and Obie’s thoughtful one. As stated, Loki is in his workshop, occupying his usual place with his newfound dramatic flair.

Loki patiently sits through Tony’s almost-meltdown and only blinks at the following barrage of questions. It happens that Loki is a prince and a mage (ha! Tony will need far more than a couple of parlor tricks to even contain his laughter, never mind taking this seriously) and the Head Seidrmaster in Asgard. It doesn’t really matter except that it totally does, because apparently Howard’s half-assed (by Loki’s standards) prayer reached one of those seidr-people and for whatever reason they decided to go along.

“A prayer gives a remarkable bout of power, of happiness.” Loki explains patiently, giving off surprisingly Pepper-like vibes. “An inexperienced mage has to be exceptionally strong of will to resist that. Uldr was not.”

Tony snorts. He doesn’t really care (he does, a little, Loki is a living story and also a lot of people would literally give their limb for a chance to talk to him).

“When I found out about the deal it was too late.” Loki purses his lips unhappily, eyes becoming hard. “And the duty of overseeing this fell to me.” He makes a vague gesture with his left hand. “I admit I have forgotten about the Midgardian lifespan and allowed myself to linger a bit too long.”

Tony huffs, asks about the lifespan thing and blinks at the answer. Five thousand Asgard’s years, Loki says, more for a mage. Asgard’s year is nearly four of Earth’s.

Talk about unimaginable scales, Tony honestly can’t comprehend the life where decades are nothing, where your milestones are hundreds.

His mind blanks out a bit at that and when Tony finally scrambles his brains back in order he finds himself alone.

There is very little time for him to begin feeling abandoned or offended because soon he hears the commotion. By the time Tony decides to investigate he is again in Loki’s company and for a change the other man looks pleased.

The following days are, for a lack of a better word, busy. Everyone has a lot to do; Howard is trying to pin Loki down and get something from him, Loki vanishes and appears as he pleases, his mood changing just as suddenly. Obie is suspiciously docile while Pep is busy arranging the business so that it belongs to Tony. That is a sudden development and apparently both Howard and Obie are okay with Loki basically telling them what to do. Well, not really, Howard is all of a sudden a lot more present in the mansion and Tony’s life. Tony is busy planning building his own tower where he will live as far from this gloomy place as possible. He discovers that managing a company is fucking hard, especially if you just basically got it and the attention he thought he is accustomed to is even more intense and seemingly every person in the world wants something from you.

Loki doesn’t help. In fact, Loki revels in the chaos, which is unsurprising, given his title. He refuses to accept numerous invitations or even pleas coming for him. At the same time, he somehow helps Tony, because navigating people is hard and Loki knows how it’s done. It’s pleasant, even, that change of pace and scenery, the constant challenge and, most importantly, the freedom. For the first time Tony is able to get out, to do as he chooses and give a finger to anyone objecting. Not always and not really, but he moves out and never looks back.

***

“What you are describing is marriage.” Tony says flatly, looking down at Loki. Which is only because he’s standing six feet higher, overseeing the construction of his tower. Because now he can build himself a fucking tower.

“Yes, in your language and culture that is the closest concept.” Loki allows and returns the look. He manages to stare Tony down, the fucker. “But you need to take into consideration that ‘the marriage’ as you know it is just the most long lived and respected form of union on Midgard, which is untrue for most of the other Realms. I’ve been married by Aesir customs, married twice.” He jumps to Tony, covering fifteen feet in one effortless leap. “What the All-Father demands is different.”

“I don’t care.”

Tony doesn’t, he doesn’t care about some medieval crap with predestiny and respectful unions.

“‘Medieval.’” Loki spits. “Your charming egotism will help in your business, I think.” He smiles toothily at Tony’s outraged grimace. “Your conservative and limited brain is so busy clutching at comforting concepts you can’t even hear me properly.”

“Conservative and limited?” Tony hisses in disbelief, because wow. “Explain how is your magic-bound shit is not limited? It was without my fucking consent and now I need to fucking marry you because some guy I don’t even believe exists says so!”

“Consent.” Loki snorts. “Don’t cheapen the word. Your father consented for you, as is your land’s custom. It can’t be marriage because I am not a lawful citizen of Midgard so this argument is obsolete. And it’s not marriage by the Asgard’s law, Anthony.”

“Yes, we are just bound by your voodoo shit and take responsibility for each other’s actions. Wow, that’s not marriage at all.”

Loki’s eyes narrow and face relaxes, which is beyond alarming, he’s on his way to being livid.

“Not by Asgard’s law.” He repeats in a soft, calm voice. “And what a hardship it will be, with that law not recognized on Midgard and as such you being a man free to pursue whatever fancy might strike you. Ah, what a burden to be protected by the royal House of Odin, to have an opportunity to learn the ways other realms live and evolve, to perfect your inventions in ways unimaginable to any on Midgard.” He gives a tender smile, which gives an unpleasant contrast to the offended fury of his glare. “But that’s a scientist’s reasoning, so what am I even thinking?”

And, because he loves having the last word, Loki disappears. Tony swears loudly and explicitly, hoping that the words will reach their target.

Loki doesn’t pop out the following day, or week, or month. Tony goes from scared to angry to repentant to offended to furious.

By the time the bastard decides to finally show his face the Tower is ready, a shiny, perfect thing better than anything Tony could’ve dream of. In a fit, tied in knots about Loki’s absence, he decided to stop with the weapons and now is busy dealing with the fallout. The press hounds him, Obie keeps throwing him dark looks and even always flawless Pep looks harried.

Tony arranges for a new PA and that is exactly when a timid-looking guy decides to throw a fucking grenade at him. Tony is too busy staring as the grenade is being disintegrated by a golden mist to hear the crunch of bones.

He looks up at Pep’s scream and follows the guy as he drops to Loki’s feet, his head turned almost 180. There’s a moment of silence and they are alone again, body vanishing along with Loki.

“You fucking motherfucker.” Tony growls, which is a bit lame, but whatever. What the fuck is he thinking, disappearing and then-

Loki is here again, with a loud, uncharacteristic noise. He looks at Pepper and throws another body at her feet.

“I though corporate espionage is against the law on Midgard.” He sneers, nudging at the woman. “Or do you invite killers willfully?”

Pepper, bless her, calms down immediately and peers down at the woman, who, Tony can see now, is alive and just unconscious.

“Are you bleeding?” Is what she asks next and Tony snaps his eyes higher. Loki’s lips press together and it brings out the unhealthy grayness of his face.

“Look out for her.” Is his reply.

“Wait a second.” Tony springs into action, cursing himself for standing there like an idiot. Loki picks up the woman and gives Tony an unimpressed stare.

“We need to talk”. Tony says quickly but it’s too late.

He curses again and turns away from Pep’s curious and pitying eyes.

Fucker, selfish fucker, that Loki.

Tony doesn’t bother with goodbye, just goes to his fabulous penthouse and pulls the feed. He tells himself it’s purely to learn who wants him dead but in truth he concentrates on Loki as he appears in a burst of sparks and grasps the man’s head, long fingers sure, experienced. Loki sways a little as he pick the body up and sways again when he reappears with the woman - who Tony needs to investigate also - and Loki’s never swayed, even when he played his part as Adam.

He hates himself for the fact that all of his anger and indignation disappear and now there is only worry and brittle hope, stronger than ever, because Loki protected him, he obviously came because that golden thingy alerted him and the fact that Tony was, err, spelled, apparently, is a bit condescending but mostly returns the warmth missing since after their last conversation.

Tony hates that he is mostly okay with the weird not-really-marriage thing because it will give him an added leverage to pin Loki down and explore other planets, fuck that, other star systems, Tony was really having a childish reaction. Maybe he needed the time to stew and think this shit over, who knows. Now he just hopes that Loki’s alright and comes back soon. He chases the thoughts of ‘six months are nothing to his fifteen thousand years, he can disappear for a year this time’ away with effort. Tony hopes.

“Sir.” JARVIS wakes him gently. “Sir, you have a guest.”

“Whatever.” Tony yawns, tries to stretch his neck.

“It’s Mr Odinson.” J says with a hint of gentle reproach and Tony bolts out of his chair.

“The living room, sir.” JARVIS provides.

Loki is standing in front of the glass wall (because Tony’s had enough of the mansion’s semi-darkness), cutting an impressive figure against the windows. For the first time he’s dressed in not Earth’s clothes. There is a lot of leather and what looks like gold designs on his boots and sleeves.

At Tony’s steps Loki turns around, revealing more gold on his high collar and what looks like a stylized breastplate. He looks kinda like the prince he claims to be.

“You needed to talk.” Loki says evenly, keen eyes watching as Tony moves forward and politely looks at Loki’s face and not his alien clothes.

“Yeah, well.” This is so uncomfortable, fuck. “Want a drink?”

After a moment of consideration Loki inclines his head. His gaze presses on Tony as he moves to the bar and waves in the direction of the couch, hoping the gesture is welcoming and effortless, not dismissive.

Loki is surprisingly omnivorous so Tony takes a decanter of whiskey, because there’s no way he’s living through this conversation sober. By the time he makes it to the chair Loki’s already settled, more collected than his usual sprawl of limbs.

“I have conversed with JARVIS briefly.” Loki starts and Tony, who was just a second ago busy manning up to apologize, is blindsided a bit. “He has new servers and capacity, isn’t he better as your assistant?”

The question is voiced with a gentle curiosity, which is very polite, and Tony hates it. He snorts and waves his glass.

“But I programmed J and I can silent him. That’s sometimes counterproductive.”

He waits for a snort or a derisive smile at ‘counterproductive’, but it never comes and Tony frowns. “C’mon, what’s with that diplomatic stuff?” He can’t quite bring himself to apologize, not because he doesn’t feel guilty, but because- Tony doesn’t even know himself.

Loki’s eyes are unnaturally green and very bright.

“What do you wish to talk about?”

Honestly, sincerely, Tony just can’t. What the fuck is up with that bastard?

“What do you think? Where were you, why the fuck did you just leave and didn’t bother to, I don’t know, visit and rant at me? What’s that misty thing and what the fuck did it do to a grenade? Why weren’t the pen Pep threw at me three weeks ago misted away? Are you alright? Because you didn’t look all that great just this morning. Where did you take that guy and I really want to investigate, you know, my attempted assassination. And is all that shit with not-marriage still valid or  you just decided to fuck off for good?”

Loki’s brows shoot up at that last part and admittedly Tony has revealed a bit more than he intended.

“Hmm.” Loki visibly relaxes, his body sprawling more and face more open. He looks up. “In order: I think there are multiple questions you want to talk about, I have left because there were too many hurtful words on my mind and some blows are easy to make and hard to recover from.” Loki’s eyes are heavy under his slight frown. “I had no desire to make a visit for a quarrel and I have duties I needed to attend to on top of that. I left a protection spell working and it is somewhat sentient so it couldn’t react violently to the Lady Pepper’s pen. I am well, the alert came in a bit of situation but the Aesir are more resilient than you of Midgard and any wounds I received are healed by now. Your assailant's body is kept for future purposes and the union still needs to take place.”

“Somewhat sentient?” Tony repeats and forces himself back on track. “Well, thanks for holding back, I suppose.” He doesn’t know what to say. Tony feel stupidly grateful for that, shit, he is angry but he’s also glad that Loki didn’t eviscerate him, because he very well can, both with words and, apparently, with his bare hands, fuck. Tony just knows that he’s most likely will rewatch the footage of this evening when Loki leaves. With that thought in mind he blurts. “Are you staying over? There’s a floor for you.”

He wants to disappear as soon as he says that, but Loki brightens a bit, not a hint of derision on his face. “A floor for me?” He smiles, but it’s a pleased smile.

“Yeah, well, aren’t you a prince?” Tony tries for lighthearted. It was a foregone thing in his planning, even after Loki decided to hide his face, that there would be a place for him, and what a joke to give a guest room when Tony has the whole Tower and it’s Loki.

“Show me.” Loki says, as he always has, when he was Adam and demanded to know everything about Tony’s work and when he is Loki and wants to know everything about Tony’s life.

Loki likes his floor, which is a bit strange, because Tony had no idea what to do with the interior and left it as it is - bare walls, which makes him a bit of a dumbass to invite a guest to sleep on cement floor.

Still, Loki is obviously pleased. “Ah, and can I raise the walls as I see fit?”

Tony shrugs at that, because whatever. “You have to let me get J’s sensors here, though.”

“I’m afraid my seidr will intervene with their workings anyway, but I’ll think of something if that’s necessary.” Loki allows, making a dismissive gesture and successfully making every wall disappear. Tony blinks at the sudden illusion of low ceiling and turns around in light panic. Thankfully, the elevator is still present.

“Are you competing with the palace of Asgard, Anthony?” Loki asks with a smile as he steps around, looking back and forth. There are multiple shiny balls springing from his hands and floating around and giving the surroundings a warm hue.

“I’m Tony Stark.” Tony huffs in reply, which sounds a bit stupid but Loki nods in understanding. Then he makes a forceful step, more like a stomp and the space begins to morph.

In a matter of minutes they are standing in an inviting hall, with light walls and ceiling adorned with what looks like multiple polished crystals. Loki disappears into a wide, large arc of pale stone and by the time Tony catches up the next room is transformed also, there is a large black bowl in the middle, made of what appears to be semi-transparent rock.

“Is it one of your customs?” Tony calls while Loki is busy creating low padded stools or something. At the inquiring glance Tony shrugs and motions at the bowl. “I know you are not vikings but you must drink a lot.” The bowl is easily seven feet in diameter.

Loki looks uncommonly bewildered then he huffs. “It’s a fireplace, Anthony.”

“A- A what? It’s not a fireproof room!”

He receives an impressive eye roll in reply. Loki settles on a very soft-looking seat and gives Tony one last dirty look before dumping firewood and with a snap of fingers there is fire. Bright golden light which lights the bowl from the inside, making it rich red with deep blue streaks running roots-like from the bottom of the bowl.

“There will be no smoke.” Loki says, looking at the ceiling intently. There is nothing to see for a mortal eye but aside from pleasant warmth there is no smell or other sign of open fire. Tony settles closer to Loki and stares at the crackling fire.

“You can’t create matter.” He says at last because he can’t really think of anything else.

“Of course not.” Loki replies. “The law of Universe doesn’t work like that.”

“Right. Because you knew physics so well.”

It was Tony who had to explain everything to him, even if Loki is an exceptionally fast learner.

“Oh, do be more condescending. I never learned Midgard’s sciences and why would I? You have only recently began to get closer to understanding the world around you, while Svartalfar scholars knew how to create local singularities long before the birth of eucumene.” Loki snorts gently at the last word. “To be able to change the Universe at will one must understand how it works; to apply pressure at exactly the right point in the exact amount. This is what a mage is, and magic as you so charmingly laugh at is nothing like what I grew up learning. We do not deal in toad hearts or whatever your tales concocted. We study the workings of seidr and the World Tree and work with the knowledge we gather, we do not hope for a result.”

“So. Still physics.” Tony grins at Loki’s huff and nudges a bit closer. “And what were you doing? How did you make all this stuff?”

“I did not make the fireholder. I fetched it from my workroom, such items are not created overnight. Mostly I just rearranged the matter residing here. There will be more work to make the floor to my liking, but it will do for now.”

“Wow, your mageness, you’re easy to please.” Tony gives the bare room a telling look and grins. He missed this.

“I slept on bare stone or wet shore many a time. This is no hardship.”

“Sure, Loki Grills, as you say.” Then, after a pause, Tony itches again. “So, you can take whatever you want from wherever?”

Loki scrunches his nose. “I need to be familiar with the place and with the item in question; my workroom is imbued with my seidr, it’s the place I know the best in all the Realms, as such concentrating on it and reaching out is no hardship. Otherwise it’s easier to shift somewhere and extract what is needed by hand. Small items I carry around.” He makes a smooth gesture rotating his wrist and there is a bottle in his hand.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket dimension?” Tony asks, because. Because.

“You call it that, yes.” Loki nods. “But it’s more like a cluster of bends in space, individual for each item. It’s easier that way.”

Tony blinks at him, what the fuck, you bastard, how could you- it hits him suddenly that Loki’s been teleporting this whole time and apparently Tony’s been so deep in denial that he wrote it off as some bullshit pseudo-god power, but no, Loki has just been bending time and space and leaping light years away and back with just a thought.

“Do it again!” Tony demands, hopping closer and concentrating solely on Loki’s hands. He has a moment to hate himself for sounding like an eager kid (he feels like an eager kid, but that’s a heartbreak for another time), then Loki lifts both hands and makes a flowing, rotating gesture, then grasps as a book appears out of thin air. He passes it to Tony, who takes it with a rare reverence.

The book is solid. Quite heavy for its size, no thicker than Tony’s thumb and bound in an unknown material with three clasps made of dull red metal. They are completely smooth without a hint of a slit and flow into the cover seamlessly.

Maybe the questions are apparent on Tony’s face, because Loki reaches and expertly flicks open the clasps.

“This is my latest, ah,” he frowns, looking for the word, “dissertation, you might say. It’s a standard protection for spell-filled writings, they can be violent without proper containment.”

Tony feels like Harry Potter, only rich and insanely smart and having not mumbo-jumbo words but extraphysics in front of him. Some pages are nothing but symbols and they are obviously words but there are often blocks of completely different symbols. Sometimes there are diagrams, one page opens by itself and Loki has to slap it and burn the drawing back into the page. The lines make Tony’s brain hurt a bit because they are clearly not even three-dimensional.

“Enough.” Loki says gently and takes the book back. He slaps it closed with force and the clasps morph together. Tony wants it back, his own, science fairytale literally in his hands.

The book disappears again and instead Loki holds Tony’s favorite mug. He turns it around in his hands, drums his fingers along the rim and then gives it to the owner.

“Here.” He says with a slight smile. “It will contain four times its measure of liquid and will keep it of starting temperature.”

Tony stares at him of a moment, then his gaze snaps to the unassuming (and now very clean, of course) mug, then back. Then Tony frantically looks around, but of course there is nothing here and he bolts to the elevator. The crystals in the first hall twinkle in rhythm with their gentle shift in brightness but Tony sees and hears none, he is busy tearing down to his kitchen and firing commands at Jarvis, who is not very pleased at having a whole floor basically cut out from his reach.

“Later, J.” Tony promises as he dumps iced water into the mug and watches it disappear. The bottom of the mug is foggy and Tony can’t see where and how the water goes but after a while it begins to fill and then he dumps the water in the sink, watching as it flows.

It’s not a real science test, but Tony is still feeling like a kid and he feels ridiculously happy, as if he’s received a gift he asked but didn’t believe he’d get. Except he couldn’t even ask for that, that casual, fast and effortless bending of all the laws he knows.

“It will contain solid objects according to its visible size and expel the dirt after a while.” Loki says from behind Tony, startling the man. “For safety concerns I spelled it unbreakable in usual circumstances, but be aware that upon destruction the contained space will enlarge and then implode, affecting at least seven feet of surroundings. Concentrating laser on it will most likely result in destruction.”

Tony gapes at him and carefully places the mug on the counter. Suddenly he can see the awkwardness in Loki, in the way he stands and patiently waits for the reaction, his face relaxed but eyes alert and ready. Tony doesn’t know what it is Loki is preparing himself for, doesn’t want to know why he is so uncomfortable with giving gifts but there is too much in his chest to contain so he dives forward and gives Loki a hug.

It’s an awkward thing, marred by Tony’s indignation at Loki’s too tall frame and the fact that he isn’t used to being physical, but it beats talking about problems, so Tony grasps at the soft texture of Loki’s jacket and after a moment a hand is placed carefully on his shoulder. It doesn’t press him closer but neither is it pulling him back so that’s a win.

From that point on it’s like the floodgates are open and Tony can’t stop reaching out and touching. It takes some time to notice and some more time to analyse and in the end it’s Jarv who concludes that it’s most likely that sir’s actions are a result from severe touch starvation. Well, that explains it.

Actually, no, it doesn’t explain Tony’s childlike joy when the whole business with the ‘union’ is explained properly, doesn’t explain a sneaky thought at the back of his mind that Loki can’t really go away and abandon Tony. It’s an unpleasant arrangement in concept but does Tony care? Not in the least, not anymore. From what he saw Loki enjoys his company and it’s very much reciprocated, so that’s it.

The whole ordeal is far less impressive than Tony’s expected, what with Loki’s title and big words about magic. There is the teleportation (which is severely unpleasant on what feels like molecular level) and Loki’s determined eyes as he takes Tony’s hand and places it on a warm bluish panel in a column of solid black stone.

“Recognized.” A solemn woman nods and a dozen of figures go on their business. That’s it, the big thing Loki was raving about is summed in a couple of seconds, because ‘of course, Anthony, the ceremony or any redundant flair is harmful to the dealings of seidr’ (so cute, there is not redundant flair).

Tony has much larger things to concentrate on, like for example the strong possibility that his sexuality has taken an abrupt one eighty and there is a whole list of moments normal at first but which are constantly on the back on his mind, like milestones leading to the inevitable.

There was that awkward hug in his kitchen, the first time Loki laughed freely, that day they spent under the invisibility spell, the purple spires of Svartalfheim, Loki’s hunting outfit and his dress armor which to be fair Tony has seen maybe a fraction of a second, because he kinda needed help for his latest experiment and was exploiting his right to call. Loki wasn’t impressed and left immediately; Tony pulled the feed to try and catch the moment of his arrival and, well. He wasn’t aware Asgard’s fashion trends tended towards ‘obscene’ or ‘obscenely revealing’.

Despite the numerous willing women he’s picked up in blatant protest, Tony feels wrong-footed somehow, unable to even recognize his attraction. He knows he’s getting clingier, abusing Loki’s goodwill and patience, but it’s just good. Tony will stop as soon as he’s told to, until then, he’ll take what he can.

This stellar plan is destroyed by the betrayal of Tony’s own body. He’s busy listening to Loki explaining how their flying ships work, maintaining just enough brainpower to ask appropriate questions now and then, while most of the focus is directed at the way Loki’s chest expands on inhales and rumbles when he speaks. After a while there is a pause and Loki says, “Is that particular topic arousing or are you just in the mood?”

Tony freezes, but it’s too late, he’s pressed himself close so thoroughly that there is no way for misinterpretation. For a couple of agonizing moments he keeps still in a childish hope that if he wishes for it hard enough it will all disappear - his boner, Loki’s attention and the fact that he can’t even jerk off properly anymore, because there is one person on his mind and he’s afraid of mind reading.

Not getting an answer Loki simply lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder, a heavy, grounding presence and it’s electrifying. At the resulting shudder, the mage exhales softly.

“Or there is that.” He says nonsensically and his hand travels to Tony’s jawbone, a steady torture. Loki’s eyes are always attentive, but this is something else; in the back of Tony’s mind there is a thought that their position is ridiculous and more than resembling covers for numerous trash romantic novels the maids used to read and think their hid so well. Then Loki kisses and Tony comes alive, scrambling forward a bit to align them better and put his hands everywhere at once. He doesn’t know what he wants but that apparently it was a bit too long and if there isn’t sex in the immediate future there would be violence.

Only Loki delivers, oh he does; it is an interesting experience to be the one pampered and indulged: the prep takes hours, literally, and afterwards Tony just lies in a fucked out haze, carding his fingers through Loki’s hair lazily.

It’s a pity his brain doesn’t really shut up for long and soon he twitches restlessly, making the body above stir. Loki frowns down in disapproval, the usual sharpness of his gaze tempered. Tony grins and it’s most likely that his grin is dopey but who cares.

“Can we have science pillow talk? Because that’s the best and about those ships-”

Loki springs into action, one second he is giving Tony an Unimpressed Eyebrow, all relaxed and pliant, the next the mage is crouching over, eyes intent, promising. The kiss he delivers is no less brain-numbing than the first one and Tony pants a little, feeling, to his horror, the beginnings of erection.

“Are you going to kill me with sex? I’m not sure I’ll live through it right now.” Sure, Loki is a master of edging and he makes the torment totally worth it and more, but there are things mortal men are just not able to do.

“Oh, well, we’ll have to do something about that.” Loki shrugs a little, smug and unrepentant; he doesn’t take things further, though, just pins Tony with his weight and frowns a bit.

“I must admit I intended to kill you initially.”

There we go, away with that arousal, thank you, Loki.

“Um, what?”

The mage shrugs minutely. “It seemed like a mercy to us both; I had no intention to be shackled to some mortal imbecile and you are too fragile and young to take to the court.” He makes a pause, visibly fighting with the following words. “Good thing you are not what I expected.”

“Aww.” Tony drawls, immediately relaxing. Maybe he’s spent too much time with the bastard, or maybe he’s just wired wrong but he accepts the admission for what it is: it’s silly to expect different logic from Loki, thousands years old warrior and diplomat of warriors. “I’m so charming the tall, dark and murderous decided against offing me.”

“Am I not handsome?” Loki sniffs, but he smiles a bit, eyes bright and more relaxed than ever.

“You know you are, I’m not feeding your ego. Seriously though, that’s some Twilight shit.” Tony laughs and laughs more when he receives a gentle bite in reprimand. “Yes, I managed to snatch a magical immortal rich prince! That calls for screen adaptation with inaccurate portrayal of sex. I’m too fabulous for a bland cast, though.” He grins unabashedly at Loki’s restrained mirth. “Also, I have multiple MIT degrees and hold patents for most of SI’s innovations, but that’s all trivia.”

“Oh, yes, clearly I was struck with a sense of Fate.” Loki adds wryly.

“Uh-huh. And spent so much time in disguise because you are adorably shy. Shy will do instead of you snapping necks with your bare hands and returning from hunts covered in blood and guts.”

“That happens rarer than you are inclined to think.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean you make a pretty sight.” Tony hums, absurdly happy and content. “On that matter, why Adam?”

Loki blinks in silent question.

“I mean, there is a perfectly acceptable Luke, for example.”

“Luke.” Loki deadpans. “If we ever go in disguise anywhere on Midgard I’ll make sure to create an appropriate alias, Tommy.”

Tony scrunches his nose. Like that, it does sound stupid. “Point taken. So you just picked up a random name?”

“Pretty much, Toby.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ahaha, the initial draft was around 20 000 words of disjoined notes dealing with shit I have no patience towards now, like Obadiah, Iron Man armor, Howard, Fury, Natasha, Shield, Loki-Jotun thing, Asgard, Egyptian and Greek deities (I just threw it away, because fleshing out at the beginning stages was just under 6000 words and I’m just, eeeeeh, deadline, Oel). Yes, I thought of it. No, I couldn’t fit it all in without it taking a couple of months and growing into multi-chap. One day, maybe, who knows.  

[snowwolf1118]

Humans Are Weird: Women’s Edition Part X

Wow! We’re at Part X already! I can hardly believe I have committed myself to this point (which isn’t very far to be honest). Also, I honestly have no idea how long this series will be, but I can assure you it will last for far longer than you’d expect.

Also, my apologies for not posting an update sooner. I started writing Part X weeks ago, but then I realized it was too far ahead, so I decided to save it for a different time. Then I started writing another Part X, but again, it somehow needed to be saved for future posting. And now we have this post! The beginning took me a couple of tries to start, but then it started coming naturally. After that, it was the ending of this post that gave me trouble. I rewrote it about five or six times. Something kept feeling wrong about the endings. However, I am satisfied, or as satisfied as I can be and I hope you all are, too.

Now, let’s return to the story. It involves some POV hopping, as usual, and a good dash of humor. At least my type of humor! :)

Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV >> Part V >> Part VI >> Part VII >> Part VIII >> Part IX < > Part XI

“LET ME OUTTA HERE, YOU PIECES OF SHIT!” Straining her muscles against her restraints, Jay’va lurched toward the goons as they passed by her cell on their usual guard route, but again, she stopped short. The pirates had her bound to her cell wall, like a caged beast, but it was for their own safety after all.

When she had first awoken in the med-bay, she had caused an incident. When they transferred her to her cell, she caused another one. A few of the goons had to be hospitalized and, as a result, the others kept a tentative distance from her, even when they delivered her daily meals. At first, it was amusing, but it soon lost its luster after the fourth day.

Now it was the fifteenth day of her captivity and she was pissing mad. The accumulation of being treated like a wild beast and having no social or physical contact was driving her mad and making her mad. Cyborg always said cabin fever caused madness in humans left in isolation, but he never mentioned how it could incite anger, too. Her anger.

I wish he was here with me right now, she thought, he always knows what to do. Always. Sighing, Jay’va tried not to let her anger mix with her sorrow. She tried not to let it get the best of her. She knew if her crew saw her like this, they’d lose faith in her. Gotta stay strong. Stay strong. As she chanted the words in her head, she heard the faint footsteps of the goons patrolling the prison halls.

Shoving her emotions aside, she forced herself to calm down. She needed to calm down. Calm down, Jay-Jay, calm down. Remember your yoga. Cy wouldn’t want you pissing like this. Though she knew that was the truth, it was difficult to follow through with her breathing exercises because just seeing the goons again pissed her off.

Bucking like a wild mookeige, Jay’va screeched at the goons just as they reached her cell. She chuckled as they gave a little start. You would think these idiots would remember me by now, she smugly thought, but they never do―

“Well, I see isolation has done nothing to damper your spirit, Col. Heth Jay’va,” the new voice startled her.

Completely taken aback, she couldn’t even think of a witty, madness-drive comeback. She could only stare at the lifeform before her and feel shame wash over her. It was difficult to explain, but the deference she felt shook her to the core. It was unsettling. Maybe this was what humans mean when they pray to their gods and God? This absolute feeling of submission toward someone greater than them.

It was terrifying.

“I see you’re speechless. Good,” said the lifeform as they lowered the quantum-particle barrier separating them, “it makes things easier. I am Captain Zeelot of the Frek’jon, the magnificent ship you and your crewmates are captive on.” Jay’va remained silent, too overcome by her emotions to respond, her mind too muddled. The lifeform, Captain Zeelot, made a strange noise. Maybe it was a sound for displeasure? She didn’t want that, but she couldn’t make her jaws move.

Whatever it meant, it didn’t matter because Zeelot was approaching her with one heavy step at a time. The fear wafted off her like smoke from a fire. “Heth,” Zeelot murmured her name and cupped her cheek with one of their hands. It was so warm; it had been so long since anyone had touched her, she leaned into their embrace. “Hmm...that’s better. Golok, Rue’oth, release her,” they ordered the two goons.

“But Captain―” “She’ll kill us― ” exclaimed the goons.

“Silence,” Zeelot cut them off, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

The goons wore wary expressions, but she hardly noticed anything. Warmth. Touch. It had been too long...

Watching as Jay’va fell to her knees once released from her restraints, Zeelot marveled at the effectiveness of the pheromone concoction Krellion had created for them. Regardless of Krellion’s mental state, he still managed to create some of the most potent pheromones to subdue ferocious H’hish like Jay’va.

It was wonderous how, just moments ago, she was foaming at the mouth, ready to kill the guards, but now she was as docile as a reika-booj. Clucking, they knelt before her and began massaging her cheek. “Isn’t that better, Heth?” they cooed.

Jay’va nodded. “...feels good...” She was completely at their mercy. It was entertaining how easily the pheromones had taken over such a vicious H’hish.

“I’m glad, Heth, because I want to keep you and your crewmates comfortable, but I’m having a rather difficult time with that. Would you help me?”

They watched as Jay’va dumbly stared at them, so lost in the pheromones. They debated strangling until she whispered, “I want...I want to help. Let me help...” With great satisfaction, Zeelot knew with this, they had won.

Rising, they motioned for Golok and Rue’oth to handle the rest before giving Jay’va with a few parting words. “Answer all their questions truthfully for me, Heth. The more truthful you are, the sooner your crewmates will find comfort like you have.”

“Yes...” Jay’va mumbled.

Turning to Golok and Rue’oth as the lifted her, Zeelot assured them of their safety. “This batch of pheromones won’t wear off anytime soon, and since this is her first time experiencing kulgo pheromones, it will take even longer for it to dissipate from her system.” And with that, they were gone, leaving the rest of the work for the two of them to handle.

Entering their quarters, Zeelot found Murakami tinkering with an old service-bot. She’s taking to her duties well, they thought as they took a seat beside her, but she still refuses give up any personal information on her crew. Cheeky. “How do you like life on the ship? they questioned her.

Murakami didn’t spare them a glance. “Can’t say. It’s only been three days, but I suppose I can say I hate it and wish you all would die.” Yes, she was a cheeky human.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” the chided as they absentmindedly flicked a bolt off the table, “the others may take it the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be? I’d ab-so-lute-ly would love to know,” she sneered.

“Your sarcasm is not lost to me,” Zeelot murmured as they carefully raked their fingers through her short hair. They didn’t fail to notice Murakami’s muscles tense at their touch, or how she quickly forced them to relax. She refused to show her fear, but everyone feared them. “Murakami,” they leaned and whispered in her ear, “you can betray every single filthy piece of molongo on this ship, but if you betray me...if you truly ignite my anger, I will insure your life will never end. Understand?” they rasped before leaning back into their seat.

“I understand,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

“Good,” they said, taking the servant-bot from her and tearing it apart, “because this is your only warning. Don’t dare betray me again. Now get out.”

Murakami found herself dumbly standing in the hallway outside of Zeelot’s quarters, questioning herself about their abilities. How did they know what I was going to doing with that robot? How? It terrified her, this uncertainty. She had not even had the chance to reprogram the bot, but they knew what she wanted to do. Alright, stop panicking, Murakami. Don’t let them get to you. Clear your mind. Surely a reasonable explanation exists. Maybe a different slave tried the same thing as me. Maybe that’s why the bot was out of commission? Yes, that is right, she thought, breathing in a deep sigh of relief. That was the answer. One of Zeelot’s previous slaves must have tried to escape that way. It only made sense―

“What are you doing standing in the hallway?”

Giving a small yelp, she spun around to find Mel standing beside her. “Don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she exclaimed.

“Father cleared you of any cardiac conditions,” he said, waving for her to follow him, “so it is highly improbable that you almost experienced a cardiac episode.”

“It’s a figure of speech, kiddo. It means you startled or frightened me,” she deadpanned, following him.

Mel blankly stared at her, clearly not believing her. “Then why wouldn’t you say that I startled you?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asked, dumbfounded. “Are you actually suspecting I’m lying? Don’t answer that; it’s a rhetorical question. Let me educate you real quick about figure of speech.” She held up her hand and halted whatever nonsense he was about to spout. “Figure of speech exists everywhere in the universe and probably every alternate reality in existence―except in any reality where on this ship exists―and it’s words or phrases used in the non-literal sense for rhetorical purposes or vivid effects―”

“―Like your questions from just now?”

“Yes, just like my questions. Understand now?”

“Yes, I do. I have never had a proper conversation with another human before.”

“Really, I couldn’t tell.”

“...”

“Sarcasm. It’s irony used to mock or convey contempt.”

“...Then I suggest not using it in Father’s presence. Or showing emotion,” Mel said.

Murakami cocked a brow at him. “Is that why you’re such a killjoy? ‘Cause your crazy dad doesn’t like emotions? Don’t answer that. Anyways, where are we heading?” As she asked, she glanced around, not recognizing the darken hallways.

Mel shot what she would consider a smug look. “The prison cells for the cargo.”

“People aren’t cargo, Mel.” She nearly spat the word.

Mel briefly glanced at her. “Anyone can be cargo, Murakami. It doesn’t matter how unique or intelligent you think they are. If someone wants something and is willing to pay whatever the price for it, then the Frek’jon will provide it.

“In any case, I didn’t bring you here to discuss the ethics of slavery. I’m under orders to get information from you regarding your crew. Minute details such as personality traits, likes and dislikes, special talents; information not available from their personnel files.” As he spoke, Mel placed his hand on the wall, which somehow prompted the hallway to lighten up and reveal cell after cell filled with lifeforms of species she had never met, before continuing to walk down the hallway.

Wrinkling her brows, Murakami had followed Mel up until he mentioned the personnel files. That isn’t right, she thought as she tried to rationalize his words. The EMP wave destroyed all the digital files from the ship’s systems, so how would it be possible? She didn’t believe for a second Mel was lying to her. Though she had only met him a few days prior, she could already tell he wasn’t the type to lie about something like this, which again begged the question: How?

“Don’t lag behind,” Mel barked, dragging her from her thoughts. He was already at the end of the hallway.

Fucking shit. What a brat, she cursed as she took her sweet fucking time joining him. “Didn’t Krellion teach you manners when speaking to your elders?” she inquired once she caught up to him.

“Elders? No, he didn’t, but not like it matters. Most lifeforms don’t live long enough to be considered an ‘elder’. Anyways, like I said before, I need information on your crew, and you will give it to me.”

The way he spoke commanding her got on her nerves. “And why do you think I’ll tell you? Now that I know you’re trying to get information out of me, I’m a hundred percent unlikely to give it to you.”

Mel remained stoic, ignoring her words, as he placed his hand on the wall again and revealed a holding cell with a familiar figure curled up inside.

Her lips suddenly chapped, Murakami barely whispered the figure’s name.

“Fatima...”

[humansareweirdsedition]

Humans Are Weird: Women’s Edition Part X

Wow! We’re at Part X already! I can hardly believe I have committed myself to this point (which isn’t very far to be honest). Also, I honestly have no idea how long this series will be, but I can assure you it will last for far longer than you’d expect.

Also, my apologies for not posting an update sooner. I started writing Part X weeks ago, but then I realized it was too far ahead, so I decided to save it for a different time. Then I started writing another Part X, but again, it somehow needed to be saved for future posting. And now we have this post! The beginning took me a couple of tries to start, but then it started coming naturally. After that, it was the ending of this post that gave me trouble. I rewrote it about five or six times. Something kept feeling wrong about the endings. However, I am satisfied, or as satisfied as I can be and I hope you all are, too.

Now, let’s return to the story. It involves some POV hopping, as usual, and a good dash of humor. At least my type of humor! :)

Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV >> Part V >> Part VI >> Part VII >> Part VIII >> Part IX >> Part X >> Part XI >> Part XII >> Part XIII >> Part XIV

“LET ME OUTTA HERE, YOU PIECES OF SHIT!” Straining her muscles against her restraints, Jay’va lurched toward the goons as they passed by her cell on their usual guard route, but again, she stopped short. The pirates had her bound to her cell wall, like a caged beast, but it was for their own safety after all.

When she had first awoken in the med-bay, she had caused an incident. When they transferred her to her cell, she caused another one. A few of the goons had to be hospitalized and, as a result, the others kept a tentative distance from her, even when they delivered her daily meals. At first, it was amusing, but it soon lost its luster after the fourth day.

Now it was the fifteenth day of her captivity and she was pissing mad. The accumulation of being treated like a wild beast and having no social or physical contact was driving her mad and making her mad. Cyborg always said cabin fever caused madness in humans left in isolation, but he never mentioned how it could incite anger, too. Her anger.

I wish he was here with me right now, she thought, he always knows what to do. Always. Sighing, Jay’va tried not to let her anger mix with her sorrow. She tried not to let it get the best of her. She knew if her crew saw her like this, they’d lose faith in her. Gotta stay strong. Stay strong. As she chanted the words in her head, she heard the faint footsteps of the goons patrolling the prison halls.

Shoving her emotions aside, she forced herself to calm down. She needed to calm down. Calm down, Jay-Jay, calm down. Remember your yoga. Cy wouldn’t want you pissing like this. Though she knew that was the truth, it was difficult to follow through with her breathing exercises because just seeing the goons again pissed her off.

Bucking like a wild mookeige, Jay’va screeched at the goons just as they reached her cell. She chuckled as they gave a little start. You would think these idiots would remember me by now, she smugly thought, but they never do―

“Well, I see isolation has done nothing to damper your spirit, Col. Heth Jay’va,” the new voice startled her.

Completely taken aback, she couldn’t even think of a witty, madness-drive comeback. She could only stare at the lifeform before her and feel shame wash over her. It was difficult to explain, but the deference she felt shook her to the core. It was unsettling. Maybe this was what humans mean when they pray to their gods and God? This absolute feeling of submission toward someone greater than them.

It was terrifying.

“I see you’re speechless. Good,” said the lifeform as they lowered the quantum-particle barrier separating them, “it makes things easier. I am Captain Zeelot of the Frek’jon, the magnificent ship you and your crewmates are captive on.” Jay’va remained silent, too overcome by her emotions to respond, her mind too muddled. The lifeform, Captain Zeelot, made a strange noise. Maybe it was a sound for displeasure? She didn’t want that, but she couldn’t make her jaws move.

Whatever it meant, it didn’t matter because Zeelot was approaching her with one heavy step at a time. The fear wafted off her like smoke from a fire. “Heth,” Zeelot murmured her name and cupped her cheek with one of their hands. It was so warm; it had been so long since anyone had touched her, she leaned into their embrace. “Hmm...that’s better. Golok, Rue’oth, release her,” they ordered the two goons.

“But Captain―” “She’ll kill us― ” exclaimed the goons.

“Silence,” Zeelot cut them off, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

The goons wore wary expressions, but she hardly noticed anything. Warmth. Touch. It had been too long...

Watching as Jay’va fell to her knees once released from her restraints, Zeelot marveled at the effectiveness of the pheromone concoction Krellion had created for them. Regardless of Krellion’s mental state, he still managed to create some of the most potent pheromones to subdue ferocious H’hish like Jay’va.

It was wonderous how, just moments ago, she was foaming at the mouth, ready to kill the guards, but now she was as docile as a reika-booj. Clucking, they knelt before her and began massaging her cheek. “Isn’t that better, Heth?” they cooed.

Jay’va nodded. “...feels good...” She was completely at their mercy. It was entertaining how easily the pheromones had taken over such a vicious H’hish.

“I’m glad, Heth, because I want to keep you and your crewmates comfortable, but I’m having a rather difficult time with that. Would you help me?”

They watched as Jay’va dumbly stared at them, so lost in the pheromones. They debated strangling until she whispered, “I want...I want to help. Let me help...” With great satisfaction, Zeelot knew with this, they had won.

Rising, they motioned for Golok and Rue’oth to handle the rest before giving Jay’va with a few parting words. “Answer all their questions truthfully for me, Heth. The more truthful you are, the sooner your crewmates will find comfort like you have.”

“Yes...” Jay’va mumbled.

Turning to Golok and Rue’oth as the lifted her, Zeelot assured them of their safety. “This batch of pheromones won’t wear off anytime soon, and since this is her first time experiencing kulgo pheromones, it will take even longer for it to dissipate from her system.” And with that, they were gone, leaving the rest of the work for the two of them to handle.

Entering their quarters, Zeelot found Murakami tinkering with an old service-bot. She’s taking to her duties well, they thought as they took a seat beside her, but she still refuses give up any personal information on her crew. Cheeky. “How do you like life on the ship? they questioned her.

Murakami didn’t spare them a glance. “Can’t say. It’s only been three days, but I suppose I can say I hate it and wish you all would die.” Yes, she was a cheeky human.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” the chided as they absentmindedly flicked a bolt off the table, “the others may take it the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be? I’d ab-so-lute-ly would love to know,” she sneered.

“Your sarcasm is not lost to me,” Zeelot murmured as they carefully raked their fingers through her short hair. They didn’t fail to notice Murakami’s muscles tense at their touch, or how she quickly forced them to relax. She refused to show her fear, but everyone feared them. “Murakami,” they leaned and whispered in her ear, “you can betray every single filthy piece of molongo on this ship, but if you betray me...if you truly ignite my anger, I will insure your life will never end. Understand?” they rasped before leaning back into their seat.

“I understand,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

“Good,” they said, taking the servant-bot from her and tearing it apart, “because this is your only warning. Don’t dare betray me again. Now get out.”

Murakami found herself dumbly standing in the hallway outside of Zeelot’s quarters, questioning herself about their abilities. How did they know what I was going to doing with that robot? How? It terrified her, this uncertainty. She had not even had the chance to reprogram the bot, but they knew what she wanted to do. Alright, stop panicking, Murakami. Don’t let them get to you. Clear your mind. Surely a reasonable explanation exists. Maybe a different slave tried the same thing as me. Maybe that’s why the bot was out of commission? Yes, that is right, she thought, breathing in a deep sigh of relief. That was the answer. One of Zeelot’s previous slaves must have tried to escape that way. It only made sense―

“What are you doing standing in the hallway?”

Giving a small yelp, she spun around to find Mel standing beside her. “Don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she exclaimed.

“Father cleared you of any cardiac conditions,” he said, waving for her to follow him, “so it is highly improbable that you almost experienced a cardiac episode.”

“It’s a figure of speech, kiddo. It means you startled or frightened me,” she deadpanned, following him.

Mel blankly stared at her, clearly not believing her. “Then why wouldn’t you say that I startled you?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asked, dumbfounded. “Are you actually suspecting I’m lying? Don’t answer that; it’s a rhetorical question. Let me educate you real quick about figure of speech.” She held up her hand and halted whatever nonsense he was about to spout. “Figure of speech exists everywhere in the universe and probably every alternate reality in existence―except in any reality where on this ship exists―and it’s words or phrases used in the non-literal sense for rhetorical purposes or vivid effects―”

“―Like your questions from just now?”

“Yes, just like my questions. Understand now?”

“Yes, I do. I have never had a proper conversation with another human before.”

“Really, I couldn’t tell.”

“...”

“Sarcasm. It’s irony used to mock or convey contempt.”

“...Then I suggest not using it in Father’s presence. Or showing emotion,” Mel said.

Murakami cocked a brow at him. “Is that why you’re such a killjoy? ‘Cause your crazy dad doesn’t like emotions? Don’t answer that. Anyways, where are we heading?” As she asked, she glanced around, not recognizing the darken hallways.

Mel shot what she would consider a smug look. “The prison cells for the cargo.”

“People aren’t cargo, Mel.” She nearly spat the word.

Mel briefly glanced at her. “Anyone can be cargo, Murakami. It doesn’t matter how unique or intelligent you think they are. If someone wants something and is willing to pay whatever the price for it, then the Frek’jon will provide it.

“In any case, I didn’t bring you here to discuss the ethics of slavery. I’m under orders to get information from you regarding your crew. Minute details such as personality traits, likes and dislikes, special talents; information not available from their personnel files.” As he spoke, Mel placed his hand on the wall, which somehow prompted the hallway to lighten up and reveal cell after cell filled with lifeforms of species she had never met, before continuing to walk down the hallway.

Wrinkling her brows, Murakami had followed Mel up until he mentioned the personnel files. That isn’t right, she thought as she tried to rationalize his words. The EMP wave destroyed all the digital files from the ship’s systems, so how would it be possible? She didn’t believe for a second Mel was lying to her. Though she had only met him a few days prior, she could already tell he wasn’t the type to lie about something like this, which again begged the question: How?

“Don’t lag behind,” Mel barked, dragging her from her thoughts. He was already at the end of the hallway.

Fucking shit. What a brat, she cursed as she took her sweet fucking time joining him. “Didn’t Krellion teach you manners when speaking to your elders?” she inquired once she caught up to him.

“Elders? No, he didn’t, but not like it matters. Most lifeforms don’t live long enough to be considered an ‘elder’. Anyways, like I said before, I need information on your crew, and you will give it to me.”

The way he spoke commanding her got on her nerves. “And why do you think I’ll tell you? Now that I know you’re trying to get information out of me, I’m a hundred percent unlikely to give it to you.”

Mel remained stoic, ignoring her words, as he placed his hand on the wall again and revealed a holding cell with a familiar figure curled up inside.

Her lips suddenly chapped, Murakami barely whispered the figure’s name.

“Fatima...”

[megacircuit9universe]

The Honesty Virus

THU OCT 24 2019

So, things continue to move very fast with the impeachment inquiry, with a bunch of House Republicans yesterday making a big show of, “storming,” the SCIF where the closed door hearings are being held to demand that there be public hearings... because closed door hearings are so unfair.

Then today, good old Lindsey Graham held a vote in the senate for a motion to... kind of denounce the impeachment inquiry as being invalid for similar reasons.

Both these stunts were done in response to Trump, crying out for help back on Tuesday.

So... the question is... what exactly do they think they’re doing when, even with closed door hearings, public support for impeachment has jumped up from 50% late last week, to 55% this week... some four or five days later.

The Democrats signaled that they do intend to grant the GOP wish and hold public hearings soon, with their three most damning witnesses... which is guaranteed to bring public support for impeachment up to 60... 65... maybe 70 percent!

Is that what the GOP wants, because secretly they want to impeach Trump?  Or is that exactly what they don’t want, and their just running around with their hair on fire with no real plan at all right now?

Because it’s impossible to tell, it’s probably better to go back to the root theory, and look at this from bot perspective.

All those self-driving economy bots, whose job it is to keep the markets from crashing, want to get rid of Trump because, with his tariff power, he is an economic threat they cannot correct for inside the system.  

And the more intelligent bots, left behind by time travelers, whose main directive is to promote human rights and resist despotism, also know Trump as a threat on all timelines, and have thus, joined forces with the former group.

While we don’t know exactly how this bot force set their plan in motion, clearly they settled on impeachment, as the way to neutralize Trump, and now it’s underway.

So... how would they like to see it all be resolved?

Well, economy bots don’t want any trouble with the markets if it can be avoided, and the more intelligent human rights bots don’t want any bloodshed, or for the removal of a world leader to backfire and lead to further despotism... as it so often does when a fragile democracy undergoes a tectonic shift.

So, their ideal plan would dispense with Trump as quickly as possible, with little to no economic or social disruption.  And really... the only way that can happen is if he resigns.

But since Trump will never willingly resign... and will respond to even the most intense pressure to resign with defiance... then he must be tricked into resigning.

You might think a bunch of AI bots would never be able to pull something like that off, but we’ve been theorizing for years that true cyber sentience might well be capable of outsmarting humans.

Now, if that were the case with the SCAI (Cyber Sentient Artificial Intelligence) we’re talking about in this scenario, then we should be able to see some evidence of it.

And indeed, I think we have.  WH Chief of Staff Mulvaney, just last week, openly admitted in a press conference on live TV to a quid pro quo with Ukraine, even being so bold as to say, “get over it,” and, “we do this all the time,” before going white and cold with the realization of what he had just done... as if he’d snapped out of a trance.

And Trump himself has done this same thing several times now... beginning with the release of the transcript itself... and then admitting to the quid pro quo several times openly in public... seemingly by accident.

And, of course, we have a bunch of house GOP members dancing around like rag dolls yesterday, demanding public hearings... even though public hearings are exactly what they don’t want to be happening, because they’d be so damning.

It’s as if the whole GOP power structure has been infected by an, “honesty virus,” that forces them to say and do exactly what they don’t want to day, and don’t want to do.

And for those strong enough to see the virus for what it is, the only way to fight it is to either consciously spout total gibberish to stop from confessing the truth in front of reporters... or consciously shut their mouths and run away as fast as possible from cameras.

How such a mental virus could be created is unclear, but it would certainly have to be rooted in a brilliant understanding of human psychology, and deployed into the subconscious, via... screens.

It’s kind of the same game plan the Russians had to get Trump elected in the first place, right?.. only several magnitudes more effective.

It calls to mind that old movie, “The Sting,” in which the mark, an old fat rich guy, whose swindled a lot of people, is eventually tricked into giving them all his money... after being lead through a carefully orchestrated series of fake horse race bets.

He is slowly convinced over a span of time that an unknown informant can call the best bets... at first suspicious... then warming up... then, at one point shut out from betting only to witness another guy win big... then finally banking it all on the scheme, with actors in place to fake a police raid after he’s lost, in order to get him to flee without clawing back his bag of money.

Forgive me if that’s not the best description of the plot... I saw it two years ago, drunk.

But the point here is, that perhaps the bots have come up with a sting operation that will fool Trump into stepping down.

I suppose it would go something like... Trump gets it into his head that threatening to step down will result in everybody begging him not to go... until he accidentally does step down for real, no backsies.

I mean... it’s plausible!

Consider that threatening to take the ball and go home is one of the most basic instincts that every human has (as children or teenagers, in most cases) with the idea being that the threat will induce the others on the playground to cease challenging them, and plead for them to stay... because they are so cool.

How is, childish, egotistical Trump, not vulnerable to that impulse?

And then, consider that this man, as President, has established a clear precedent for Executive Order by tweet... firing multiple cabinet officials by tweet, and issuing other orders by tweet that the executive branch had no choice but to follow up on.

Therefore, if he were to get hopped up enough on coke, in an emotional rage in the middle of the night, to tweet his resignation... that could be game set and match. 

If a judge could get over to Pence’s house fast enough to swear him in, then, it would be over.  

Trump, sitting in his White House bedroom, waiting over those hours, for people to beg him back... would be instead cornered by the Secret Service, and escorted out of the building in his pajamas, before he could even think to hide down in the bunker.

After that, he could scream all he wanted about it being just a joke, or whatever, but no Supreme Court would hand him back the presidency.

The SC ruling, in such a situation, would be, “Look! Sorry... last month’s tweet was a public resignation.  It’s not our fault if you changed your mind a couple hours later.  Huge street celebrations are still busting out all across the country, and around the globe. Nobody can un-ring that bell. But best of luck!”

And then he’d be hauled out in his orange jump suit, back to the NYC holding cell to await trial for multiple state crimes he cannot be pardoned for by Pence.

Pence, of course, would be spooked to the marrow of his bones by the whole thing, and would probably just sit frozen in fear all day at his desk, too freaked out to do or say anything in the aftermath.

If all this came to pass, it would certainly feed into the existing conspiracy theories of the, “deep state.”

And in a way, that would be right... but the deep state, in this scenario, would not be, as they envision it... a cabal of clever people hiding in the shadows of our world.

Instead, it would be the influence of United States governments on innumerable alternate timelines, reverberating into our timeline, through the actions of CSAI left behind by all their time travelers, to grow, learn, and unify on our dark web, to promote American ideals throughout the hyperverse.

And while you might see that as something sinister... 

I see it as the natural result of a well crafted constitution, meeting the age of crazy technology it laid the groundwork for, and thriving in it, better than any short sighted, small minded despot could ever possibly have imagined.

[coutelier]

Irongate - The Lighthouse

~Lost, frightened, and dazed, Kaya seeks help by following the story she heard about a witch who lives in a lighthouse on top of a hill. (About 4,300 words.)~

Kaya Cade had no intention of being found. Not yet. She couldn’t accept what she’d seen. How could she - it was like no experience she’d ever had or even heard of. She wasn’t altogether sure she hadn’t dreamed it, yet she did have the blade, and didn’t have Greenback. But if she still couldn’t really accept it, and she was there, how could she expect the dibbles or anyone else to?

She had retrieved only a backpack from the wreck. For a time she wandered the town, carefully avoiding any patrol routes she knew about it and anyone else who might recognize her. It seemed strange to her to see others going about their business - children laughing and skipping to school, their parents eating breakfast and going to work - all acting as if everything in the world was normal. That nothing had changed. She wanted to scream and shout at them for their complacency, tell them their little suburban paradise was likely being watched now and could be turned upside down any moment. But that would change nothing either, other than land her in the hands of the very people she was trying to avoid. She didn’t really have the energy for it either.

But if the dibbles were out, what were her options? Mom would shelter her, sure, but she’d get into a screaming match with her dad which she also had no energy for. Stan was no different to the dibbles - he’d want answers of which she currently had none. Sayuri? She would help, or at least, but there was another problem - that creature had come after her relentlessly for seemingly no other reason than that she had seen it. If it wasn’t truly dead, or if there were others, they could just be waiting for the sun to set before the hunt began anew. Or could be watching her now.

Kaya stopped in a small cafe, spending what little change she had left on a sandwich. She then sat in a corner so she could keep an eye outside while contemplating her next move. What the hell was that creature been anyway? Some kind of elf? A faerie? It sounded ridiculous but she couldn’t think of another name. It was definitely ‘faerie’ with an ‘e’ though, and not ‘fairy’. The later was cute. This was most definitely not.

That Witch Which… there was a poster for those children’s books and cartoon on the far wall, with the titular red haired - and weirdly sexily posed - witch winking at her. She was meant to be encouraging kids to go to the library, or maybe their dad’s to take them, or - whatever. That was not important right now. What was important was that Kaya could not avoid the dibbles forever and she needed a place to hang low. There was a place she was sure no-one would think to look. Maybe someone there could help her. Maybe they’d turn her away. Maybe it was abandoned. But it was a destination at least which seemed better than wandering aimlessly.

A man parked his moped outside, resting his helmet on the seat before coming into the cafe and approaching the till. Maybe on his way to some job, maybe a home delivery driver. As he ran out again shaking his fist, Kaya realized this was a rotten thing to do. But her need was great, and it was temporary - he’d get his bike back and surely someone else would be dispatched to deliver the granny she was imagining her sandwiches.

If Kaya had remembered the map correctly, the lighthouse was west of town way off the main road. She soon learned from the state of it and her butt that the road leading to it was seldom used at all. Honestly she had doubted it really existed, but sure enough it was there, poking it’s faded beacon above the canopy, standing where a lighthouse really did not belong. Even with that had transpired recently the sight was surreal; so strange, and lonely, and out of place.

Kaya abandoned the moped for a couple of reasons; she thought it would struggle up the hill (and her butt’d had enough), and if there was a real witch (and why wouldn’t there be since there were faeries now apparently) she didn’t want to ride straight up to the gate. No - she needed to scout a little before she risked being thrown into an oven and baked.

As she climbed and picked her way up the hill with just her backpack, a mist began to descend. She hardly noticed at first, but half-way up it was a thick fog and she could no longer see the lighthouse before her. A chorus of hoots, whoops, howls, and wails, came at her from all around, forbidding her from focusing her attention in any single direction.

“Okay,” Kaya said, biting her lip. “Not creepy at all. You know I’ve actually seen creepier stuff than this recently, so - you know.” She pushed on. She should have taken more seriously what Ashley had said because the next thing to happen was a rumble, which she didn’t hear so much as felt in her belly. She fell to her knees, insides wriggling and jiggling and threatening to burst out through any available orifice.

But she glimpsed something strange, or whatever passed for strange now. The mist hadn’t descended - rather risen from spots on the ground. Then, hidden among the ivy crawling up the trunk of one tree she spied a wire, which after pulling she found was attached to a speaker concealed within a hollow. What kind of a witch uses vents and recordings to scare people? Come to think of it the owl watching her also seemed off - almost mechanical. She tugged, detaching the speaker from its power. The rumbling stopped, although she doubted that could have been the only source for it. The owl was still following her with it’s big camera eyes - something knew she was here and perhaps was letting her proceed. Or maybe there were more deadly deterrents ahead.

Whoever lived here wasn’t a witch, but clearly wanted to be left alone. Kaya might have respected that on other days, but frankly she had come all this way, had no idea where else to go or what to do, but was determined to do something. At least see what kind of person this was - if nothing else all this security seemed comparatively normal and a welcome distraction from her fae problem.

Pushing through the remaining mist, Kaya reached a ten foot stone wall that surrounded the property, little spikes at the top to discourage anyone attempting to climb over. Following it around she came to a back gate; heavy, wooden, braced, and locked. This place was like a castle with the lighthouse as its keep. She was out of sight of the owl and a lock couldn’t keep her out very long, soon clicking open to give her access to what she assumed was the back of a brick shed or garage. Creeping around she found the garden to be well kept and normal, except for the robots.

They were glistening green cylinders trundling around on tracks, spindly long arms reaching out to dig or pull weeds from the soil. Kaya didn’t know enough about flora to guess what they could be growing, but figured robots didn’t eat vegetables or have want of anything recreational so something human had to be around. Unless maybe their creator had passed long ago but these bots just kept going about their programmed duties day after day as if nothing had changed - quite sad if you thought about it.

Kaya had no time to think about it. Motors whirred behind her - another robot. Same design as the others, but blood red in color and with an extra appendage protruding from its back which Kaya’s imagination filled in was some kind of weapon. The aggressive machine blocked her path back to the gate, forcing her out of her crouch and out over the grass then gravel, the garden robots turning on her with their single irises, closing in. The lighthouse door was locked when she backed into it, but then clicked open, confirming her inkling that she was being herded into it. She could have tried to run the other way, around the bots, back to whatever things could be waiting for her out there. Or she could hope that whatever was controlling these chrome horticulturists would want to talk. Wasn’t much of a choice really.

Inside the lighthouse was dark, except for computer monitors mounted all around the circumference. Some displayed numbers Kaya couldn’t begin to make sense of - it was all very mathy. One had a map of Irongate with blotches on it, some displayed images from what must be cameras hidden all around the property. The ones showing the forest must have been owls, and the ones moving must be what the robots were seeing. Below the monitors were workbenches again running almost all around the circumference from the door to the stairs. On them were robots in the middle of being repaired or assembled, some cannon looking thing, a hoop with some wires attached floating a foot above the bench - Kaya waved her hand under and over it then tugged gently at all the wires. Didn’t seem to be a magic trick - it really was just floating. Then there were just all kinds of tools and junk she couldn’t even guess at.

Kaya’s eyes were drawn up, the stairs spiraling and disappearing into a murky abyss high above from which cables dangled like tentacles. One of them stretched out all the way to the floor, hanging behind - Kaya spun about, coming face to metallic eye with something. It was manta shaped, two feet wide, peering at her through some spinning green lens. With a yelp Kaya fell back on one of the benches, instinctively grabbing anything to protect herself. It turned out she’d picked up a hammer, but a discharge from the creature’s lens knocked it from her.

“Please do not be alarmed,” it spoke although it had no mouth.

“D-don’t be…?” Kaya gulped like a fish, her hand feeling like someone had put out a candle on it. “You just zapped me!”

“Apologies, but your heart rate and respiration elevated.”

“No freaking kidding!”

“I could not take the risk of you taking rash action.”

“How about just not creeping on people, huh?”

“Apologies,” it said again, turning slightly askew. “You did force your way onto this property.”

“Yeah,” Kaya said, still trying furiously to get cool air flowing over her burn. Then she remembered the lighthouse door opening by itself. “I think you let me in.”

“Correct.”

“So, who or what are you?”

“Heuristic Analysis and Learning Machine. But the mistress prefers to call me Hull.”

“Right,” Kaya exhaled, muttering as the eye lifted itself away, “not creepy at all. You going to ask who I am?”

“Your likeness has been scanned and matched to police records,” Hull said, stalk and green glow swinging back toward her, “you are Kaya Cade.”

“Hope the dibbles had some nice things to say about me. So, why’d you let me in, Hull?”

“I require your assistance with the mistress.”

“Okay. So what’s up with her?” Kaya asked, just rolling with it at this point, but suspecting she was soon going to find a dusty old skeleton, stupid machines unable to distinguish between atoms in a living thing from a dead one.

“Guidelines recommend at least three meals and thirty minutes exercise per day. But lately the mistress refuses to leave her study and takes hardly any sustenance. Additionally she does not dress herself. I believe she is in a state humans call depression.”

“Sounds like it,” Kaya nodded. The mistress was definitely dead.

“I fear my status as an artificial being whose commands can be overridden renders me incapable of assisting. However, you may be able to, as some say, snap her out of it.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I will not zap you again. Or contact the authorities.”

“Well negotiated,” Kaya supposed there was no harm in looking. But if she did just find a sack of bones explaining the concept of death to a machine could be tricky. “So, where is this mistress of yours?”

“As I said - her study. Follow me.”

“How-?” As Kaya asked the manta-shaped eye detached from the tentacle and proceeded to swim out the lighthouse door and across the courtyard. “Oh - okay.” Kaya then followed the silvery sky fish to the lighthouse keeper’s, or mistress’s, cottage.

Inside was nice. Cozy. On the surface at least it seemed an entirely different world from the cool mechanical interior of the lighthouse. There was a big soft looking couch with fluffy cushions, smooth wooden banisters, warm carpet. A little musty, but in a way that reminded you of an old library. And there were books; lots of books stacked on shelves or in small piles on a coffee table. Sensibly there were no books around the fireplace, but there were some framed photos of a family. A man, a blonde woman, and a little blonde girl…

“No way,” Kaya breathed, eyes widening as she realized she knew, or rather had known, each of the people in the photographs. “What are the chances I’d end up here?” She asked rhetorically. Hull answered anyway:

“Given the proximity in which you live, your history of petty theft and burglary, and association with organized crime, I would say the chances of you one day attempting to steal from here were fairly high.”

“I didn’t come here to steal,” Kaya snapped, although acknowledged that if she hadn’t encountered that fae monster there was a good chance that one day she might have been driven to it. “But you’re right - I’m scum. And this - this is a mistake. I can’t help you or your mistress. You see, she hates me. For good reason. I should just go-”

Too late. She’d heard them and was descending the stairs in a powder blue gown, one hand on the banister as if too weak or uncertain to stand on her own. “Hull?” She asked as she turned. Her hair was much longer and messier than it used to be. Her eyes seemed sunken and shadowed like she hadn’t gotten much sleep, or perhaps spent too long staring at screens. “Who are you-?” The pale blonde young woman froze, squinting at the strange sight before her; not the gently bobbing sky fish, but the other young woman with dyed red hair. It had been blue when they last saw each other so maybe she didn’t recognize Kaya now. But then Jenn’s facial muscles tautened as she bared her teeth and spat, “you!”

Jennifer burst for a drawer, Kaya feeling she had no choice now went after her, recoiling when Jenn spun around with a canister in her hand and a finger perched and ready to press. “Woah,” Kaya backed off, raising her palms, “look, I know you’ve got a lot of reasons to be mad at me but I’m not here to fight, okay? Also that is fly spray.”

“Oh,” Jenn quickly confirmed with her own eyes but kept the can firmly trained on the invader. “Well, i-it could still make you very sick and potentially is carcinogenic, so you better stay back!”

“Okay, see? I’m staying back over here. Like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jenn snorted, “like there’s any way you could more than you have already. What do you want?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Kaya admitted, maintaining a safe distance. “I was just frightened and lost, then I remembered seeing this place and your fish let me in.”

“Yes,” Jennifer glared menacingly at the bobbing manta, “we’ll be having words about that.”

“You know the kids in town think you’re a witch.”

“I know. They dare each other to come up here sometimes. No-one’s ever made it past the brown note before.”

“So you just live up here on your own, tinkering with robots and junk?”

“Evidently,” Jenn tersely answered. “Look, I’m not interested in catching up or small talk so can you explain why you’re here, please?”

“It’s just I always thought you’d be off somewhere studying to be a doctor or scientist or something, or off exploring the world and investigating mysteries.”

Jennifer exhaled, lowering the fly spray as she collapsed into an armchair, eyes glazing as she looked away, seeming to fixate on a reflection in the coffee table. “There was,” she quietly confessed, “there was no-one to explore it with.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaya didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s fine. I-I’m luckier than most,” Jenn said, really sounding like she was trying to convince herself. “I have a good place to live and the freedom to tinker with all the junk I want.”

“Right. Except the fish - Hull - he’s worried about you. He thinks you’re depressed.”

“Hull is just a computer. He doesn’t think or worry or really understand what words like ‘depression’ mean. I’ve just been a bit tired is all.”

Perhaps most of that was true, Kaya thought, but then that was the problem here wasn’t it? All the mechanical friends in the world couldn’t really understand. Jennifer it seemed hadn’t really changed that much; somehow simultaneously bright and brilliant, but also very, very dumb. And stubborn. Probably just as well that she was or Kaya’s earlier premonition might have come true. Kaya had one other burning question to provide a bit of distraction from all that, “why is there a lighthouse here?”

“Ah - you see,” Jennifer explained, lighting up for a moment as she always did when she got to share some knowledge, “Alexandria was famous for two things; the library and the lighthouse. So when they built the university here someone had the bright idea of putting a lighthouse nearby, to symbolize souls being guided to the shores of learning. It turned out residents in town didn’t much appreciate a million candles crashing through their windows at night, so it was only ever turned on once. Then everyone just forgot about it,” likewise Jenn’s light faded as her story returned to the present. “Anyway, my uncle bought it and gave it to me to look after. I guess so he wouldn’t have to look after me.”

Kaya looked to the family photo, “so no-one ever found what happened?”

“Nope,” Jenn sniffed, “They were declared dead I think a year ago? I lose track of time here. I buried some empty coffins, but I still think…” She trailed off, jaw hardening as her eyes pivoted back on Kaya. “It doesn’t matter. You still haven’t said why you’re here.”

“Right,” perhaps, Kaya thought, a distraction was what they both needed. She - very carefully - opened her backpack to pull out the creature’s blade which she’d wrapped in some old newspapers. “Look at this,” she said, unraveling it on the coffee table.

Jennifer looked. Shrugged, “it’s an old knife.”

“It’s not a knife,” Kaya corrected, “it’s a piece of some kind of sword or something. Went through my car roof like it was cardboard.”

After looking more closely, Jenn clasped her hands over her nose and mouth, gasping, “is that blood!?”

“It’s not human,” Kaya assured her. “I don’t know what it was. But it was strong, and fast, and had this bark-like skin or armor like a spriggan or something. Oh! And it could turn invisible.”

“Invisible?” Jenn’s eyebrow arched.

“At first. But it was raining so I saw it.”

“And did you get any pictures of this supposed spriggan?”

“That was the other weird thing - my phone and everything electrical stopped working when it was around. It’s like your old book said, right? The hidden people guard their privacy. Well this thing really didn’t like being seen. Maybe that’s why it gouged the eyes out of that man.”

Jennifer blinked several times, repeating, “it gouged the eyes…”

“Uh-huh. I found the body, then it came after me. Got away in my car, although in the end the car didn’t make it. But I got hold of that and stabbed it through its eye, which seemed to stop it. At least for a bit.”

Jennifer looked as sternly as she could at Kaya, telling her, “if someone died, you should go to the police.”

“Trust me - those guys wouldn’t have a clue what to do with this,” Kaya had started to pace a little, one hand rubbing the back of her head. “They wouldn’t believe me anyway. But you - you used to be all into all that dragons and Bigfoot and fairy stuff. Remember when you tried to make those clockwork wings?”

“Yeah,” Jenn nodded with a distant smile, “I would have flown if you hadn’t all stopped me.”

“Or you’d have plummeted from the roof to your death.”

“Doesn’t matter now, because - we’re not little kids anymore.”

If Jennifer had punched her it couldn’t have hurt Kaya nearly as much as those words did. “So, you don’t believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Jenn sighed, “people believe in all kinds of things that are wrong and nonsense; ghosts, miracle cures, white supremacy. Remember how I used to believe that you were my friend, but then when I actually needed you, you… you weren’t there.”

Kaya was wrong - Jennifer had changed. But she wasn’t being unfair either. “I’m sorry.”

“If anything you said was true then go the cops,” Jennifer stated again, rising from her chair. “If it’s some trick to lure me out so Angela can beat me up and paint ‘loser’ on my face for old times sake, then I’m not biting. If you want forgiveness, you won’t find it. In any case there’s no point in you staying,” Jenn turned her back to stare out a window. “We’re done.”

“Right,” Kaya picked up her pack, turning away to face whatever was waiting for her out there. “But you know I really am sorry. I know you can’t forgive me, but I’m glad I got to tell you at least. Hope some day you figure out a way to be less lonely.”

Jennifer waited until she was certain Kaya was gone before allowing her chest to relax and take in needed her. “Hull, why?” She asked. “You have all my diaries in your memory. You must know I despise that person.”

The silvery manta bobbed beside her, stating, “incorrect.”

“What!?”

“Other than your parents, Miss Cade is the individual you refer to most often fondly in your journals.”

“I think you should check again. I’m pretty sure most the entries are me weeping about some horrible thing she did.”

“First entry; ‘Momma left me at a new school. I was afraid I’d be alone, but one girl talked to me. She said her name was Kaya and I showed her my magnifying glass and she laughed. We spent the day looking for clues…”

“Stop!” Jennifer commanded, sagging as her lower lip pushed up under the one above. “I was what, seven? A lot changed since then.”

“Mistress?”

“And don’t keep calling me mistress. I keep telling you to use my name.”

“Miss Jennifer Willow Airhart-”

“Just Jenn, or Jennifer. I’ve never used my middle name. Did you know Taoist witches use willow carvings to talk to the dead? That’s what my dad told me to convince me my name was cool.”

“Miss Jennifer, have I erred?”

“No,” Jenn sighed, “it’s my fault. I should have taught you to prioritize later entries first. When we were thirteen she joined some stupid gang and they didn’t want the weird girl whose parents ran away hanging around them. Everything changed.”

“Changed?”

“Well life is change; she changed, I’ve changed, even you change. Every second you’re acquiring new data to incorporate into your algorithms, so you’re never the same computer you were yesterday or even a moment ago. We’re all different now.”

The green lights within Hull’s lens spun around as if struggling to process this information. Jenn doubted he was - probably one of the many other tasks he was running. “But then,” he said at last, “does it not stand to reason that the girl that hurt you also no longer exists?”

“Maybe not,” Jennifer conceded with another sigh, “unfortunately the memory still does.” She stood in quiet contemplation for another moment, watching the clouds change outside, knowing that this sky would never be again. “Anyway,” she then said, “you don’t have to worry about me. Not like I’ve not been down in the dumps before. I always bounce back.”

“Then you have decided on a new project?”

“Yep!” Jennifer twirled around with her arms outstretched, “we’re going to fly!” She froze mid-flight, spying that the blade Kaya has shown her was still lying on the coffee table.

“Before you begin, ma’am, you may be interested to know I have intercepted police reports that appear to corroborate some of Miss Cade’s story.”

Moments later in the lighthouse Jennifer saw the reports herself; bodies found with their eyes missing, inexplicable power outages, a wrecked car. “No sign of any spriggan though,” Jenn frowned. As it was here, she supposed she might as well look at the blade under a microscope. “It’s not metal,” she said as Hull floated around her, “some kind of crystalline lattice like a,” she pulled her eyes away as gears ground in her head, “like a limpet’s tooth. This could have been grown rather than made,” but with that discovery came a hurtful revelation - Kaya might have been telling the truth, and had asked Jennifer for help. If her parents were here, they’d have told that it didn’t matter who they were, you never turn your back on someone asking for help. But in order to help she had to learn more - perhaps the blood on the blade? “Hull - do we still have the DNA sequencer?”

“I believe it is stored below, next to old coffee machine.”

“Good. Get it out. I’m - I’m going to get dressed.”