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moonlitceleste · 3 years

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No Time to Die (Villain!Mari)

A/N: This is a songfic based on No Time to Die by Billie Eilish. I literally listened to this every day of the month and another six hours on repeat while writing this. It’s a miracle I’m not sick of it yet, but it’s a very timeless song. I seriously recommend listening to it to set the mood!

I should've known I'd leave alone Just goes to show That the blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

Marinette hadn’t meant to become a villain. Some might consider her an antihero, but her methods were much too ruthless for that. She wasn’t always like this—wasn’t always vicious and cruel. But her life was a tragedy, and there was no hope of ever making it out unsullied. She had seen too much, gone through too much for someone her age. All life ever did was take, take, take, and screw her over time and time again.

There was once a time where things were simpler, when she would have preached justice and righteousness above all. Those times were long gone.

It was her own sense of selflessness that led to her downfall. Marinette was once thought too pure to be corrupted, but power could corrupt anyone. Not even she could contest against the forces of the universe.

Perhaps what transpired had only unleashed something that was in her all along—a dark side she could no longer control. A thirst for justice, more merciless and ruthless than anything she had felt before. But it was the price she had to pay in order to keep balance within the world. When it was time to do what had to be done, the darkness inside her took over. It made her a villain.

Maybe what she just found out was inevitable, then. Marinette knew she shouldn’t have let her guard down, but a naïve part told her maybe things would be different. Maybe he would be different. She guessed she was wrong about that.

She wanted to feel anger at the injustice, at the fact that someone she once trusted had deceived her yet again—and she did. But it was overshadowed by agony, because maybe she deserved it. Maybe this was karma for all the blood she had spilled. The universe must maintain balance, after all.

Marinette gave one last lingering glance at the picture in her hands before placing it in her purse.

She left the apartment alone.

We were a pair But I saw you there Too much to bear You were my life But life is far away from fair

“Tim!”

Marinette shrieked as the black-haired boy chased her around her apartment, weaving around the moving boxes she had never bothered to throw out. Her eyes flitted around, trying to decide the best course of action. There! She swerved right, hoping to throw him off, but she had taken too long to decide.

The air left her lungs as a body tackled her. “Oof!” she exclaimed, unprepared for the force. Gravity took over and her body fell forward, but a pair of arms caught her from behind. Tim set her upright before wrapping his arms around her waist like a hug, trapping her body against his.

“Give me the phone.”

She panted, trying to catch her breath before responding. Her chest heaved from running for so long. Normally she would have been able to hold out for longer, but the business she attended to the day before was especially taxing.

“No,” Marinette said, laughing breathlessly.

She resisted the urge to turn around and look at him, which would have been difficult anyways considering their height difference.

“I guess I’ll just have to take it from you then.”

She had a grand total of one second to register his words before he attacked. His fingers jabbed at her sides, prompting shrieks and laughter.

“St-stop it,” she gasped.

Tim smirked, an expression that wasn’t common on his face but beautiful nonetheless.

“Not until you surrender.”

His tickle assault continued for as long as Marinette could hold out (which wasn’t long).

“I yield!” she squawked, wanting the sensation to end as soon as possible.

“Do you?” he asked.

Marinette’s breath hitched as she suddenly realized how close he was.

His dark hair brushed her forehead, and she could count every lash framing his steel blue eyes. His normally porcelain skin was tinted a rosy hue, cheeks flushed from exhaustion. Or maybe from their proximity.

She knew they weren’t just friends—she wasn’t stupid, and neither was he. But they were both content with their relationship, and neither bothered to do anything about it.

Except that now, in the moment, Marinette wanted more. Apparently Tim agreed, with the way he was looking at her. There was a hungry glint in his eyes, which flickered down to her lips before gazing at her once more. A beat was all they needed to come to a silent agreement.

Marinette closed her eyes, tilting her head upwards from her position on the floor. Warm breath fanned across her face moments before soft lips brushed against hers. She melted into the kiss, feeling his heartbeat thud against her chest, smelling his cologne mixed with sweat. It was languid and sweet, and Marinette smiled against his lips. It just felt right.

The kiss ended abruptly, however, as Tim pulled away. She frowned in confusion and sat up, ready to ask what was wrong before catching sight of the phone in his hand.

“You cheater!” Marinette gasped. She straightened and lunged for her phone, but he simply held it out of reach before clicking the “delete” button.

“Gotcha,” he replied smugly.

“Hey,” Marinette pouted. “I liked that picture.”

The photo was one she had taken of Tim while he was unaware, which led to him chasing her around in an effort to get her to delete it.

“You owe me another one.”

He simply sighed and motioned her to come closer, taking his phone out at the same time. Marinette smoothed her hair out as he wrapped an arm around the back of her neck. She smiled at the camera before noticing Tim’s neutral expression.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Smile!”

He gave an awkward grimace, and Marinette poked him in the side until he rolled his eyes and gave a real smile to the camera.

After the selfie was snapped, they both looked at the results. Tim seemed surprised at the outcome, and Marinette had to admit they looked good together. Their previous tussle was obvious from their flushed faces, but it made the picture all the more charming. For a stressed young CEO and a secret villain, they looked happy.

She felt a gaze burning into her and turned to see Tim looking at her with an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.

“What?” she asked, confused.

His face morphed as a devious glint appeared in his eyes. Faster than a snake, he darted forward and placed a kiss onto the tip of her nose.

Marinette gaped like a fish, caught off-guard. She barely registered the flash of a camera; when she did, however, she snapped to attention.

“Hey! Gimme that!” she said indignantly.

Tim started to run, phone in hand, and Marinette followed, giggling at the boy’s antics all the way.

Giggled. It wasn’t something she thought she’d ever do again, but things changed after she met Tim Drake. She changed. After she met him, it was easier to control the darkness that took over her soul. It made her a little more human.

Moments of safety and happiness were always fleeting for her—even more so after the incident. But with Tim, things were different. Marinette felt normal around him. She felt loved. But little did she know those moments would soon come to an end.

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else

Love hurts. That was something Marinette knew better than anything, because she had always been the type to give her love away without receiving any in return—but that didn’t stop her from continuing to do it.

She was the problem. That’s what she’d been told all her life. Even when she was right, she was wrong. Especially when she was right. Anything that went south was her fault, because Marinette had to be perfect even though all she did was mess up.

Maybe the fact that everything in her life went wrong was a sign that she just wasn’t meant to be happy. She would never be good enough.

That was always obvious to everyone else.

That I'd fallen for a lie? You were never on my side Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

It was an accident.

Marinette had been scoping out her next target when she realized she had left something important behind at her apartment. She cursed her forgetfulness, which cropped up at the worst of times. Missions seemed to be the only thing she could succeed at nowadays, and there was no room for error. Checking her watch, she saw that there was still enough time to rush to her apartment and back.

She got there in record time, moving silently and swiftly, about to go through the window when a small detail caught her eye. Her front door was slightly ajar. When she had first moved in, she had to figure out a way to finesse the faulty door and get it to close correctly. Warning bells sounded in her head—someone had broken in. Or maybe she had forgotten to close the door correctly in a simple slip of the mind, but that was unlikely. No matter how off her game, Marinette wouldn’t have made this mistake. It was a reflex that couldn’t be broken.

She proceeded with caution, eyes narrowed. However tragic, the incident did provide her with the benefit of enhanced powers. Whoever was in there didn’t stand a chance. She could feel the darkness start to creep in, taking control.

The bluish glow of a light illuminated the inside of her apartment, and her limbs tensed in preparation. Movement in the corner of her vision made her snap her head to attention. There was a figure leaving her room, and the person was toying with something in their hands.

It was nearly pitch-black, but her enhanced senses bypassed any inhibitors. The culprit was wearing a black and red costume with strange chest straps and an emblem—one of Gotham’s vigilantes, then.

That meant they were onto her. She knew it would happen eventually; she was good, but Batman was better. Perhaps if she attempted to prove her innocence she could at least delay her inevitable capture. She dealt with magic, anyways—one more ancient than any other form. The traces left were hard to find by an experienced magic user and impossible to find by a non-user.

She was turned away from the window, about to return to her previous location as proof of her innocence and spin an alibi. But as she did so, the vigilante’s voice stopped her in her tracks. He was speaking quietly into his comm, but she could hear it. She could recognize it too. It sounded almost like—

“Tim,” the voice on the other end of the system said. “Are you almost done?”

It clicked, and horror flooded her Marinette’s body. It snuffed out the darkness, pushing the rage to the corners of her mind. It can’t be him, she thought. Because if it was him, it meant that she was wrong. She trusted him, and she was wrong.

“No names on comms, Dick,” the hero responded.

Any doubt Marinette had that it wasn’t Tim disappeared. A pit opened in her stomach, and the feeling of white-hot rage and betrayal blazed in her mind. Every inch in her body was screaming at her to get out, but she stayed. She needed to know.

“I checked her room, but I couldn’t find anything incriminating yet.”

“What about the bug?”

“Nothing. It didn’t pick anything up.”

A pause.

“That’s weird. Do you think she knows?”

“That I’m Red Robin? No. She wouldn’t have let me get this close if she did.”

Static sounded on the other side of the line before Dick responded one last time.

“Keep searching. If you can’t find anything else on her, we’ll have to take a more… direct approach.”

“Roger that.”

Tim pressed a button on his comms and resumed whatever he was doing, but Marinette had heard enough. She wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. She wanted to jump into the room and ask him if it was all a lie. Voices screamed at each other in her head, trying to get her to do something. Marinette drowned them all out. She steeled herself, turning her back to the window. Taking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and fell into the emptiness.

I let it burn You're no longer my concern Faces from my past return Another lesson yet to learn

Marinette unpacked the boxes she had teleported from her apartment, face carefully blank. The day after she had found out Tim was Red Robin was spent packing her things. Normally they would have already been ready to go; all she would have to do was enact one of her contingency plans. After all, Marinette was prepared for everything. But she wasn’t prepared for this.

The warehouse was one of her most secure, but it was cold and empty, the only warmth emanating from the gas fireplace. The fire flickered, and she could feel her resolve flicker with it. After a few moments, she placed her purse on her lap and gently pulled out the picture of her and Tim.

It was only taken a few weeks ago, but a lot of things could change in a few weeks. Her happy expression was foreign now, and Marinette closed her eyes as she gripped the picture tighter.

After a few moments of hearing the crackling fire, she opened her eyes and studied Tim’s face, carving it into memory.

Then she let it go and let it burn.

That I'd fallen for a lie You were never on my side Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

Marinette had dreams of him often. She hated them, because they gave her hope when hope was what hurt her in the first place.

In those dreams, he told her that he had always loved her. That he had made a mistake in deceiving her, and he wanted her back. Needed her back. He entertained her delusions, and she believed him. At least, until she woke up and cold reality struck.

She really was a fool.

No time to die No time to die

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again.

She didn’t know if she wanted to see him again.

But here they were, facing off. Hero versus villain.

Tim had shown up on one of her missions, somewhere off the coast of a random country. She couldn’t remember at this point. The darkness had consumed her completely, wrath twisting her face into one that was unrecognizable.

“You don’t have to do this.” The placating words sparked her temper.

“Neither did you,” she replied bitterly. They both knew what she really meant.

She charged forward, and Tim parried with his bo-staff, gritting his teeth at the force only to stumble backward when she ducked around and behind him. She sent a kick to the back of his knees—a dirty move, but she never played fair anyways.

Bracing his staff on the ground before him, he used the momentum just in time to flip himself over and avoid falling on his face.

Marinette surveyed emotionlessly as he panted from exhaustion. She could easily take him out right then, but she didn’t want to waste her energy. She had already done what was needed, and her target’s blood would take absolutely forever to get out of her suit.

It seemed as if Tim noticed, and his disbelief at her cruelty seeped through when he asked “How could you?”

She laughed derisively. “How could I?”

The vigilante at least felt some remorse from the way his eyes flashed. Up until this point she had been cold and detached, but he could hear a hint of desperation seep into her words. He knew what she was really asking: if what they had was real. If he had ever loved her, or if it was all a lie. He hesitated before opening his mouth.

“A mission is a mission.”

If he blinked he might have missed it. For a brief second she recoiled, visibly struck before schooling her expression into one of neutrality. Her back straightened, and she fell back into the person he couldn’t recognize. The darkness around her pulsed, and he shifted his weight into a defensive stance, preparing for another attack. But he wasn’t ready for what she had in store.

The darkness expanded, and Tim’s vision grew hazy. He could dimly register his body swaying before it hit the ground. As he faded in and out of consciousness, Marinette stepped into his field of vision. She looked the same since he had last seen her, but her eyes were shadowed and unforgiving. The same lips he used to kiss mouthed the words “a mission is a mission” before everything faded into black.

Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry There's just no time to die

She didn’t think it would end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It was just another normal mission; nothing dangerous—or at least, more dangerous than usual. Hunt down her target, extract information, do away with them as painfully as possibly, and leave.

But after her interaction with Tim, her work had gotten more sloppy. Rather than the icy rage that had become her new normal, her movements were fueled by anguish. Recklessness trumped logic, like she had lost control. And although she was off her game, she wouldn’t let something so trivial become a hindrance.

Until it did.

Marinette was ambushed. She leapt into action as quickly as her reflexes allowed; her movements were slightly delayed, but it was so imperceptible it shouldn't have made a difference.

Except for the fact that her attackers somehow knew her. Knew how she moved, knew exactly what her weaknesses were.

She took down two of the three opponents, leaving the best for last. But with every punch she threw they knew exactly where to block. Her adversary seemed to sense her frustration and laughed behind their infuriating black mask. Marinette snarled, lunging for the figure only to stumble over thin air.

“I thought you were supposed to be better than this.”

She got up and drew in deep breaths, sweat coating her forehead and exhaustion making her weary. She slowly walked in a circle, eyes darting around the shadows in the room.

“You beat one of the Bats, did you not?”

The darkness around her flickered, and that’s when the opponent struck.

Marinette felt the impact, but didn’t realize anything had happened until she moved her hand to see it covered in red. The liquid was warm and sticky, and the puddle beneath her was growing bigger by the second. Blood? She moved her hand closer to her face in an attempt to see it more clearly, but her vision blurred. The room swayed, and she heard an oof as her body hit the floor. It had come from herself.

She knew she had to do something, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was paralyzed. Marinette reached out only to have her arm fall lazily into the pool of red, limbs weak and movements sluggish.

Scarlet seeped into her gloves, and her body burned but was so numb at the same time. She felt so sleepy. Sleep, she thought, the word repeating in her mind like a mantra. A nap sounds good. Right before her eyes closed, pain erupted in her side. Her body jolted, and a cross between a gurgle and cough left her mouth. She tilted her head up to frown at whoever had kicked her only to see the black-hooded figure.

She couldn’t tell from the mask obscuring their face but was sure they had just given her a wicked smile. The person tutted. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Marinette let out a soft noise of defiance. Her protest only seemed to amuse them—them? she was pretty sure it was a woman—judging by the small chuckle they let out. They leaned down, and she felt cold hands caress her face, sending shivers down her spine.

The masked face lowered to her level, and a final message left their lips.

“You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.”

There was a yank, and a strange burning sensation coursed through Marinette’s body. She heard the clatter of an object and spotted a metallic glint before the figure stood up. Panic bloomed in her stomach as they walked away, her breathing getting more shallow by the moment.

She pushed aside the pain, choosing to ignore it in favor of turning over those parting words.

You can thank Red Robin for his assistance.

Red Robin. Marinette wanted to laugh at the irony. Stabbed in the back indeed.

Moments before Tim ran into the room, she took her last breath.

Notes:

I left the details of “the incident” purposefully vague so you guys could think of your own turning point for her. Personally, what I imagine is that after Hawkmoth’s defeat, Marinette tried to take the magical punishments in his place. She also combined both Miraculous and tried to unbind the kwamis so they couldn’t be abused again, but there were consequences. The power “corrupted” her and made more violent. She’s still a hero, technically, but rather than saving people she punishes (kills) them for wrongdoings which is why she’s considered a villain.

In case you’re confused about the ending, here’s what happened: I dressed the ambushers in League of Assassins-esque clothing; I actually wrote it with Talia in mind but decided to leave the person unidentified. Essentially, Marinette lost focus when her opponent mentioned her fight with Tim and got stabbed in the back. The person tells her to “thank Red Robin for his assistance.” Marinette interprets this as another betrayal; basically, she thinks Tim willingly helped them kill her by providing them with information on her. This isn’t the case since they actually stole the information from him, but Marinette doesn’t know that. Whether or not the opponent actually meant for her to think she was betrayed is up for interpretation.

I was actually debating between a few endings—I’ll put them here just for funsies. The more angst the better :D

Marinette dies a while after the apartment incident and never actually talks to/meets Tim again

Someone randomly kills her (no mention of “betrayal”)

Tim accidentally kills her

A clone of Tim kills her

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @enternalempires @freesportspalacesalad

#maribat #celestewrites #timari #timinette #cel's fics

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iffeelscouldkill · 3 years

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TSCOSI Week Day 1: Violet / Nature

A/N: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE A WHOLE DAY LATE FOR THIS AND THEN IT TURNED OUT THAT THE WEEK STARTS ON THE 25TH! Made it with 35 minutes to spare in my timezone dfsgghshshjs

(Watch me now be late for every single other day because I spent all my time on this one fic and have nothing else written for the other days xD)

Anyway, this is Day 1, prompt: Violet/Nature! It’s set kind of ambiguously around season 2, i.e. they’re on the Iris II, but there’s no other specific references to events of season 2, so this is spoiler-free!

Enjoy!

Violet sneaked as quietly as she could through the corridors of the ship, doing her best to conceal the bundle under her arm. The seller at the market stall had been nice enough to wrap it up in extra paper for her to disguise its shape, though he’d cautioned that she should be sure to unwrap it as soon as she had the opportunity.

She just needed to avoid bumping into anyone on her way to her room who might ask what she-

“Did you get what you needed?”

“Gah!” Violet jumped and whirled around, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Uh, sorry, Captain, I thought you were – yes, I did, thank you.”

Sana eyed the bundle under her arm with interest. “Am I allowed to know what you doubled back for?”

“It’s uh…” Violet hesitated. It wasn’t Sana she was trying to keep it a secret from – if anything, Sana was the ideal person to confide in, but she felt suddenly embarrassed, wondering if she’d misjudged her spur-of-the-moment decision. “It’s something for Thursday.”

“Oh!” Sana’s face lit up. “Violet, that’s great. I’ve bought some ingredients to make one of her favourite dishes for dinner, but she’ll definitely love your… mystery gift. And if you need any help getting her in place for the surprise, just let me know!”

Violet smiled at her. “I will, Captain. Thank you. And thanks for… telling me, as well.”

“Of course!” Sana replied, beaming and dimpling at her.

Back in the safety of her room, Violet was finally able to unwrap her purchase. Her room had a kind of desk that folded down from the wall, and Violet unfolded it so that she could set the little terracotta pot with its seedling occupant on its surface. Then she studied it.

To say that Violet was not naturally green-fingered would be an understatement; if anything, she had a flair for killing off plant life, and her friends and roommates had learned very quickly not to trust her with anything green and growing. People had a tendency to gift her with pot plants (the joys of having a flower name), and Violet had taken to lying through her teeth when asked about how they were faring. She’d once had a cactus that had survived for a record six months before dying of what was either neglect or possibly a lack of sunlight.

So the fact that Violet needed to take care of this plant until she could give it to Arkady on her birthday in a week’s time wasn’t ideal. Sana had been the one who’d told her about Arkady’s approaching birthday, explaining that it had taken her years of friendship to even pry the date out of Arkady. “She says that she hates people making a fuss,” Sana explained. “But I think it’s because she could never… do much for it, growing up. I’ve tried to make up for that where I can.” She’d given Violet a significant look at that point.

Violet also didn’t think it was a coincidence that Sana had told her this right before they were due to land and resupply near a harbour town with an extensive marketplace.

Violet had only caught sight of the little stall with its rows of pots and tiny green shoots as they were leaving the market. She’d waved the others on ahead, and then covertly made her way over to the stall to inspect the range of plants and their prices.

It was a shame that they hadn't had any fully-grown varieties, but the stallholder had assured her that it would be much more rewarding to grow and take care of from a seedling. “You don't have the bother of germinating it, but you get to watch it grow," he said. “Just make sure you water it regularly, and keep it in a semi well-lit spot.”

Violet hadn’t liked to ask what that would look like on a spaceship. She hadn’t been prepared to rehearse too much of a cover story for buying a plant. But it was only for a week, right? She could take care of one little plant for a week, and then it would be in Arkady’s expert hands.

Right.

---

Three days later, Violet was definitely panicking a little bit.

She still hadn't figured out how to get a plant the equivalent of natural daylight on a spaceship, and the seedling is definitely starting to look a little droopier than before. She watered it the other day - even though it maybe didn't really need watering - so it's definitely not drying out. Of course, there could be any number of other things wrong with it, and Violet wouldn't know, because she had only ever owned plants involuntarily and did not know how to take care of them.

Okay, Vi, don't overthink this, she instructed herself. You're a biologist - you understand living things in principle. They need shelter, they need water and nutrition. And when you're in an environment where you can't get all your nutrients naturally - say, space - you have to find artificial substitutes. After all, it wasn't like humans could get sunlight in space either, but over decades of space travel, they'd found ways to adapt. Vitamin D supplements were a staple on long-haul ships, as were Vitamin D-rich foods, as there was a limit to how much your body would absorb from pure supplements. As a state-of-the-art vessel, the Iris (one, not two) had also been equipped with sun lamps that the crew could sit under for short periods to stimulate their skin's Vitamin D production. But Violet hadn't found anything of the sort on the Iris II. Except-

Violet sat up abruptly on her bed. The Iris II’s medbay was pretty state-of-the-art compared with the Rumor (okay, her medicine cabinet in undergrad had been state-of-the-art compared to the Rumor’s medbay, but still) and she still hadn’t finished exploring all its various fittings, but she distinctly remembered that the lamp over the examination table had an ultraviolet setting.

What was more, Violet didn’t think that she’d have any trouble keeping Arkady away from the medbay for the rest of the week (since she only ever went in there under duress).

Delighted with her revelation, Violet opened the door to her room, intending to go straight to the medbay and test out the lamp – and found Arkady standing on the other side, fist raised to knock.

“Arkady!” Violet exclaimed, quickly re-angling herself so that she was blocking the view of the table with its plant occupant (and thanking every single one of her stars that she hadn’t picked up the seedling to bring with her to the medbay). “Hi!”

“Uh, hi,” said Arkady, smiling a little quizzically. “I was just coming to ask- well, it’s more like the Captain told me to come and ask-”

“Is your leg hurting again?” Violet asked, quickly catching on.

“Not- excessively,” Arkady hedged. “But uh, more than yesterday?”

“I should definitely check it over,” said Violet firmly. “And I can give you more of that Zaletenol to help with the pain for the rest of the afternoon.”

So much for easily being able to keep Arkady out of the medbay – though, at least Arkady had picked now to ask for a checkup and not after Violet had installed the plant somewhere visible. Her leg had been bothering her a lot less recently, or maybe it was just that Arkady had stopped mentioning it. Violet tried to keep a close eye on Arkady as she moved around the ship, watching for any minute signs of pain or discomfort. Unfortunately, Arkady was very good at masking injuries.

“Thanks,” Arkady said, falling into step alongside Violet as they walked towards the medbay. “Also – hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Violet said, smiling at her. Arkady’s cheeks went a little pink.

“Are you sure you didn’t just come by because you missed me?” Violet asked, because she could never resist leaning into the flirting. RJ, whenever they were within earshot of it, called their flirtation “distracting”, but Violet was more than okay with that.

Sure enough, Arkady’s blush darkened. “I… did, actually,” she said. “I was going to come by anyway after my shift ended to see if you wanted to make something in the kitchen together. Jeeter’s promised to leave it alone for the evening.”

Violet, who had been expecting a quip in return, was temporarily lost for words at Arkady’s shy honesty – not to mention the implication that she’d gone to lengths to secure the kitchen so that they could spend some time together. “I – yeah, I’d love that,” she said, knowing she was definitely blushing as well.

Arkady stopped walking, and Violet stopped too, a little puzzled. “What?”

“We’re…” Arkady gestured at the door opposite them. “We’re at the medbay, Liu.”

“-Oh!” Violet couldn’t help snorting with laughter at her own inattentiveness as she hit the door release button. Now who was the one being distracted?

Arkady’s wound was still healing, but showed some signs of swelling that suggested she hadn’t been staying off it like Violet had told her to. “You know what I’m going to say,” Violet told her as she rolled off the biodegradable plastic gloves that she’d been wearing as she gently probed the edges of Arkady’s leg wound, and dropped them into the waste basket.

Arkady rolled her eyes and leaned back on her elbows. “Keep my weight off my leg; I know, I know. It’s just- hard.”

“I get it,” Violet said sympathetically as she dug out a gel pack and squeezed it to activate the cooling crystals. It expanded and inflated slightly as it began to work, which was always equal parts unnerving and satisfying to watch. She handed the pack to Arkady, who laid it against her leg, wincing slightly as it came into contact with her skin. “Sitting around isn’t your style. But the alternative-”

“-Is worse,” Arkady finished for her. “Yeah. I believe you, I guess I just… thought I’d be able to use it again by now.”

“You can use it,” Violet told her. “But go gently. And no running. Not even small amounts.”

Arkady grimaced guiltily, and Violet hid a smile, her hunch proven correct. “I’m going to relay these instructions to the Captain as well, so that she knows what to keep an eye out for,” she said. Arkady huffed indignantly.

“I don’t need monitoring.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Violet said mildly. “But she needs to know how your recovery is progressing so that she can account for it when she gives you jobs to do.” The fact that she didn’t expect Arkady to give Sana this information of her own accord went unsaid. “You need to hold that on your leg for ten minutes,” she added.

As Arkady sat there with the cooling pack held against her thigh, Violet fiddled with the settings on the overhead lamp – making a soft noise of triumph when the lamp switched to an ultraviolet setting.

“Uh-” Arkady said as the two of them were suddenly bathed in an odd black-violet glow, the white floral designs on Violet’s green top shining with unnatural brightness. “Is that the ‘tanning bed’ setting?”

Violet laughed and switched the lamp back to its regular mode. “Sorry, I was just testing – a lot of these more state-of-the-art long-haul ships are equipped with ultraviolet lamps, to counteract Vitamin D deficiency. It can also be a useful treatment for skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.”

“Huh,” said Arkady, sounding interested. “So, the supplements we take-”

“Don’t account for all of what you need, though if we make landing often enough on planets with a nearby star, you can generally stave off a more serious Vitamin D deficiency,” Violet finished for her.

“Generally?”

“It helps to have one of these on board, just in case,” said Violet. Then, hoping she sounded convincingly casual enough, she added,

“You must have rigged up something similar on the Rumor, right? For the plants in the greenhouse, at least. They’d need some kind of imitation of sunlight in order to grow properly.”

To Violet’s relief, Arkady immediately nodded. “Don’t ask me about the engineering ins and outs of it, but Sana was able to incorporate a couple of ultraviolet bulbs into the greenhouse’s lighting system. Pure ultraviolet light is generally not a good idea, at least long-term – the plants need a balance of ultraviolet and white light to grow properly. So we had a mixture of both.”

Violet nodded in understanding, hoping it didn’t show that she was mentally filing away that detail. “That makes sense,” she said. “I guess I never thought too hard about the practicalities of growing plants in the middle of space.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds,” Arkady said, and Violet almost laughed. “You just have to have a few key things. Light, water, drainage, enough nutrients in the soil… Well, okay, some types of plants are more picky, but the ones we grew on the Rumor were pretty hard to kill.”

Violet snorted a little, figuring it was safe enough to offer up this one detail. “In my experience, no plant is too hard for me to kill. I’m… not particularly good at taking care of them.”

Arkady laughed, and Violet eyed her, a little bit offended. “Sorry, it’s just – you’re a biologist. But you can’t keep a houseplant alive?”

Violet smiled ruefully. “Sad but true. I guess I’d better stick to taking care of people.”

“You, uh…” Arkady looked down at the cooling pack on her leg, gently pressing down on its edges. “You’re pretty good at that one. I mean, not pretty good- well, you are, but- very. You’re very good at it.” The cooling pack was really getting flattened now. Violet smiled, and reached out to gently touch Arkady’s hand and still it.

“Thanks,” she said simply, but tried to show in her expression everything she was feeling. “Shall we go make dinner? You can take the cooling pack off now.”

---

There was still something wrong with the plant.

After managing to persuade Arkady to divulge the secrets of plant care in outer space, Violet had snuck her gift into the medbay for a few hours each day under the guise of ‘inventorying the supplies’, and sat it under the ultraviolet lamp. The rest of the time, the plant lived in her room under a regular white light.

The system had seemed to work at first - the plant visibly perked up, and Violet was now thoroughly familiar with the range of equipment and supplies in the new medbay, which was a big bonus. But now that Violet was studying the plant under the ultraviolet light again, the evening before she was due to give the plant to Arkady, she could tell something was wrong. The plant’s leaves – which had become bigger and more numerous in the short time she’d been taking care of it – were drooping more than they had been, and some of them looked yellow. Frustrated, Violet mentally ran through what Arkady had mentioned you needed to grow plants. Water; she’d watered it twice. The man at the stall had said to water the plant “regularly”, but how often was that? The soil didn’t seem dried out, at least. She’d been giving it light, and as for nutrients in the soil, well, Violet had no idea how to check for that. But it wasn't like she could do anything about the soil if it was no good; they didn't exactly have fertiliser stocked on the ship. Squinting at the plant more closely, Violet was more convinced that something was off. There were these little... bumps on the stem and the underside of the plant's leaves. Bumps that were...

...moving. Violet reared back, clapping a hand over her mouth. Insects. Her – Arkady's – plant had an insect infestation. What was she going to do?? Mentally, she cursed the stallholder for selling her a bug-infested plant. But she realised that was uncharitable. Insects were a part of nature; you couldn't avoid that. He probably hadn't known about the bugs, and it wasn't as if she'd been checking for them anyway. But she couldn't give the plant to Arkady now. What kind of a present would that be? “Happy birthday; here's a sickly, bug-infested plant. Good luck!” She hated the idea of just throwing it out, though – of having to admit failure (again) after she'd tried so hard do things right this time. And she wouldn't have a present for Arkady's birthday. Obviously plant owners dealt with insects all the time, but Violet couldn't ask Arkady about what to do without arousing suspicion and ruining the surprise. Still, which was worse - giving the game away, or letting things get worse because she had no idea how to treat an insect infestation? That was when Violet had an idea. Banking on the fact that no-one was likely to enter the medbay without her there, Violet left Arkady's plant under the UV lamp and closed the door behind her. Looking up and down the corridor, she picked a direction and speed-walked, blowing past a confused RJ, who said, “Uh-” and almost bumping into Brian. “Hey, dude, everything all right?” “Have you seen the Captain?” Violet asked him. “Think she's up in the cockpit,” he replied. “Great, thank you,” said Violet, relieved. If Sana was up in the cockpit, that meant she was with Krejjh, which was... better than her being with Arkady. Not by a lot, because Krejjh was not renowned for their subtlety, but Violet would take what she could get. Coming to a halt in front of the cockpit door, Violet had just realised that she had yet to memorise the entry code for the new ship when the door opened. “Violet!” said Sana in surprise. “Are you okay, is something wrong?” “Not exactly,” Violet admitted as Krejjh, seated at the controls, craned their head around in interest. “I uh, needed your help with something.”

Sana’s expression immediately turned interested. “Okay. Do you wanna talk in here, or...” “Uh, just somewhere-” Violet didn’t want to hurt Krejjh’s feelings by saying ‘somewhere private’, but privacy would be ideal. “-else? It’s about...” Sana’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! Don’t worry, Arkady’s busy with something in the engine room at the moment.” Krejjh fully twisted their body around. “Are you avoiding First Mate Patel?” they demanded with glee. Violet cringed slightly, wishing the Captain could have been a bit more discreet. “Not... permanently, just at the moment.” “We’ll fill you in later, Krejjh,” Sana promised. “Shall we talk in the kitchen, Violet?” Violet nodded, and the two of them made their way through the still jarringly shiny and unfamiliar corridors of the Iris II until they reached the kitchen. Once inside, Sana said, “So, what can I help you with?” “Uh, so this is going to sound like a weird question,” Violet hedged. “But... when you guys were growing food and plants on Cresswin, what did you use for pesticides?” Sana blinked twice and then frowned a little. “Gotta say, I wasn’t really involved in any of the growing – I’m not very good with plants,” she admitted, and Violet almost burst out laughing at the irony. “That’s more Arkady’s domain. But I do happen to know what Campbell uses on his tomato plants, and I think he mixes...” She turned to the cupboards and began pulling out bottles: vegetable oil, baking soda, dish soap. “Depending on how much you need, you want to use twice as much oil as baking soda, and just a little bit of the dish soap,” Sana explained. “And then you want to dilute it with a couple of quarts of water. You can put it in...” She produced an empty spray bottle from yet another cupboard. “This! I was going to make a cleaning spray, but your need is greater.” “Oh God, thank you so much,” Violet said, picking up the bottles. “Did Campbell really tell you all the quantities?” She tried to think when this might have come up over moonshine. Sana smiled, one of her dimples showing. “I helped him make it once. He was having a bit of a crisis.” Violet laughed. “So, a plant, huh?” Sana asked her, her expression knowing. Violet’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m not very good with them either,” she said. Sana smiled at her. “Luckily for both of us, Arkady is. And she will love it,” she said, and headed for the door. “Bugs and all.” Violet put one hand over her face and groaned, but she was laughing. She unscrewed the top of the spray bottle and got to work.

---

De-contaminating the plant was harder work than Violet had bargained for. Violet supposed that most people treating their plants with bug spray weren’t so concerned with appearances, but she really wanted it to look good for Arkady. (And dead bugs were not a good gift). So after spritzing the plant carefully but thoroughly with her homemade spray and then leaving it for a couple of hours to take effect, she used a cotton swab to dust the tiny stalks and leaves and carefully remove any traces of the bugs and the spray.

By the time she was done, it was well after midnight. Violet stretched her arms over her head and breathed a sigh of relief. The plant looked okay. Not in peak health, but okay, and maybe by the morning it would have perked up fully.

Even after midnight, there was always someone awake on the ship, but that someone was usually Krejjh, Sana or Park in the cockpit, which was why Violet deemed it safe to carry the plant with her from the medbay back to her room.

She realised that had been a mistake when, after taking just a few steps away from the medbay, she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Arkady.

“Liu!” said Arkady, her expression lighting up in a way that Violet was slowly coming to realise might actually be just for her. It quickly gave way to confusion as Arkady spotted the plant. “Oh hey, that’s – cool, where did you…? I didn’t realise you had a plant.”

Violet briefly tried to think of a way to explain away the plant, before realising it would just create more confusion and giving in to the inevitable. At least it was after midnight.

“Um, I’ve been keeping it secret because it’s… for you,” she said, proffering the plant. “I was actually planning to present it in a much nicer way, maybe with a ribbon around it? Which is my fault for carrying it openly around the ship, but I thought you’d be asleep, and you’re not and now you’ve seen me, so uh… Happy birthday!”

A dumbfounded silence greeted her words. Violet waited, breath coming quicker as she nervously started to second-guess herself. Oh god, she hates it! The leaves look really yellow under this light, I didn’t realise – or did Captain Tripathi get the date wrong? Maybe it’s not her birthday after all? “I-if you don’t like it, though, I can just-”

“No!” Arkady said, her arms shooting out to take the plant quickly. “I mean yes! It’s great! I was just trying to think when you – when did you buy this? We haven’t made any stops for a week.”

Violet nodded, feeling giddy with relief. “I bought it at a market on Rodinia,” she said. “I’ve been hiding it in the medbay pretty much since then.”

“The ultraviolet light,” Arkady said with dawning realisation. “But you – hate taking care of plants. Right? Or did you just say that to throw me off?”

“No, that was true,” Violet said ruefully. “It’s a miracle this one is still alive.”

Arkady stared down at the plant with a complicated expression, but fortunately Violet was familiar enough with Arkady’s ‘I’m-coming-to-terms-with-someone-doing-a-nice-thing-for-me’ expression not to panic this time. “It’s a bonsai tree,” she said gently, to fill the silence as Arkady processed. “Well, one of several varieties – I know bonsai is actually about how you take care of the tree, and not the variety. This one’s a Japanese maple. Captain Tripathi said you liked trees, and I thought… you can keep this one in your room and grow it yourself.”

“You got me a tree,” Arkady said softly, and Violet could detect a tiny tremor in her voice. “My own… tree.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much, I-”

“No,” Arkady interrupted her quickly. “No, Liu, it’s… perfect. Really.”

Violet knew she was blushing, and smiling so widely it was almost painful, but she couldn’t care too much about either of those things – even though they were still standing in the middle of the corridor. “Happy birthday,” she said again. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Arkady looked up at her, holding the plant pot close to her chest, almost cradling it. “How did you know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“The Captain told me,” Violet admitted. “I hope that’s okay. She said you don’t really like… fuss around your birthday, and we don’t have to do anything else for it or even mention it at all if you don’t want to, but – I think she wanted you to have something nice. And so did I.”

Arkady’s face did something complicated again, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. “She’s too perceptive for her own good,” she grumbled. “She’s cooking dinner for me, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Violet confirmed.

Arkady sighed, but it was the sigh of someone who was secretly pleased and trying to hide it. “Just so long as there’s no singing.” She lifted the plant slightly. “I’m gonna go put this in my room. Want to… come with? You can tell me all about how to take care of it.”

Violet snorted, bumping her shoulder lightly with Arkady’s as they walked towards Arkady’s room. “I can tell you about all the ways I nearly killed it before your birthday.”

“That works, too.”

#Violet Liu #TSCOSI #TSCOSI week #Arkady Patel #Sana Tripathi #Krejjh #I got really into the headcanon that Violet sucks at taking care of plants #because 1) it's hilarious #and 2) it makes a kind of sense with her 'you make plants grow in the middle of cold empty space' line #like she's extra in love with Arkady for that talent because she just can't do plants #I like plants a lot myself although I've never had to treat one with homemade bug spray so Google provided the details on that #ditto the UV light stuff #and I mean in canon they probably just have sun lamps installed throughout the ship so that no-one has to worry about Vitamin D deficiency #but that wouldn't be nearly as fun!

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journeysintowebcomics · 5 years

Text

Worm Liveblog #109

UPDATE 109: The Moment Skitter Achieves Her Goal

Last time Taylor saw Coil’s move: he sent a double and his villain lackeys to attack the mayoral debate, injuring Director Piggot in the process and managing to place himself as the big boss of the Protectorate. What shall be done now? Let’s continue.

Skitter’s eyesight hasn’t gotten any better during the trip between the hospital and Coil’s lair. She’s relying on her swarms to look, and since her brain isn’t using her eyes properly, there’s space for her to process everything the bugs are sensing, giving her a decent perception of her surroundings. It’s not that good, but it’s something! At least it’s enough for her to notice this place is empty.

The on-duty squads of soldiers were gone, as were the trucks, weapons, supplies and furniture. The entire ground floor was desolate, with clean patches in the dust where furniture and crates had been.

Sounds to me like Coil not only is going underground by faking his death, he also just...abandoned his villain teams. I don’t recall anything indicating he would pack and leave, so this must be a surprise. Is Noelle still locked in a vault in the depths of this hideout? Did Coil abandon her, just...leaving her behind deep underground? The Travelers can’t have been happy about that. It could be a way to finally convince them to side with the Undersiders and try to throw Coil off his newfound throne.

Still, how’s anyone supposed to contact Coil now? Are all the communications limited to the cellphone line? I don’t think going to the PRT offices will help keep a low profile, so that may not be an option.

This hideout isn’t as empty as it seemed, the Travelers are here. Coil may have left the hideout to them, due to Noelle being in that vault! They noticed the swarms of bugs going around, so knowing that meant Skitter was nearby, they went up to meet her. Hello, guys! Skitter may be alone or just with Tattletale, but she sure isn’t mentioning that, instead she says the rest of the team is upstairs.

“Just saying, but you know Coil’s dead, right?” Trickster asked. “I saw it happen,” I answered him. I chose my words carefully, “So I have a very good idea of how dead the man is.” “Fair enough.”

Did the Travelers know in advance what Coil was planning to do? Seeing how they tried – half-assedly, may I add – to say Coil was totally dead and not sitting in the PRT’s offices right now, maybe only the Undersiders were supposed to be unaware he survived.

There’s still some hostility when the topic of Noelle is touched, the atmosphere is uncomfortable. Trickster, being the only one to be talking, is unashamedly hostile, pretty much listing all of the grievances he has against the Undersiders. It’s okay to cooperate in order to destroy a common enemy, it’s okay to try to sweet-talk someone in the team, it’s okay to try to convince enemies to join them, but they’re not friends! Honestly, that’s fine. Trickster isn’t really someone to be fond of. If he doesn’t want to cooperate with the Undersiders and would rather to be antagonistic towards them then fine, more power to him. He better not get in the way, though. All his hostility is fine as long as he doesn’t cause trouble for the Undersiders.

“There has to be more common ground there. We can’t meet, share a box of donuts and talk about ways to mutually benefit our territories?”

Aw, that’s kind of sweet. Skitter truly wants to connect with them, maybe help each other. She sure is willing to give them a chance, and even try to benefit the people in the Travelers’ territories. Sadly, her befriending efforts don’t work at all.

“The fact that you have to ask that is a pretty good indication of how clueless you are about this. Let’s count the ways. One, I don’t give a ratfuck about my territory or the people in it. None of us do.”

Charming. I’m not surprised at all he doesn’t care about anyone except his own team, and that I have doubts about. Does he really speak for everyone? Is everybody in the Travelers as cold as he is? I never had the impression they were, honestly. Sundancer, for example, seems to disagree, but I really doubt any of them will pipe up and say that hey, they care about the people in the territories, even if they won’t talk with Skitter.

“Two,” he continued, “We don’t plan to be here much longer anyways. Either Coil fulfills his end of the bargain and we’re out of this hellhole, or he doesn’t and we take a hike anyways. Take our chances elsewhere.”

Or, and listen to me here, Coil keeps baiting them around with more promises and excuses, and that way the Travelers stick around against their will. If he doesn’t fulfill the promise, will the Travelers just drag Noelle around, with whatever problem she has? Ballistic plans to stay here in Brockton Bay to continue working with Coil, buuut what if others decide to do that too, since nobody is satisfied with Trickster’s leadership? He’s taking for granted everyone’s going to leave.

For a moment Skitter considers mentioning Ballistic plans to stay and I’m really thankful she didn’t. Trying to cause dissent in the Travelers wouldn’t work. Ballistic would get so annoyed and upset, and nobody would believe her. Really, I’m glad she didn’t even try.

Skitter stops Trickster from continuing his spiel for much longer, she gets the message: he’s not interested at all on working with the Undersiders for anything, they don’t need the Undersiders anymore. To try to end this, Skitter goes straight to the point and says she had come here to offer the Travelers to come along when they ask something to Coil.

“Coil went to a lot of effort in putting together his grand plan. He died in a blaze of glory and violence, just like he wanted. Do you really want to spoil that by going on about how he’s still alive?”

...alright, so. Um. The reason why Trickster is repeating this is because Skitter maybe has a communication device recording this conversation, or is bugged – haha, very funny – or something. The thing is...would anyone believe Coil did all this long, calculated, complicated plan using dozens of people and untold amounts of money, all to kill himself in the end? I can guarantee absolutely nobody would believe such a thing. In fact, I bet if the heroes listened to this conversation, they’d take Trickster’s constant denial as a sign Coil likely isn’t dead. Besides...

“You mean outside of the possibility that you’re wired and my saying the wrong thing could out him? Whatever.”

Saying that is as good as admitting Coil is alive. What’s plausible denial? Hell if Trickster knows.

The conversation ends in no unclear terms: the Travelers are not coming. Everyone enters the apartments they’re living in right now, leaving Skitter behind. Genesis is the only one who is left, she talks to Skitter for a moment, trying to appease her by saying Trickster is stressed because a lot he has worked for all this time is relying on the next two days. While that’s an understandable reason to be stressed and lashing out, he’s going a tad too far. I’m sure even after these two days he’ll continue behaving like this, so what will the excuse be by then?

“Then good luck with your thing,” she said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.”

How the hell am I supposed to take that?

There isn’t really a right way to take that. Joke’s on you, Genesis, you’re gonna keep seeing Skitter over and over again because she’s the protagonist of this story.

This badly-executed meeting wasn’t a waste of time for Skitter, she managed to get something out of it: knowledge Coil is up to something shady. It seems he did inform the Travelers of what he had been planning to do, and he may have intended to keep the Travelers away while Skitter talked to him. If he really was going to free Dinah, then he wouldn’t mind if the Travelers were there. Or...something like that. The wording is a tad confusing, but as I see it, the core of Skitter’s point is that Coil wouldn’t make it so there are no witnesses if he truly planned to fulfill his end of the deal. I’m completely unsurprised about that.

The second thing Skitter figured out by coming here was obvious once she found out the place had been abandoned: Dinah isn’t here. Well yeah! I’d be surprised if she had been left behind. Since I’m unconvinced he’s going to let her be free, he’s going to keep her under his control. The thing is...where could he have her? In the very likely scenario he is Thomas Calvert it’s not like he can keep her in a cell in the depths of the Protectorate building.

Turns out Skitter hadn’t been bluffing when she said the Undersiders were up there, waiting for any signal something had gone wrong, they’re all waiting on the roof and areas around the roof. Skitter cautions them to not wait on such a visible place, as a sniper may shoot them.

“You said these suits were bulletproof,” Imp said. I noticed how she didn’t move.

They might be bulletproof. They do can withstand a blade, but they may not be bulletproof. Look, even if it is, I don’t think the costume will protect them from falling from the roof onto the ground.

Alright, looks like Skitter already has a plan and an idea of how this will be like: they will summon Thomas Calvert to meet them in a place on top of a building. This is supposed to stop him from just killing them all, too, so it’s all for increased safety. Feels a lot like a hostage negotiation, haha! Looks like it’ll be here, in the building that used to host the hideout, and to avoid being trapped Skitter makes it so they have a lifeline: swing off the edge of the building to safety. Hah! Fun times. She can’t guarantee it’ll be safe, but anyone would take a dangerous move with a chance of working, over a situation where it’s guaranteed they’ll die.

Everything Skitter is talking about here is about ways to be safe for when Coil inevitably turns against them. She knows Coil knows very well how all of their powers work, thanks to his extensive experience with them – on two timelines, as if that wasn’t enough. Skitter will set up all the precautions she can take at a time like this, but she doesn’t have much faith she’d be able to pull off something Coil hasn’t seen or heard about before. Aw, don’t be like that, Skitter! You have done waaaay more than what your enemies know you can do, you’ll be fine.

The Undersiders position themselves according to their prominence in the story, for strategic and emotional support purposes. Skitter, Grue and Tattletale are to the front, Imp, Heckpuppy and Regent to the back. On the other end of the roof, Coil makes act of presence. Indeed, it is Thomas Calvert. Skitter wastes no time, passing bugs all over Calvert’s face right away, experience I’m sure he found annoying.

“Undersiders. After your last interaction with Director Piggot, I assumed you would want to speak to me and try establishing ground rules?”

“We know it’s you, boss,” Regent said.

My bugs caught the slightest exhalation from Director Calvert’s nostrils, a minor expression of annoyance. “The Travelers were a little more circumspect.”

Oh my god, everyone wants to pretend things aren’t as straightforward as they truly are, and the Undersiders aren’t playing along. Truly, the Undersiders aren’t into subtlety. I note he’s admitting this in front of the PRT squad that’s accompanying him, so I suppose everybody he’s with is part of his mercenaries. He’s getting his trained soldiers into the organization he controls now, I see.

Coil isn’t happy to see Skitter and the rest of the Undersiders are wearing their costumes, defying the order he had given about not wearing the stuff. Skitter argues that, since she got injured in the attack earlier, she’d rather play safe, as she wouldn’t have gotten injured if she had been costumed. True, but she also wouldn’t have been with Dad Hebert, so...would she have been at the town hall in the first place?

Once Calvert is certain Skitter and the rest didn’t get a surge of traitorous demeanor and tried to have a listening device here, he talks freely about what happened. Everyone in the room was carefully selected and briefed on what they had to do. The two mayoral candidates were recruited long ago, no word on if they were told they were going to get stabbed. Maybe they were! Circus and Chariot were hired nearly a year and a half ago, and both grew into the public’s perception according to Coil’s plans. I’m sure Coil already knew Chariot had been found out, anyway. Uber and Leet are recent hires, just for convenience.

Most reporters were selected and stationed well in advance, claiming the rear of the room where they would bear the brunt of the attack, so to speak.”

“They didn’t die?” I asked.

...that has to be the most surprising part of the entire hubbub. I notice it says ‘most’, so perhaps those Coil didn’t recruit did perish? Regardless, pieces of people must have been prepared in advance to simulate the deaths, although this all would mean their careers are over. All the money Coil must have paid them better have been worth it.

“The reporters, as I said, were plants. I needed news reporters in place who would be sure to catch the details I wanted them to catch. Some editing of the footage just prior to it being sent to the news stations served to smooth rough edges and highlight key points.”

Okay, I’m satisfied! That explains so well the gap in logic I had mentioned in the last update, about how it was being taken for granted the reporters and their crew would be able to make content that showed Coil’s death! It was all planned. It never crossed my mind, the reporter crews would be part of Coil’s hired people as well. I’m really glad this was all mentioned! Thanks for realizing what was going on and taking measures to fill that hole, Mr. Wildbow, this is why you’re a good writer.

The point of the attack was to make Director Piggot look as ineffectual as possible. They doubtlessly will use some doctored footage from the attack to make her look bad! Or at least I hope so, because getting stabbed isn’t really a sign of uselessness. Mrs. Padillo will be the new mayor, and also some guy named Thomas Grove will recover. I thought the other mayoral candidate was supposed to be called Keith Grove, but okay.

Coil had prepared his plan so well he even had a second power supply ready to explode in case the heroes got rid of the first one, they had it in the lobby. He mentions how carefully everything was calculated, and that he left the crowd largely untouched. He also confirms they had engineered a technology that worked similarly to Trickster, using that to teleport masses of flesh in place of the press, so those would be blown up by the explosion. All in all, this entire thing seems to have been much less cruel than I thought it was. I’m sure Director Piggot would disagree, what with being stabbed.

Looks like this is the last time Circus, Uber and Leet will appear in the story, as they’ll be leaving Brockton Bay and won’t even have to return to a life of crime. No big loss for the story, really.

To us, he said, “It just isn’t worth killing good help. Should my ultimate plans here fall through, it’s better to have individuals like them on reserve.”

Does that mean Skitter isn’t in danger of being killed soon? I’m glad. It’s not going to stop her from fighting Coil, but if he believes he can get her to cooperate...

There’s some more villainous monologue here, Calvert is explaining what will happen next in his plan to establish his grip onto Brockton Bay. As Director, he’ll lead the campaign against the villains. Now there are only two groups left in the city: the Undersiders and the Travelers. The Travelers will be the first ones targeted, and they will avoid capture. Huh. Is that why Genesis was saying in forty-eight hours there’d be some important results? The Travelers would elude capture and leave the city with a heap of cash – guess Ballistic won’t have the option of sticking around.

It’s a good idea to make it so fast, though. It’d make Calvert look like a pretty competent director, and although maybe some people would be skeptical about how fast he managed to defeat one of the very powerful villain teams, there’d be no proof of any sort of alliances.

The Undersiders would be losing their territories in the incoming months, too. They’d get away too, with amazing amounts of money, and a couple Undersiders would rule over nearby cities with villain presence, pretty much working as Calvert’s proxies in terms of power. All in all, it’s a pretty good and reasonable plan, for a villain. Too bad Calvert has no honor – I’ll never get over how he shot his captain in the back to heighten his odds of escaping.

“Why become PRT director?” Grue asked. “Why not mayor?”

“All eyes will be on the mayor after the recent fiasco. Mr. Grove will serve as a red herring, drawing all suspicious eyes to him before he defers the election to Mrs. Padillo. Besides, who would you rather rule? A dozen capes or fifty thousand unpowered civilians?”

I meeeeeean...I’d rather to be under the rule of someone who knows what they’re doing for the benefit of the city, the number and power or lack thereof is irrelevant.

“You said the Travelers will be the first to be ousted,” I said. “Does that mean you’ve found a solution to their problem?”

“No. But we have several last resort answers, and those will be exhausted soon.”

Sounds to me like he already knows those last resort answers won’t work. Trickster isn’t going to be happy to hear that, but methinks he’s already resigned to that possibility.

With my bugs, I noted Tattletale making a hand gesture. Left index finger and middle finger pressed together, she tapped her thumb against the tips of the other two fingers.

What’s this gesture supposed to mean? I replicated it and all, but I just don’t get the meaning. This was done right after Calvert mentioned the last resort options will be exhausted soon.

Now here comes the point Skitter was waiting for: Dinah. Calvert offers to give Skitter executive powers in naming the measures she’d like to see pass, including employment stimulation for laborers and a restoration of the ferry services – measures that’d be quite beneficial for Dad Hebert, whose identity I’m sure Calvert knows. This continued cooperation will go on for another year, and then Dinah would be freed. In other words: he’s trying to avoid fulfilling his agreement with Skitter. In terms of...well, terms, it’s not a bad agreement! Quite tempting, especially for someone who wants the best for her territory and its people, but Skitter really wants to have Dinah out of Calvert’s clutches. That I agree with.

...although...I won’t lie; Calvert’s offer is really tempting. Oh well.

“No,” I told him. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got to let her go.”

“Then I will. I’m disappointed, but I won’t have it said that I’m not a man of my word.”

My heart was pounding. Just like that?

Nope! No no no no no. I won’t believe it until Dinah is safe and sound. I just can’t believe Calvert would let Dinah go, no way.

Calvert gives Taylor two options: she may return Dinah to her family, or she can pass her onto Skitter’s custody. He better mean ‘your custody’ as in ‘I’ll pass her to you and then you’ll deal with returning her’, instead of giving her to Skitter so she adopts her. Skitter decides Dinah shall be delivered to her family.

“Very well. With your permission, we’ll release her to her parents, with some covert surveillance to ensure she does not reveal any details of my greater mission.”

So...this means it’s likely Dinah will be stalked for the rest of her life. That’s better than being drugged and captive in Coil’s hideout, but it’s far from an ideal situation. I hope that, now that Dinah will be free, Skitter still fights Coil, although that’ll be much more difficult now that he’s the director of the local PRT.

Tattletale and Regent shall go down to check on Noelle, while the rest go with Skitter to greet Dinah and make sure she’s delivered to her family. While these final cautious arrangements are made, all Skitter can do is stand around, flabbergasted something went right for once! For maybe the second time ever since Worm started, something Skitter fought hard for has been achieved, seemingly without any drawbacks! Haha, when things always crash and burn afterwards, these moments of triumph must be delightful.

For weeks, months, I’d been bracing myself to hear Coil say no. To hear him say ‘I promised I’d consider it’ or ‘I promised to release her when my plan reached its conclusion, and that won’t happen for another year.’

Technically he did the latter. He just made it be an optional thing that Skitter could accept or reject.

There’s a fifteen minute ride, until they arrive at a building where there’s a squad of armed soldiers, a man who wasn’t armed, and a little girl. Hm...it’s kind of worrying Skitter can’t see yet. She has her bugs, but in my opinion, there’s a chance Coil may have arranged some sort of impostor. They let Coil return an impostor to the family, Skitter thinks everything is fine and dandy, and Coil gets away with keeping Dinah. It’s not that much of a stretch. Have any of the Undersiders seen Dinah, ever? I think Skitter has, but I’m not certain. What I’m trying to say is that it’s not impossible she’s some sort of decoy.

She hasn’t even said a word. I’m still pretty worried here.

The rather intense headlights of the truck are turned on, if Skitter had been able to see it would have been blinding. She tries to give Dinah some reassurance and finds nothing. It’s not that Dinah was suddenly pulled away or anything, though.

It’s that Skitter was teleported. It doesn’t take me long to realize it must have been similar to the technology he used during the town hall attack earlier. He teleported things and people around back then, after all.

So yeah, this was a trap. Calvert and a squad of his soldiers are in front of her, while she’s standing there surrounded with containment foam. Calvert himself had his gun aimed at her.

“No monologue?” I asked, “You’re not going to explain how you did it? How you’re going to deal with my teammates or explain what happened to me?”

Hmmmmm...if it was anything like what happened at the town hall, he must have swapped Skitter with something or someone. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be convenient if Grue and Heckpuppy, who’d be nearby, get alarmed and realize Calvert isn’t playing fair. Perhaps a Skitter impostor? One that’d vanish mysteriously in a while, to never be seen again?

Regardless, the last line in this chapter is Calvert shooting his gun. No, no way Skitter is going to die here. She’s going to come close, and it’ll be hard to survive because she’s currently blind, but damn it’ll be difficult. I’m looking forward to finding out how she’ll get out of this! But that’ll be for next time.

Next time: in three updates

#worm #worm liveblog #webserial #liveblog #webserial liveblog

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per-ineptia-ad-astra · 5 years

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Star Trek Episode 1.18: Arena

AKA: Lizard in the Sky With Diamonds

Our episode begins with a landing party (Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and a ‘shirt of each color, to balance things out) assembling in the transporter room. Off to one side, Kirk is telling McCoy, “You’ll enjoy Commodore Travers. He sets a good table.” McCoy seems pretty happy about this, and who could blame him—the last guy who put them up didn’t set a good table at all. He wonders if Travers brought his personal chef with him to the planet they’re visiting, Cestus 3. “Rank hath its privileges,” Kirk says. “How well we both know that,” McCoy chuckles. Bones...have you ever used your rank for anything? Do you know even know what your rank is?

A message comes in on the transporter comm from Travers, saying he’s waiting for them—oh, and he wants Kirk to bring his best tactical people because he’s got an interesting problem for them. Spock thinks this is odd and wonders why Travers wants tactical people, but Kirk shrugs it off, saying Travers probably just wants all the help he can get since his colony is exposed and on the edge of nowhere. Spock still thinks it’s weird, but McCoy is like SHUT UP SPOCK THEY’RE FEEDING US.

Spock’s trepidation notwithstanding, the landing party gets into position and beams down. The moment they materialize, though, it’s clear that something has gone horribly wrong.

[ID: McCoy, Spock, Kirk, and three Enterprise crewmen, one in red, one in blue, and one in gold, standing on a open patch of scorched dirt. Kirk is leaning over his communicator and saying “Kirk to Enterprise. Red alert.” into it, while everyone else looks back at the remains of a curved wall behind them.]

does this mean dinner’s canceled?

Kirk calls up the ship and issues a red alert. Asked why, he says, quite bluntly, “Cestus 3 has been destroyed,” then hangs up while the person on the other end is presumably still going “wait, what.”

After the titles, the landing party makes a run for the nearest bit of cover, where Kirk orders Spock to scan for signs of life. This all happened several days ago, he muses, meaning that the messages asking them to come visit the colony must have been faked. He orders the goldshirt (Lang) to go in one direction to look for survivors, the blueshirt (Kelowitz) to go in another direction, and the redshirt (O’Herlihy) to stay with them.

A moment later, Spock picks up some very weak lifesigns, so the remaining four of them head off to go investigate. As they walk Kirk gives us a recap via captain’s log: we were invited to Cestus 3, landed to find it completely destroyed, do they call this hospitality because I don’t. Then McCoy spots something and immediately takes off running, with everyone else pelting after him. It turns out to be an injured guy (unsurprisingly; if you see McCoy suddenly sprint off somewhere it’s a safe guess that Doctor Mode has been activated) laying in some rubble. McCoy does a scan and says that the guy’s got radiation burns, internal injuries, and shock. Or, to use a precise medical term, he’s real fucked up.

As McCoy does his doctor things Spock tells Kirk that he’s picked up some more life signs. But while whatever’s out there might be alive, it’s not human survivors, or indeed any life that they know of, because these life signs are not warmblooded. And despite what McCoy says Spock isn’t actually coldblooded, or I’d accuse him of just having the scanner the wrong way round. Spock picks out the approximate location and Kirk tells O’Herlihy to go check it out.

So O’Herlihy runs forward a little bit, then stands up and yells, “Captain, I see something!” Then a red light hits him and he’s immediately disintegrated. Great job.

Before anyone has time to process this, a shell falls nearby. Everyone drops flat to the ground for cover, except for McCoy, whose first instinct was to shield the wounded guy.

[ID: Kirk, Spock, Lang and Kelowitz crouching for cover in a pile of rubble next to a stone formation; in the middle of the group McCoy is laying on top of the injured man.]

Right, it’s looking like it’s past time to get the hell out of Dodge. Kirk calls up the Enterprise and tells them to beam up the landing party, but Sulu tells him they can’t—they’re under attack by an unidentified ship and had to raise their shields, and there’s no beaming through the shields. Things are just going badly on all fronts today. Kirk tells Sulu to keep the shields up and fire all phasers. Sulu does so, but reports that the other ship has its shields up too (it’d be kind of weird if they didn’t, really) so that didn’t do much.

Kirk tells Sulu to do anything he has to do to keep the Enterprise safe; the landing party will hold out down there in the meantime. Sulu, who of course has no idea what’s going on planetside, says that if they’re under attack he could drop the shields long enough to beam them up, but Kirk won’t have it. The safety of the ship comes before anything else.

Of course, for the landing party, holding out down there is easier said than done. They’re still being shelled, and as Spock points out, the disrupters the enemy is using are massively OP compared to the Enterprise crew’s hand phasers. But that’s the situation they’re in so they’re going to have to deal with it. For the moment they’ll have to settle for getting out of the open, so Kirk and Spock lead a run over to the buildings encircling the area, while McCoy and the remaining two ‘shirts come after them carrying the injured guy. Kirk then tells the ‘shirts to fan out and lay down some fire. And keep their heads down. Sure, that’ll help.

Kirk himself is none too pleased about having to be away from his ship while she’s in trouble (that he’s also in mortal peril is just sort of an annoying side problem). He’s also irritated that they can’t even get at their attackers, which raises the question of why he sent the ‘shirts out there after them. Spock points out, though, that at the moment their attackers also can’t get to them, unless they move position to some nearby high ground. Kirk asks if Spock remembers the base layout well enough to know where the arsenal is, which fortunately Spock does, though he cautions that after an attack of this level there might not be anything left. But there’s not a whole lot of other options, so Kirk takes the risk and sets off into the open again.

He zigzags around a bit, then combat rolls away from a blast and crawls behind a thing, where he gets a call from Sulu saying that their phasers didn’t have any effect on the other ship. Kirk tells him to switch to photon torpedoes. Kirk, I know you care about your ship a lot, but I think running across a battlefield dodging shells is quite enough for any one person to focus on without also trying to micromanage a space battle at the same time.

Sulu says that they have no ID on the ship, and it’s too far away for visual contact. You mean you can’t just look out the window for it? Dang, that usually works. They fire the photon torpedoes and Kirk tries to say something else, but has to break off because the communicator’s on the fritz, and also because of the minor detail that he’s being shelled. He gets up and makes a dash for the arsenal, a little building in the middle of the colony with a convenient crater out front that Kirk does a dive and roll into because of course he does. Then he calls Sulu again and tells him to do anything he has to to protect the ship, even if it means leaving them all behind. Sulu’s obviously not happy about that, but he agrees. Incidentally, Sulu is, as you might expect, at the helm during all this. Who has the conn? Is anyone actually running this ship?

Anyway, it seems the photon torpedoes didn’t work either, which means Sulu has to reluctantly retreat, warping out of orbit while Kirk makes for the arsenal. Back under the overhang, Spock asks McCoy how the injured guy is doing. McCoy bluntly says that without better medical care he’ll be dead in half an hour. McCoy doesn’t seem real concerned about the whole ‘being shelled’ thing, which is not real surprising; McCoy generally doesn’t care about much else when he’s got a patient to look after. Oh, we’re under artillery fire? Well, you better go take care of that so I can get this dude to a biobed.

Spock notices that the attackers are moving, so he makes a run for it over to Kirk, who’s found a mortar in the arsenal. That’s convenient. Spock tells Kirk that the attackers have locked onto them and are making for the aforementioned higher ground. Then he sees that his tricorder is smoking. That seems bad.

[ID: Kirk and Spock, covered in dirt, kneeling in a crater with a mortar and box of round blue grenades. Spock is holding up a smoking tricorder and saying, “They’ve locked on to my tricorder,” with a somewhat offended expression on his face.]

He throws it away and it promptly explodes. Huh. Apparently tricorders are made by Samsung.

Kirk calls for Lang, but it’s Kelowitz who rolls into the crater a moment later. He grimly tells Kirk that they got Lang. No, not Lang! Lang, we hardly knew ye!

Kelowitz hasn’t seen the enemy himself, but he gives an estimate of where he thinks they might be. Kirk prepares to load one of the jawbreaker-looking grenades, which Kelowitz is a little dubious about using at this range. Kirk is just kind of like “eh, it’ll hurt them more than it’ll hurt us.”

The grenade goes off with a big ol’ boom, and when the smoke clears and the three of them stand up again, the shelling seems to have stopped. A moment later Sulu calls to say that the enemy ship is retreating, and that their sensors show it just used its transporters. Evidently the attackers didn’t like the look of that grenade and decided to skedaddle. Also, hang on, weren’t you leaving orbit, Sulu? What’s the range on these communicators?

At any rate it looks like they can finally drop the shields, so Kirk orders them to beam up the landing party and beam down thirty medical personnel to search the ruins for any other survivors. Thirty medical personnel? You have thirty medical personnel? Where have they all been hiding? Does McCoy know about this?

Sometime later, a captain’s log informs us that they made it back and are now following the alien ship, which is headed toward an unknown part of the galaxy, while Kirk, Spock and McCoy are talking to the injured guy in Sickbay. He says their scanners picked up a ship approaching, which didn’t surprise them because ships come through all the time to use their facilities. Given they’re on the very edge of known space one wonders why there are so many ships passing through, but anyway, this one was looking all fine and normal until it suddenly started attacking without warning. It knocked out their phaser batteries with its first salvo, leaving them helpless as it proceeded to lay waste to the colony. They called the ship begging to surrender, telling them there were women and children in the colony, but the attackers ignored them. He doesn’t have any idea why anyone would attack them, because the colony didn’t have anything anyone would want. Throughout this the actor is tossing his head back and forth a little too much; at some point it goes from looking like he’s very distressed to looking like something came loose in his neck.

Kirk asks about the messages the Enterprise got and the guy confirms that they didn’t send them. Then he starts ranting and raving about why, why, why did they do it, there has to be a reason, THERE HAS TO BE A REASON!

Later, Kirk is talking to Spock in his quarters about how this whole thing was obviously a trap to lure the Enterprise in because it’s the only protection for this part of the Federation (yes, they finally came up with a name for the Federation). Sorry, hang on—one ship is the only protection for a whole border area of the Federation? How much protection can that ship possibly offer, especially when it’s constantly scooting around the galaxy doing all manner of other things?

Spock points out that they have no actual proof that this is an invasion and that there could be other explanations, but Kirk doesn’t wanna hear it. Spock looks like he’s going to argue for a second, but then just says that they’ll have to make sure the alien ship doesn’t make it home, in that case. Kirk says that he intends to do that. “If we can keep them in the dark,” he says, “they’ll never dare move against us.” Uh, they already did move against you, though? And they could hardly have been any more in the dark at the time than they are now.

Despite Spock still looking unhappy, Kirk orders Sulu to overtake the other vessel and lock on phaser banks. After the break, we move up to the bridge, where one of the helmsmen says that they’re now out of explored space. Kirk asks Spock what he knows about this neck of the cosmos and Spock says they’ve got pretty much nuthin. Just some unsubstantiated rumors (or “space legends” which are like regular legends but in space) about strange signals and possibly some intelligent life.

Sulu says the alien ship has sped up to warp six. Kirk orders the Enterprise to speed up to warp seven. Everyone’s shocked at this. Spock points out that this is dangerous—or, as Scotty puts it, “We’ll either catch them or blow up.” But Kirk has never listened to a safety warning in his life and he’s not about to start now.

Spock comes over quietly to make a plea for maybe not blowing the aliens out of the sky, perhaps we could just chase them off? Kirk sternly tells him no, because they’re the only policemen around here, and a crime has been committed, which means that they now have to personally chase the criminals down and execute them. That’s what police are for, right?

This all feels a little bit extreme for Kirk, to be honest. That he would be furious and horrified after witnessing what happened to the colony is perfectly reasonable, of course. That he would want to see justice done, and feel a need to act quickly as the only representative of the Federation around, sure. But Kirk’s just not really the type to run forward in a bloodlust like this. I mean, he watched an established enemy of the Federation break a century-long treaty and obliterate several manned bases in what was most definitely a premeditated act of war, and he reacted more calmly and deliberately than this, with concern for the ramifications of the situation even as he was chasing down the attackers. We’ve seen him offer mercy to an alien that (apparently) had every intention of destroying the Enterprise, and ruminate extensively over how best to deal with a man he suspected of being a mass murderer. We saw him be kind to the literal embodiment of his own dark side. Here he not only charges off with every intent to destroy the alien ship without even sending a hail, he scolds Spock for suggesting anything else. It just doesn’t ring true to me. I suspect this is because the message this episode is going for is about as subtle as a brick to the head, and Kirk acting with more complex characterization would have gotten in the way of that.

The alien ship goes to warp seven, so Kirk orders them to go to warp eight, which Scotty takes as a personal insult, judging by his expression. Careful there, Kirk. If you go too fast you might overshoot them entirely.

[ID: A gif from Spaceballs showing a ship accelerating into space, signs lighting up saying LIGHT SPEED--RIDICULOUS SPEED--LUDICROUS SPEED and then the ship overtaking another ship, leaving a plaid pattern, while one of the occupants incredulously says, “They’ve gone to plaid.” ]

Eventually they start to close in on the other ship, as they approach an unknown solar system. Apparently that’s not home base for the aliens, because they’re headed away from it. It seems that someone lives there, though, because Uhura reports that the Enterprise is being scanned from the system. There’s nothing hostile about the scans, but they are steadily increasing in intensity.

Before we can figure that one out, something even more weird happens: the alien ship starts slowing down. All the way down: from warp seven to warp six, five, four, three, two, one, sublight annnnnnd finally a complete stop.

Kirk thinks this is finally their chance and orders Sulu to power up phasers and move in for the kill. But then suddenly there’s a Shake. Well, in this case, really more of a hard lean, as, just like the alien ship, the Enterprise also screeches to a halt. Metaphorically screeches. There’s no sound in space. But you know what I mean.

[ID: The darkened bridge of the Enterprise tilting forward, with Kirk and the helmsmen leaning against the helm while Spock and Scotty hang onto the railings. Sulu is saying, “Warp six...warp five...” ]

Once everyone detangles themselves from the railings, the reports start to come in: there’s no apparent damage and the life support is still working fine, but the phaser guys report that they suddenly have no power, and Scotty says the engines are dead cold. Something is holding them in place, something that seems to be coming from that solar system over there. Kirk protests that this is impossible, but Spock points out that it obviously isn’t because, uh, it’s happening.

Then the lights start pulsing and the viewscreen turns to a bunch of swirly colors.

[ID: Kirk standing behind the helmsman on the bridge, looking at the viewscreen, which is showing a swirl of green, red, blue and yellow lights.]

The colors say that they are the Metrons, and the Enterprise is one of two ships that have come into their space on a mission of violence, which is not permissible. Well it might have been nice if you’d given any kind of indication of that before we got here. Why are all these super-advanced alien civilizations so bad at marking their territory boundaries? I know that’s hard in space but with all the technology these guys usually have you’d think they could make an effort.

The Metrons then go on to say that they’ve scanned the ship and learned that these violent tendencies are inherent to the occupants. I guess they read the ‘Humans: We’re Super Violent’ file on the ship computers, right next to the ‘Humans: We Hate Captivity’ one that the Talosians read. Really, you have to wonder why they keep all this philosophical information on the ship. Anyway, the Metrons say they’re going to resolve this conflict in the way most suited to the ‘limited mentalities’ of those involved. They tell Kirk that he and the captain of the other ship, which belongs to a race called the Gorn, are going to be taken to a specially prepared planet to settle their dispute there. They’ll even be given a recording-chronicling device in the hopes that maybe a record of this will dissuade others from entering this system. Hey, you know what I bet would really help dissuade others from entering your system? Giving any indication that it’s your system and you don’t want people in it before they randomly stumble across it.

Kirk asks the Metrons what makes them think they can interfere, and they say, “It is you who are interfering. We are simply putting a stop to it.” Excuse me? Two groups engaged in a conflict between the two of them, that didn’t involve you at all, came close to you and you immediately took control of the situation and decided to force them to resolve it in a way that you thought was best. What, exactly, was the Enterprise ‘interfering’ with here, and where do you get off saying you aren’t? I’m not saying this conflict is a good thing, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Metrons are very much interfering in it, particularly given that they obviously have the power to just make any ships coming near their territory just stop and turn around if that was all they wanted.

They go on to say that this planet has sufficient resources for either combatant to make lethal weapons to kill the other. Whoever wins can go on their way unharmed; whoever loses will be destroyed along with their ship “in the interests of peace.” What...why do you think that will preserve peace?? And what happened to acts of violence not being permissible? Killing an entire ship full of people is sure an act of violence if I ever heard of one. For that matter, so is forcing two people to fight to the death. I guess violence is only bad if the lesser people do it.

The Metrons say there will be no argument, and just like that, Kirk disappears from the bridge. Man, you just can’t go anywhere in this galaxy without Superior Aliens vanishing you right off your ship.

Kirk finds himself suddenly in the middle of a rocky desert, facing down the captain of the Gorn ship. Turns out the Gorn look like lizard people with disco-ball eyes.

[ID: An over the shoulder shot of Kirk in a desert facing a muscled green lizard-like alien wearing only fingerless leather gloves and a red and gold patterned tunic sort of thing.]

After the break, Kirk starts telling us about how he’s been “placed on the surface of an asteroid” by the Metrons. Not as a captain’s log or anything, he’s just narrating. Out of force of habit, I guess. Also, evidently he was zoning out during the monologue, because the Metrons said they were putting him on a planet, not an asteroid.

If said planet/asteroid seems familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen it before: this was shot at the Vasquez Rocks, a national park in California which has been a shooting location for so many films, TV shows, and music videos, there’s an entire Wikipedia page dedicated just to listing them. We saw the Vasquez Rocks previously in Shore Leave, and we’ll see them two more times in TOS; they also showed up once in Next Generation, twice in Voyager, once in Enterprise, and in Star Trek IV, Star Trek (2009), and Star Trek Into Darkness. Whew! The place is so associated with Star Trek in particular that the most prominent and recognizable rock formation has become unofficially known as Kirk’s Rock.

Anyway, enough about rocks. Back to the action (such as it is). Kirk says that he’s going to have to fight to remember that the Gorn is an advanced and formidable opponent, because “like most humans I seem to have an instinctive revulsion to reptiles.” Most humans? Some humans do, sure, but if the amount of snake pictures I see on tumblr is anything to go by, most is a reach. Although the Gorn does make a noise uncomfortably similar to a Minecraft spider, which I think you would get a lot more people to admit to having a revulsion to. Including me.

The Gorn (who is never given a name, so let’s call them Gornzilla) breaks off a hefty branch from a nearby tree and starts advancing on Kirk. Kirk breaks off a much smaller tree branch and looks at it for a moment before realizing that’s not gonna do and throwing it aside. Fortunately he’s able to put the tree between him and Gornzilla in time for their branch to come down on the tree instead of him, breaking it in the process.

Well, now that they’ve both lost their sticks, Kirk and Gornzilla will have to try and kill each other like civilized people: barehanded. Of course, TOS fight scenes are bad enough when none of the combatants are wearing stiff, awkward, mobility and vision-restricting costumes, so you can just about imagine how bad this one is. Here’s a sample:

[ID: A gif showing Kirk stiffly and awkwardly slamming both fists into the Gorn while the Gorn flails around trying to hit him.]

Kirk eventually breaks away from the terrible grappling and runs up the hill a little, where he hefts up a rock and, with a great effort, throws it at Gornzilla. It hits Gornzilla square in the chest...and bounces off, without any noticeable effect at all. Gornzilla then picks up a much bigger rock and throws it at Kirk. That one misses—this story would have been a lot shorter and a lot less PG-rated if it hadn’t. At that point Kirk decides that discretion is the better part of valor and takes off into the hills.

Back up on the Enterprise, Spock is conferring with Scotty, suggesting various things they could try to get the ship moving. But, of course, Scotty’s already tried all of those, and probably about two dozen other things as well, none of which have worked. And Uhura still doesn’t have any information about the Metrons or what force is holding them in place. Spock looks tired.

Down on the planet or asteroid or whatever we’re calling it, Kirk has found a place to hunker down for a moment and talk into the recording device that the Metrons gave him. After asking anyone who finds the device to return it to Starfleet—sure, that seems likely to happen—he relates how he’s locked in combat with the Gorn. The Gorn is much stronger than him, Kirk notes, but he has the advantage when it comes to agility—and, he hopes, cleverness. What Kirk doesn’t realize is that Gornzilla can hear him on their device, and they don’t look too impressed with his opinion of his own cleverness.

[ID: The Gorn poking their head up from a rock, communicator device in one hand, while Kirk says, “He’s not agile.”]

uh, rude

Kirk seems to assume Gornzilla is male, which seems a bit silly to me; even putting aside how complicated gender is for humans, and even assuming this unknown alien race has anything like a gender division that would make sense to us—the Gorn are reptiles. How well could you tell if a lizard was male or female by looking at it from a distance? (Don’t answer that if you’re a herpetologist.)

Regardless of Gornzilla’s gender, Kirk knows that he’s got to find one of those weapons the Metrons were talking about, because “barehanded...against the Gorn...I have no chance.” Well, it might help if you didn’t stop to monologue dramatically every five minutes. Just a bit of friendly advice there.

Meanwhile, McCoy comes up to the bridge to ask what in the heck is going on this time, and what Spock plans to do about it. Spock tells him he’s going to do nothing, because that’s all he can do about it. And, indeed, I can tell you now that nobody on the ship is going to accomplish anything for the rest of the story. They’re just there to occasionally react to break up the action.

Kirk continues running around looking for weapons, but aside from a lot of rocks all he finds is some tall bamboo-looking plants. Gornzilla, on the other hand, is being more proactive: they’ve found some vines and are making some kind of net out of them.

Next, Kirk stumbles across some big ol’ diamonds, just kind of spilling out of a crack in the ground as, y’know, diamonds do.

[ID: Kirk leaning against a rock formation and looking at a vein of diamonds spilling onto the ground.]

“man, I could make a rad pickaxe out of these”

Kirk stops to glumly narrate into his recorder about how he’s found “an incredible fortune in stones...yet I would trade them all for a hand phaser.” An incredible fortune in stones? In the 23rd century? Diamonds are super common in space (not to mention possible to artificially create with technology we have now), so one would think the price would have dropped a bit by then. Even De Beers could (hopefully) only do so much to enforce scarcity once we start finding planets full of the things.

Having loudly announced the uselessness of diamonds to the world, Kirk heads up the hill, where he sees Gornzilla chipping out a stone knife. I gotta say, Kirk’s whole superior cleverness thing isn’t looking too great right now, considering all he’s done is run around and complain about how he can’t find any weapons, while at least Gornzilla is doing something.

But perhaps Kirk’s chance is about to come, because just then he spots something: a large rock, conveniently positioned near the edge of an incline. Which Gornzilla is almost directly underneath.

Well, it doesn’t take too much cleverness to figure that one out. Kirk climbs up the incline and starts pushing.

[ID: Kirk pushing a boulder up the side of a sharply angled incline.]

IT’S OVER GORN, I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND

With a lot of effort, Kirk manages to push the boulder off the cliff, and with quite amazing precision it pinballs directly into Gornzilla, knocking them down and pinning them under it. Triumphant, Kirk runs down the mountain to get a closer look. This turns out to be a bad idea, because Gornzilla is not nearly as dead as they look. They manage to push the rock off of them and get up, apparently not significantly set back by any of this. The tables quickly get turned as they advance on Kirk, who has to turn and run once again.

Unfortunately, this time Kirk fails his spot check, and runs straight into a tripwire (well, a tripvine, more accurately) that dumps a whole bunch of rocks on him, leaving him trapped and struggling while Gornzilla advances, knife at the ready. That would be the end for Kirk if Gornzilla didn’t make one fatal mistake: moving away the biggest boulder trapping Kirk to get a better shot at him, which allows Kirk to finally squirm free of the trap and escape, though not without an injured leg.

On the ship, Spock tries to call the Metrons, begging them for a conference. They don’t respond. Jerks.

Rather the worse for wear now, Kirk limps up to a rock with a lot of thick yellow dust on it and stops to monologue about it. Kirk. Buddy. Please. Focus, here. He identifies the dust as sulfur, which is not of much interest to him because he’s still trying to find the weapon that the Metrons mentioned. Considering your opponent just came real dang close to killing you with nothing but some vines and rocks, it might be time to consider that the Metrons meant for the combatants to use actual parts of the environment to make weapons, instead of just wandering around the hills looking for a treasure chest full of guns.

Still, Kirk thinks there is something notable about sulfur. “Something...very old, if only I could remember...” Well, if you mix it with brimstone, you get Hell, or so I’ve heard. Or at least a very bad smell.

On the bridge, McCoy is leaning on the captain’s chair despite Spock’s best efforts to sit in it and muttering about how it’s “inconceivable” that they’re immobilized like this, because this episode didn’t know what else to do with McCoy. Which is a bit odd I think, because while there are some episodes where it would be understandable to struggle to find a role for a given character, this is not one of them. This is an episode with a.) a big moral dilemma, and b.) clear tension about and between Kirk, his choices, the other characters, and the ultimate message of the episode. That is McCoy’s jam. McCoy has both strong and passionate views about the preservation of life, and absolutely no compunctions about yelling at his best friend and ranking officer if he thinks he needs to. He was there to tell Kirk not to act in vengeance against Kodos; he was there to counsel Kirk against doing something that could start a war with the Romulans; that he didn’t storm up to the bridge and chew Kirk’s ear off for going in guns blazing against the Gorn is just not believable to me. But that would have gotten in the way of the whole “humans bad and violent” plot, and taken up valuable fight scene time, so McCoy just has to lurk on the bridge looking grumpy for the rest of the episode.

Suddenly, the screen lights up again as the Metrons return. Or the Metron? To be honest I don’t really know if “we are the Metrons” means that the Metrons are a hivemind kind of thing, or if there just happens to be one of them speaking for the whole group.

Anyway, the Metron or Metrons say that Kirk is losing the battle, so his crew should make whatever memorial arrangements they have in their culture now because they don’t have much time left. McCoy yells at them to stop all this nonsense “in the name of civilization” but the Metron(s) reply that the humans’ violent intent and actions demonstrate that they are not civilized. Attacking someone who attacked you, very uncivilized. Now, grabbing a couple of people who were doing something you don’t approve of, making them fight to the death, and then killing the four hundred or so people associated with whoever lost—that’s civilized. After all the Metrons are Super Advanced and they said so, so it must be true.

But, the Metron(s) say, they are not without compassion and recognize that it is possible the crew may have feelings towards their captain (possible? if there were any more feelings towards Kirk on this ship it would explode), so they’re going to start streaming the events on the planet to the viewscreen so the crew can watch their captain die. That...sure is compassionate.

The viewscreen then changes to show them Kirk kneeling in the dirt next to a rock with a bunch of white stuff on it, while Gornzilla approaches him ominously. McCoy bemoans that they have no way of contacting Kirk, which Spock agrees with, because unless he’s mistaken the white stuff on the rocks is potassium nitrate. No, now, hold on, I’m calling bullshit on that one, Spock. Unless your superior Vulcan vision comes with a built-in spectrograph, how in the hell can you tell that that’s potassium nitrate just by looking at it? It’s just white powder. A lot of stuff looks like white powder. That could be cocaine for all you know.

“So?” McCoy asks. “Perhaps nothing, doctor,” Spock says, “perhaps everything.” Thanks, that’s helpful.

Meanwhile Kirk, being the dignified and sensible captain that he is, is licking the white stuff off his hand. Potassium nitrate, also known as saltpeter, isn’t poisonous—in fact it’s commonly added to food—but I still don’t recommend licking unidentified white powders to find out what they are. There’s a whole lot of ways that can go extremely wrong. Also I don’t know why Kirk would know what saltpeter tastes like, but apparently he does, because he grins triumphantly and sets out at a limp-run across the desert.

As he’s on his way, though, Kirk hears a deep, slithery kind of voice (provided by our familiar friend Ted Cassidy in his last TOS role) saying, “Earthling captain...” “Who is this, the Metron?” Kirk replies. Gee, I don’t know, Kirk, who could that voice that sounds exactly like you’d expect a lizard person to sound like be? Probably the person he’s already heard talking, who didn’t sound exactly like that, right?

No, of course not. It’s Gornzilla, and they inform Kirk that they’ve heard everything he said into his device. WHOOPS.

Gornzilla tells Kirk that they weary of the chase, and if he waits for them they’ll be merciful and quick. “Like you were at Cestus 3?” Kirk asks. Gornzilla retorts that the Federation was invading and establishing an outpost in the Gorns’ space, and that all they were doing was destroying invaders. Hearing this from the ship, McCoy is aghast, and wonders out loud if it could be true that Cestus 3 was in Gorn space. Spock admits that it could be since they know very little about that section of the galaxy. “Then we could be in the wrong,” McCoy says.

Okay, hold the phone here. Yes, it’s entirely possible that the Federation established a colony in what the Gorn considered to be their territory. But that doesn’t change the fact that the Gorns’ first response was to slaughter the entire colony without warning. They not only made no effort to communicate with the Federation first, they completely ignored said colony surrendering and begging for their lives. Then they set up a trap designed to draw in what is apparently (illogically, but still) the only protection for that entire section of space, with intent to destroy said vessel and its crew. So we can’t just say the Gorn were ignorant of what the Federation is and didn’t understand the surrender—they obviously know enough about humans to fake a convincing message to them! And it’s not like the Federation knew it was their territory and decided to move in anyway. They had no idea there was any sapient life in that area, let alone sapient life that saw the whole place as theirs. I get that it’s not exactly easy to establish clear borders in space, but by that same token you have to have some awareness that other people are not necessarily going to be aware of what is and isn’t your territory, because they have no way of knowing that! So no, I don’t think that the Gorn are in the right. If you had a big stretch of property and you didn’t mark the boundaries of it in any way, then yes, you could claim that someone wandering onto it would be trespassing, but that wouldn’t make you in the right for immediately shooting them in the head without even talking to them. And then luring the local police over so you could shoot them too before they could do anything about it.

Kirk, at least, doesn’t appear to have ethical quandaries foremost on his mind at the moment. Instead he’s returned to the bamboo-like plants, where he finds a particularly big hollow chunk of one. He then returns to the deposits of sulfur and nitrate, dropping a fistful of each into the bamboo tube, along with some of the diamonds. All he needs now, Spock tells us, is some coal, because he’s making gunpowder. Which is usually made with charcoal, not coal, but that’s probably well down the list of problems with this plan.

Fortunately for Kirk, coal is one of the many minerals easily found laying around on the surface of this planet, so he adds some of that to his collection. This is starting to feel more and more like a quest in a video game. I half expect Kirk to whip out a crafting table to combine all his ingredients on. But no, he just dumps it all out on a rock and mixes up the various powders. How Kirk knows the correct proportions for gunpowder is a mystery to me; how many people do you think could give the correct proportions for gunpowder now, when we actually still use the stuff? Aside from chemists, or gunsmiths, or history enthusiasts or—look, I stand by my point.

Gunpowder, or something adjacent to gunpowder, assembled, Kirk then tears a strip off his pants (from the end of his pants. settle down there) and, as Gornzilla approaches, starts hitting the Metron device onto the rock, trying to catch a spark onto the fabric. He gets one just in time, lights his makeshift cannon, and Gornzilla gets an explosion of diamond chunks in the chest.

[ID: Kirk kneeling next to his makeshift bamboo cannon, which has just emitted a big cloud of smoke.]

And yes, the Mythbusters tested this one. Shockingly, they concluded that it would not work, firstly because it’s just not possible to hand-mix gunpowder in that way and get anything strong enough to actually explode; and secondly, if you did put working gunpowder in a hunk of bamboo and light it, the whole thing would just blow up in your face. Even after significantly reinforcing the bamboo, they couldn’t get a result that wouldn’t have killed Kirk along with Gornzilla. Don’t try this at home, is what I’m saying. For a lot of reasons, really.

With his opponent down, Kirk picks up Gornzilla’s stone knife and moves in for the coup de grace. But then he hesitates and says—no. He won’t do it. The Metrons, he yells up to the sky, will have to get their entertainment somewhere else.

At this, Gornzilla suddenly disappears, and this punk shows up.

[ID: A human-looking alien with short blonde hair, wearing a very sparkly white dress/toga and lacing around their ankles, standing in front of some rocks.]

pictured: the voice of the Metrons, or the Metronatron

The Metron says that by sparing Gornzilla, Kirk demonstrated the ‘advanced trait’ of mercy, which the Metrons didn’t realize humans were capable of. Really? All that scanning of the ship records didn’t give you any hint that humans were capable of mercy? You guys sure didn’t look very hard before deciding to condemn everyone on the ship, huh?

So the Metrons aren’t going to destroy Kirk and the Enterprise after all, because it wouldn’t be...civilized, the Metron says with a smirk. Fuck off.

Then they say that they sent Gornzilla back to their ship and offer to destroy them for Kirk, but he says no, that won’t be necessary, because they’re probably going to die anyway from the diamond chunks in their internal organs maybe the humans and Gorn can talk and reach an agreement. Which the Gorn have shown absolutely no interest in doing, but cool.

“There is hope for you,” the Metron says. “Perhaps, in several thousand years, your people and mine shall meet to reach an agreement.” Yeah, maybe several thousand years from now your people will have finally stopped being such insufferable dicks.

With that, Kirk is magicked back to the Enterprise, and I guess they healed him up for good measure because he suddenly looks a lot less beat up. He lets everyone cheer and crowd around him in relief for a minute before telling them to get back to their posts so they can get outta here. But when Sulu prepares to do so, he exclaims that they’ve somehow been transported “clear across the galaxy—five hundred parsecs from where we are, I mean, were.” The galaxy is actually about thirty-four thousand parsecs across, but—you know what, never mind. Let’s just go.

Kirk tells him not to worry about it, just head back to Cestus 3. As Sulu does so, Spock comes over and tells Kirk that they lost the picture after Kirk fired the cannon off, so he’s rather curious about what happened after that. Instead of answering that question Kirk says, “We’re a rather promising species, Mr. Spock, did you know that?” “I’ve frequently had my doubts.” Thanks Spock.

“Never mind, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says, “it doesn’t make much sense to me either.” Spock is like “okay but...could you give me a straight answer” and Kirk is like “NOPE” and then the episode ends.

Arena is often regarded as a classic Star Trek episode, and hey, I’m not saying that Kirk shooting a lizard-person with a handmade bamboo gun isn’t absolutely classic Star Trek in every way, or that the extended struggle between Kirk and an inscrutable alien among a rocky and treacherous landscape isn’t enjoyable (albeit sometimes for other reasons than were intended). But, as you may have gotten just a little hint of by now, the Metrons piss me off.

For one thing, their blatant hypocrisy is staggering. Even the thought of committing violence is apparently a sign of being uncivilized—and, in their books, ‘uncivilized’ seems to mean ‘not worthy of living’--but for them to go all Hunger Games on the alleged criminals is okay for some reason?

Let me put it this way: I have two cats. These cats do not get along. One of them is a huge bully who will immediately try to pick a fight with the other one the moment he sees her. Now, I’m not gonna go calling myself superior to anything, but I can say with some confidence that I am smarter and more powerful than my cats. I don’t think the bully cat has any kind of righteous cause against the other cat, and I don’t approve of him fighting with her. Cat fights are, one might say, not permissible in my house, or at least strongly discouraged. But I know enough about cats to be quite sure that they are never going to sit down and have diplomatic talks and come to a peaceful agreement about their dispute, whatever the hell it is. In general, I don’t think they’re ever going to resolve this conflict in any way that I would like them to.

So was my response to this to go “well, if violence is all you understand, violence is what you’ll get” and lock them in a room until one of them killed the other one? OF COURSE NOT. If I did something like that you’d think I was incredibly cruel, and you would be absolutely right. Instead, since I recognize they aren’t ever going to like each other, I keep them separated so they don’t fight. Because I am smarter and more powerful than my cats, I accept that I have the responsibility to use that power to help them and take care of them. That may mean sometimes doing things they don’t like or not letting them do things they would like, but only because I think it’s in their best interests. And those are cats. Not sapient beings with spacefaring civilizations!

Throughout the episode we’re just supposed to accept that the Metrons are Superior and Very Advanced, even though the only proof we have of that is that the Metrons themselves said so. Yes, they’re obviously more powerful than humans, but that doesn’t make them better. It doesn’t give them the right to do whatever they want to anyone else they encounter.

I know the central theme behind TOS was the idea that humanity could and would get better. And I get that, I really do. I look at the news every day and I desperately want us to get better. I want to imagine that future. And I like it when Trek says, look, we can get better in the future, by being less bigoted, by looking after each other, by being open-minded and curious and accepting and caring. I don’t like it when Trek portrays morality as some kind of linear system where us puny humans are a lowly level one or whatever, but some day maybe we can work our way up to level ten like the Very Smart and Superior and Advanced aliens that occasionally show up to look down on us. Because, not to get all allegorical, but our history and our present is full of groups who declared that they were Very Smart and Superior and More Advanced than other groups, and that therefore it was okay for them to do whatever they wanted. It’s never turned out well for the other groups.

Which is why I really don’t wanna call the Metrons godlike beings, but they do fit into that general category of TOS entities, so, ugh, fine.

TREK TROPE TALLY: We’ve got one redshirt death and one blueshirt death with O’Herlihy and Lang, who thought they were gonna get a nice dinner, the poor bastards. And we’ve got--sigh--another case of Godlike Beings. But no shirt rips, which is surprising given everything Kirk got up to in this episode. Next time we’ll be hittin’ the time vortex with Tomorrow Is Yesterday.

#star trek #star trek TOS #star trek season one #1.18 Arena #recap tag #star trek TOS recaps #1.18 Arena recap

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loadzone118 · 3 years

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Allow Apps Downloaded From Anywhere Mac Terminal

Windows 10 Allow Downloaded Apps

Allow Apps Downloaded From Mac

Apple is obsessed with privacy and security which is a good thing for us, the end-users. By default, macOS allows you to only run apps and software that are downloaded from the Mac App Store or identified developers. But if you want to open an app from an unidentified developer in macOS, then here are two ways to do so.

Terminal Is At Your Command to Open apps Downloaded from Anywhere Use Terminal to update our Security & Privacy options to include the checkbox allowing us to open apps downloaded from anywhere. And it’s actually pretty simple to make this modification. Although simple, for the average mac user this step is not recommended. “Allow apps downloaded from” has three settings: Mac App Store: The Mac will only run apps downloaded from the Mac App Store. The major change is that Apple removed the Anywhere setting. Allow apps downloaded from Anywhere in macOS What changing the command in Terminal does is that it adds the third option to Gatekeeper. Therefore, in macOS Catalina, the option of installing apps from anywhere is not missing; it is just hidden. With just a few clicks you can find it and make use of it. However, if you would like to change the security settings of your Mac (as far as app launching is concerned), then you will have to disable Gatekeeper and turn on Allow apps downloaded from to: Anywhere. How to Allow All Unknown Apps to Open on Mac Running macOS Catalina. Open Terminal on your Mac by going into Launchpad – Other. Advanced Mac users may wish to allow a third option, which is the ability to open and allow apps downloaded from anywhere in macOS Sierra. To be clear, the “Allow applications downloaded from anywhere” option is hidden by default in Gatekeeper for macOS Sierra.

However, before we begin, a word of caution! It is a common and prevalent practice to insert harmful code and malware into apps and distribute/redistribute them. So, it is quite possible that a shady app that you torrented or got from an unverified developer might be infected and dangerous. If you understand the consequences and still want to proceed, here is how to override your security settings and open an app anyway from the unidentified developer in macOS.

How to Allow and Open App from Unidentified Developer in macOS

Step #1. Launch Finder on your Mac and locate the app you want to open. You are most likely to find this app in Downloads, Desktop or Applications folder.

Note: Do not use Launchpad as Launchpad does not allow a shortcut menu on apps.

Step #2.Control-click (hold the Control button and click) on the app icon.

Step #3. Now click on Open from the above list. Confirm if asked again to whether open the app or not.

You will see that the unidentified app has opened. From now onwards, this app is saved as an exception to your security settings. Anytime in the future, you can open it by double-clicking just like you open other known and registered apps. As mentioned in the previous line, this does not change the whole relevant security settings of your Mac but merely creates an exception for this particular app. Everything else is just as secure as it was.

Additional Method: If you don’t follow the above steps and simply double click an unidentified app and it does not open and shows a popup similar to the one below.

Go to System Preferences – Security and Privacy and click on the Open Anyway option. Enter your Mac’s password if asked.

The above methods were relatively secure, easy, and swift to open an unidentified app. It hardly took a few clicks. However, if you would like to change the security settings of your Mac (as far as app launching is concerned), then you will have to disable Gatekeeper and turn on Allow apps downloaded from to: Anywhere.

How to Allow All Unknown Apps to Open on Mac Running macOS Catalina

Step#1. Open Terminal on your Mac by going into Launchpad – Other. Or you may press together Command(⌘) + Space Bar to open Spotlight Search, type Terminal and hit enter.

Step #2. Make sure System Preferences is not open. If it is, close it. In the Terminal type the following command and hit enter.

sudo spctl ––master-disable

Step #3. Enter your Mac’s password and hit enter. Note that when you type the password it won’t be visible. You may close Terminal now.

Step #4. Launch System Preferences from your Dock or by clicking on Apple Logo – System Preferences. Now click on Security and Privacy.

Step #5. Under the General tab, you might see that under ‘Allow apps downloaded from’, ‘Anywhere’ is chosen. If not, then from the bottom left, click on the closed padlock icon and enter your Mac’s Password.

Step #6. From under Allow apps downloaded from: choose Anywhere. Click on Allow From Anywhere to confirm. Click on the open padlock to prevent further changes as our motive has been achieved.

From now onwards your Mac will open all apps irrespective of whether it is downloaded from App Store, App Store and identified developers or any random developer. Please know that this is dangerous for the security and safety of your Mac and your private data. So only do this if you know what you are into. For most ordinary people, it is advised that you do not go this route. Use the first method instead.

To turn Gatekeeper back on and return everything to the default state:

Open Terminal and type the following command and hit the enter key. Input your Mac’s password to confirm. Prison school ova dub.

sudo spctl –master-enable

Are All Apps from Unidentified Developers Dangerous?

No. This is not necessarily the case. As Apple puts it, there may be some apps that were written before developer ID registration began. As a result, the app may not have been reviewed, and thus macOS can’t check whether the app has been modified or broken since it was released. Similarly, suppose you or your developer friend or someone you have been following for long and trust, build a simple app as a hobby. Is it dangerous? No! It is just not registered with Apple.

The safest approach to install an app from an unidentified developer is by finding a similar alternative app from the Mac App Store or identified developer. Sometimes paying for a similar app may also be a sensible solution than using a free unknown app. But if nothing works for you overriding the security settings and allowing apps from unidentified developers in macOS is a solution. In this sense, macOS is more flexible than iOS.

You may like to read:

The founder of iGeeksBlog, Dhvanesh, is an Apple aficionado, who cannot stand even a slight innuendo about Apple products. He dons the cap of editor-in-chief to make sure that articles match the quality standard before they are published.

https://www.igeeksblog.com/author/dhvanesh/

In recent software updates, Apple has included more stringent security measures in its OS with the goal of better protecting your Mac from malware. While this gives you an added layer of protection, it also makes it more difficult to open applications that Apple is not familiar with (such as those not in the App Store or those created by unidentified developers).

While it may be tricky, opening these apps is possible. Here, we’ll explain the reasoning behind Apple’s enhanced security, show you how to allow any and all apps on your Mac, and even briefly discuss keeping yourself safe from malware.

What does it mean to be able to download apps from anywhere?

Apple puts many safety measures in place in order to reduce users’ chances of being infected by viruses and other forms of malware. This is why Apple is known as a “closed platform”: It’s strict about what apps it allows to be easily downloaded onto and accessed from Apple devices.

The apps you can download onto an Apple device are generally limited to those that can be found in the App Store because they’re seen as more secure — they’re created by developers that Apple trusts and have been checked by Apple for malware.

Folder Lock is a software that can lock directories and files. This application enables. Protected Folder; If this is your first visit, be sure to check out the FAQs of the Forum by clicking the link. You may have to register before you can post: click the Register link or the Sign Up link above to proceed. To start viewing messages, select the forum that you want to visit from the sections below. Protected Folder optimized engine to let it keep locking files even if the PC is suffering malicious attack. New and Important Changes in Protected Folder As a powerful files protection tool, Protected Folder can protect your important files and data from theft, loss or leaks. And updates below make this folder locker get more effective. Iobit folder lock. Folder Lock lets you password-protect your personal files, photos, videos, documents, contacts, wallet cards, notes and audio recordings in your iPhone. Home Resources IObit Password Folder Protects And Locks Windows Folder IObit Password Folder Protects And Locks Windows Folder Recently, IObit released a new software, IObit Password Folder, to protect and lock Windows Folders mainly in Windows 7, Vista, XP, 2000.

In order to check an app’s safety, Apple uses a software called Gatekeeper.

Gatekeeper is Apple’s program that recognizes whether an app has been downloaded from the App Store. This program warns you when you’ve downloaded and attempted to run software from another location for the first time.

Downloading apps from anywhere, then, means accessing and using apps that either:

Don’t come from the App store

Were created by unidentified developers

It’s a good idea to know how to download and access these kinds of applications. So many of the great apps out there simply aren’t available on the App Store. This is a crucial skill for those who rely on apps that aren’t necessarily meant for Macs (such as Microsoft software), as well as those who have recently begun using Apple devices and want to be able to use non-iOS/macOS apps.

Luckily, your Mac does allow you to download apps from anywhere — it just requires a few more steps.

How to download apps that aren’t on the App Store or come from unidentified developers

There are two main ways to give your Mac access to a broader range of apps:

Set your Mac to allow you to open apps that aren’t from the App Store

Set your Mac to allow apps from unidentified developers

Both of these methods consist of changing your Mac’s Security & Privacy settings to allow you to open apps that haven’t been checked by Gatekeeper. Once you’ve bypassed Gatekeeper, you’ll be able to download and run all the apps you’d like. (To learn how to do this, check out our piece on how to open apps from unidentified developers.)

How to download apps from anywhere

Before macOS Sierra, it was much easier to set your Mac to allow you to download apps from anywhere. You’d simply go to System Preferences > Security & Privacy > General, then under Allow apps to be downloaded from, select Anywhere.

Since new updates to macOs, however, you’ll need to change a few more settings on your Mac in order to do so. Here’s how:

Launch Terminal by going to Finder > Applications > Utilities or by locating it with Spotlight search ((CMD) + (SPACE)).

In Terminal, type the code sudo spctl --master-disable and hit Return. Enter your Mac’s password when prompted.

Go to System Preferences > Security & Privacy > General. At the bottom of the window, you’ll see multiple options under Allow apps to be downloaded from. Select Anywhere to allow your Mac to download any and all apps.

If you later decide that you’d like to return to your Mac’s default settings and no longer allow apps to be downloaded from anywhere, just follow these steps:

Launch Terminal.

Once it’s running, enter the code sudo spctl --master-enable You’ll no longer be able to select Anywhere.

After this is done, you will only be allowed to download apps from the App Store, unless you use the steps mentioned above to access apps from other locations.

How to open Mac apps bypassing Gatekeeper

Windows 10 Allow Downloaded Apps

There is another way to open restricted apps that many Mac users don’t know about.

Open your Applications directory.

Click Finder > Go > Applications.

Now, Control + click on an app you’d like to open.

This way you can open apps no matter where they come from.

How many suspicious apps do you have?

You probably have downloaded apps from all kinds of sources. Some of them (especially, the dubious ones) may install additional components on top of their main functionality. Chances are, you wouldn’t even know.

Such invisible applications are sometimes called launch agents or daemons. They may stay in the background for years. Probably, you have a couple of those lurking on your Mac.

How to check your Mac for hidden background apps

To check it, you can run a free version of CleanMyMac X

CleanMyMac X itself comes from MacPaw, which is a popular Mac developer and its apps are notarized by Apple.

So, download and install a free version of CleanMyMac X.

Click on Optimization and choose Launch Agents

You’ll see background apps you can disable in one click.

In the same app, click on Malware Removal.

When it comes to finding suspicious apps and adware trojans, CleanMyMac X is way ahead of many other antiviruses.

CleanMyMac X will check your computer for all potentially unwanted apps (PUA) and all kinds of malware. It also helps you keep track of malware regularly with a real-time malware monitor.

A free version of CleanMyMac X is available here.

Is it safe to download apps from anywhere?

There’s no guarantee that apps downloaded from outside of the App Store will be safe. As these apps haven’t been vetted for security by Apple, it’s more difficult to confirm whether they’re safe and free of malware.

Because of this, you should be wary in changing your settings to allow apps downloaded from anywhere. Doing so leaves your Mac vulnerable malware and malicious software, as Gatekeeper won’t be able to check if the app downloaded is legitimate (or just malware disguised as the desired software).

The safety of your Mac, then, is in your hands. The best you can do to try to make sure that an app is safe to download is to look into its reviews and the experiences other users have had. Doing your due diligence can help you avoid using untrustworthy apps.

Allow Apps Downloaded From Mac

Downloading anti-virus software is another means of protection, as this software will check whether an app is safe for you. If, when researching all you can about an app, you decide you’d rather not download it, you can opt for a similar app with better reviews or one that is already in the App Store.

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marcuspedersen-nz · 3 years

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2- The White Mountain

(by Ivy Snow)

It was the morning of the 24th of October 2040, a beautiful spring day after the great wash of last night’s rain. At a little after 9:30 a.m. I left the car at Marsden and went the rest of the way on foot. It was a routine job for our most lucrative client, the Accident Compensation Corporation, which is obliged to assist the ailing but at the same time balance its books. People like Joe Rollins asked for more than their fair share, in a crumbling economic landscape he wanted to become a lifer on perpetual support. My task was to make sure he never got on the books, by hook or by crook, and it was to this end that I paid him a visit that morning.

I parked the car on the New River Flat, accessed by a small lane on the western side of Card Creek Bridge. It was about four kilometres from there to his caravan, and I used the old tramway to access his property. I changed from my office clothes into khaki elasto-wave field gear before setting out, swapping high heels for combat boots, and I swallowed down a few comforting refreshers before tucking my hipflask into the inside pocket of my camo jacket. I loaded and holstered my 9mm pistol, safety on, check, and packed into my satchel some spare ammo, check, binoculars, check, camera, check, muesli bars, check, phone into pocket, check. I donned my sunglasses, tied back my hair, and into the wild I went.

I wasn’t expecting trouble, but one should always be prepared for reversals in fortune. Only those who are prepared can take full advantage of opportunities. Joe Rollins was listed as an amber alert, which meant he wasn’t considered to be actually dangerous, but he wasn’t exactly non-threatening either. The word volatile appeared more than once in his file, as did the phrase, “Approach with caution.”

The New River was in medium-high flow from yesterday’s downpour, so I crossed by the wire, pausing for a moment halfway to admire the surge of the dirty brown water. On a normal day it would barely reach above my ankles, and it usually had quite slimy, sluggish water, with green algae and very slippery rocks. It used to be clean, but like all of our waterways during the gold boom there was no consideration for keeping New Zealand green. Of course the gold boom wasn’t to blame, because if it hadn’t been gold it would have been something else. The policies that allowed such reckless behaviour were already in place.

When the global economy nose-dived 30 years ago, and America regained its footing over China as the global power, green was seen as a luxury we could no longer afford, when actually it was the only thing that might have built a foundation strong enough to sustain real growth and eventual recovery. Instead of this, rotten to the core, these were the policies we were dealt. The politicians said, “Why build an infrastructure based on sustainability when it’s cheaper to take what’s needed now?” and I was at the protest marches but there was not much interest in looking after the environment when the only thing people cared about was maintaining their unsustainable lifestyle.

Once across the river there were multiple tracks where people had taken quad-bikes or trail bikes various ways around to avoid swampy muddy patches, but they all ended up going in the same direction. I followed one of the tracks until it merged with the old tramway, and when I arrived at the locked gate of Joe’s neighbour’s property, with a sign saying, “Keep Out,” I simply jumped over it and carried on. I knew the property owner and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.

About a hundred years ago the tramway had been used for logging large native trees, a practice which had been banned for almost 20 years from the 1990s. These days of course they used helicopters to target the best trees, that is, rimu, which produces a very beautiful red timber. They can take them pretty much as they please, but at least it’s better than clear felling.

There was one part of the tramway where the old sleepers were still visible, as it climbed through a cutting in the hill to access the high tableland from the river flat. Once I had reached the higher ground I emerged from the bush into the open air and passed through a bog, with sphagnum moss on either side of the track and stunted gorse. It was very wet and muddy from all the rain, with grey warblers intermittently calling and the sun shining like there was nothing wrong in the world. I saw a hawk overhead, and several plump wood pigeons flew by, also a weka scuttled away; a brown ground bird about the size of a chicken.

After a couple of kilometres the way became more track-like as it began its slow descent through the bush towards the mouth of No Name Creek. But the track didn’t go all the way to the old tramway’s termination, instead it terminated where it met the four-wheel drive track that led up to Joe’s place, with the rest of the tramway reclaimed by bush. I followed the four-wheel drive track, coming under the power lines which took electricity from the dam at Kumara to Greymouth, and so I knew I was almost there. Rather than emerging again out into the open, I cut across by a foot track through the bush to the old gold workings dating from the 1860s, and came up onto the track at Joe’s place.

It was there that I almost ran into him. I was being cautious but moving quickly, and I almost stepped out right in front of him, apparently strolling about on a morning walk. Luckily I’m quite limber for a woman of my age, and I’ve always had an ability to somehow merge into the shadows, which is why I’m so good at this work. I froze, stepped back quietly, and shrank into the fernery without arousing his suspicion. I guess he was stoned anyway, and that would have helped my position. He limped past oblivious of how close we had come to meeting.

I could almost feel sorry for the guy, watching him enjoy nature, a far cry from the loser he appeared on paper. He was slightly chubby, quite misshapen, in his early fifties, with short brown hair and a pleasant but not handsome red face; dressed in loose denim trousers and a cream and orange cotton-brush shirt. Sure, on paper ACC had an obligation to take care of people like him, with his crooked hip and no education or means of getting a decent income. But if they made it too easy, then everybody would get on it, and the country just couldn’t afford it. At least by hiring me it was a good way of testing who should really be deserving of getting on the books.

At the end of the day, after an accident, we would all like to be supported at the level of income we were used to before our lives were altered irrecoverably. The laws at the time of his accident just hadn’t taken into account the downfall of the country’s economy as a whole. Also, who was to say that he could have sustained that kind of lifestyle even if he hadn’t had the accident? The processing plant he had worked for had long since closed down, and why should he be allowed ongoing support and a taxpayer funded payout in the form of compensation when all of his co-workers had lost their jobs, and none them got anything except for meagre redundancy payments?

After he walked by I made myself comfortable a bit further back in the bush, ate a muesli bar, downed with a drop of Ringo. I find gin is the best refresher for fieldwork. I waited till he had returned back up the track, and then slowly followed behind to a good viewing place I had used before, where I took a few photos of him pottering about his humble abode. Poor Joe had been forced by the bank to give up his house while pursuing his court case against ACC, and so he had moved out here to the worthless piece of land he had no doubt imagined would one day be his place of retirement, that is, in a distant future where he could afford to build on it, not like this.

He had cut a flat area out of the bush and moved a caravan onto it, which was his home. Despite the heavy power lines being so close there was no supply of electricity to the property, no amenities, so he had to rely on solar panels, rainwater, and a long drop toilet. It was a dump. But it was also very nice and peaceful with the surrounding bush. The warblers sang, the tomtits sang. I could hear bellbirds in the distance, and a tui took up a perch on a branch momentarily, gave a few shrill grunts and then flew away again. In its own way it was very beautiful. It was a pity that it was wasted on a no hoper like Joe who lived in squalor, smoking pot and complaining to ACC.

He eventually got into his Range Rover, spluttered pollution into the pristine surroundings, and drove down his steep winding driveway onto the track that led to Noname Road and Marsden. It was just as I had been expecting, for I had inside information that he had an appointment with his doctor at 11 o’clock, to receive yet another examination ahead of his meeting next week with his lawyer and case reviewer, who was flying down from Auckland on behalf of ACC. That was my chance. I waited for a few minutes after I could no longer hear the diesel engine driving off in the distance, noting the time as 10:45, and with a gulp from the hipflask just because I could, and it did me no harm, I went down and entered the premises.

All about the gravelled pad were stacks of things like building materials that I presumed he believed would one day come in handy. There were also several marijuana plants growing in buckets, which I documented because it was still illegal. Over the back half of the caravan he had built a kind of a shed-like shelter, probably to keep the noise of the rain off the caravan’s roof, I thought, because that’s what would annoy me. There was guttering to collect water into three 40 gallon drums, but these did not serve as his water supply; I noted a black polyethylene hose coming out of the bush from the ridge above on the southern side of the pad. He must have found a spring, or at least a reliable stream to get his water from.

The inside of the caravan was very simple and tidy, with his morning dishes washed and stacked neatly upon a small formica bench. It was more spacious than I would have given it credit for, with a double-bed and a small wooden table with his smoking paraphernalia upon it. I took photos, for the sake of it, but nobody really cared about that. I quickly looked through the cupboard, not expecting to find it so soon, but I pulled out a box full of papers and knew that I had struck the jackpot. Here were all of his precious papers, and my job was to take photographs of several of them, and to remove a select few, ahead of his meeting with ACC.

That done, I replaced the box just as I had found it, tucked in below some blankets. But as I replaced it, I noticed several other items there, between the blankets above the box. I took out a Barbie doll, and next to it was an old-fashioned Lenovo tablet, with flower and star stickers on it like something that a young girl might do. It was strange, because I felt like I had seen them before, almost like déjà vu, but I knew from his records that Joe didn’t have a daughter.

I turned on the tablet, and the screen saver showed a white mountain with three distinct peaks, which looked familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It asked for a pin, and I couldn’t tell you the number, but I entered the number, and it wasn’t simply matter of entering four zeros. Without thinking I entered a four digit combination, and suddenly the whole caravan dipped and sank, then bobbed up again like a cork in a pool of water. I braced myself, but then I knew, there was no earthquake, nothing was shaking, there were flashes like forked lightning forming across the sides of my vision.

It was very bad timing. They call it an ocular migraine. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the internet. There’s no definite reason for why it occurs or what triggers it, except perhaps stress, or certain foods, but I knew I had at least one way of alleviating it. I took a good swig of juniper berry juice, which doesn’t have a scientific basis as a cure, but it sure does help against the sense of surging panic when my reality becomes altered like this.

It’s hard to describe, but the interior of the caravan appeared like a hazy plain, like a wasteland, as sun streaks entered through the window leaving searing imprints on my eyes. I put my sunglasses back on and prepared to go. But as I looked around through the contrast of darkness and light, I imagined that high above the wasteland stood the beautiful mountain with three snowy peaks. I knew that I had seen the mountain before but I couldn’t think where. I mean, before seeing it on the tablet, which I’m not sure even existed. I think I must have seen the mountain in a dream because it made me feel a sense of calm and peace, like heaven. As I looked out the window at the ridge above the eastern side of the caravan, I could imagine that the mountain really existed there, at the base of a wasteland on the other side of the ridgeline. I wasn’t in my right mind.

Just then, as though things couldn’t get worse, I heard the sound of an approaching diesel engine. Was Joe returning so soon? It sounded like his car. Or maybe someone was visiting, but either way, I had to get out of there very quickly, which I managed to do, despite the headache that always follows these episodes coming on quite strongly.

I recovered my safe viewing place and lay down, sipping gin as Joe drove up. He went inside, but came out again a moment later, and by the way he slammed the caravan door I guessed there was something upsetting him. I was worried that I might have left something behind in my haste and lack of coordinated vision, but I could hardly make him out to see what he was doing. I waited for a while, praying that he wasn’t searching me out, and with the last of my gin gone I waited for another half hour before he drove away again. Then I too quietly made my way out of there, as my sight began to come back to me.

That was “Chapter Two” of The Woman in the Brown Hat, a sci-fi fantasy detective novel by Marcus Pedersen.

Available on Amazon as an e-book and paper book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RW59M7G

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To rate or review go to: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56531729-the-woman-in-the-brown-hat

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angstymarshmallow · 7 years

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Seeking Solace - Drake x MC

[A little note: I wasn’t planning on starting this tonight - but then the words started coming out of my head and now here we are. Thank you for the request sis @storiesbehindyoureyes. Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to send me a kissing prompts here for anyone that’s interested!]

[Summary: A drunk MC (Robyn) demands Drake accompanies her on one of her routinely escapes from the manor for the night. However, he manages to convince her that staying inside with him was more than worth going outside.]

8. Breathtaking Kiss - It’s the kiss that you can’t do anything for a few seconds after, you keep your eyes closed with mouth agape of you try to let your mind process what happened.

Drake was beginning to think that Robyn threatened his sanity. Not entirely, but rather her ideas threatened his sanity. They were half-thoughts and half-delusions; plans that shouldn’t be considered plans to begin with. However, whenever possible they agreed to them anyway. As soon as they found themselves feigning interest after hours of balls, press meetings and other courtly things that was demanded of them - they jumped at the opportunity to leave.

It had to be her fault.

She was the only correlation between abandoning the manor and leaving at strange hours of the night. She kept them joined together - like glue. He watched it happen, begrudgingly at first until he realized all that time he used to resent nobles were no more as some of the same people he considered one of them, had turned into people he could consider acquaintances. Maybe even friends.

Now he waited in secret; pacing back and forth inside the safety of his room. He kept his eyes trained above the balcony and watched the fathomless dark sky until they caught sight of stars. They twinkled in the distance - as if they too were enjoying his pitiful anxiety as he waited.

And waited.

His patience drew thin. His eyes kept expecting to hear her quaint knock. They kept expecting her smile and her wild hair to grace his presence. He was waiting to see if Robyn Tinsley would walk by his door and save him again from spending the night alone; with nightmares just waiting inside his head.

He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. Why did he care so much if she came to his room tonight? When had he become so dependent that he longed for her company? Longed for moments alone? He couldn’t fathom an answer that made enough sense.

He just wanted…well he wanted more than their promise they made weeks ago; staying away was easier said than done - but the waiting was almost as bad as knowing. Either was beginning to drive him to the brink as the endless waiting continued.

This was why he kept most people at bay. More annoyingly - why he tried keeping away from her.

Robyn had a way of sweeping past his defenses - defenses he worked damned hard at in order to keep most people from knowing him. Liam and his family were exceptions to the rule of course, sometimes even Maxwell - but he firmly believed in solitude, and kept most art arm’s length; believing that most people weren’t worth knowing.

She just managed to slip through the cracks. More than that, she was starting to break the whole damn dam.

He ignored and she pushed. He ignored more, and she pushed harder until her persistence outweighed his patience. He couldn’t pretend any longer that she didn’t affect him - that she didn’t draw out more than aggravation whenever he was with her. Truthfully, he wanted to know her; more than that he wanted to spend time knowing what she had never shared with anyone else.

It was something, he decided that was tantalizing in the way she often proposed late night adventures. After most of Cordonia were fast asleep, he would hear her soft Morse code tapping against his door, alerting him of the long night ahead before he could contemplate with the stars.

Tonight had been one of those nights.

His head flew up before he heard it. The gentle tapping as she spelled out her name to him.

He found himself quickly moving without realizing it, and slowed his pace as he got closer. Bracing himself to peek at her, he opened the door merely a few inches and caught his breath at her face.

She hadn’t changed, her dress was still laced up - and his eyes wandered effortlessly over her curvy frame as he couldn’t have done within a room filled with people before.

When his face swept back to hers, she was smirking at him. Cheeks lightly flushing at being caught, he nearly slammed the door shut again in between them. “What, Tinsley?” The one word carried the weight of his annoyance.

Her brows lifted and, her eyes darted past him. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He almost did. Already he could feel the familiar flutter inside his chest, and he tightened his hold on the door to prevent himself from stretching it wider. “No,” he said brusquely.

“I can always count on you to be a gentleman.”

Was his sarcasm rubbing off her? “And I can always count on you to be a lady.” He countered, “besides - usually ladies don’t visit gentlemen during such late hours of the night,” he pointed out thinly.

“Guess it’s good for you that I’m not a lady then huh,” She winked.

“And I’m no gentleman.”

“Where’s the fun in that if you were?” Wrinkling her nose, she bumped him with the sway of her hips until he stepped aside.

Squinting at her, Drake begrudgingly acquiesced and allowed her to pass the last barrier leading into his room. “Were you up late drinking?” Now upon closer inspection, there was a flush on her cheeks that didn’t disappear after he greeted her and her eyes were a little wider than usual.

She flopped on his bed, before gazing hauntingly up at him. “And if I were?”

“I’d tell you you’re in the wrong place for a night cap,” Drake paused, deciding his words were giving probably not giving the right intention. Well; not the intention he needed right now anyway. “And that if whiskey was involved; I’d be mildly disappointed that you didn’t invite me.”

“If it were whiskey,” she mumbled softly, leaning forward until Drake had a good view of her cleavage from where he stood, “how would you punish me for it?”

He sucked in a deep breath at her abrupt teasing. Was he dreaming right now? Did he need to pinch himself to figure out if this was real or a fantasy. He stared at her wordlessly until she erupted into a fitful of giggles.

Her tiny shoulders shook until she fell back in his bed. Huffing a breath, she held her hands high into the air and shook them. “Geez, what will it take for you to flirt back?”

He wasn’t sure if she was grumbling at him or to herself. Warily, he crossed the room but still kept a reasonably distance away. He knew if he got any closer; he would have a difficult time keeping his hands to himself. Besides flirting wasn’t the problem; the fact that he wanted more than flirting was. If he had his way, she wouldn’t be leaving his room until mid-afternoon tomorrow. “Let me take you back to your room -”

“Originally I came up here for a chance to sneak away,” she blurted suddenly, eyes staring up at him as she nodded. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in skinny dipping.”

“Skinny dipping?” He echoed dimly.

“Yes.” She blew out a strand of hair from her face. “Keep up Drake,” She turned on her side to stare up at him. “There’s that beach not too far from here that we went a couple months ago.

“That’s closed for the winter season Tinsley,” He said crisply, “you know for people’s safety.”

She pretended as if she hadn’t heard him, “It has a sign up - something about cautioning people not to go up there at this time of the year. But skinny dipping right now would be fun right?” She quickly rushed on at the sight of his eyebrows quirking, “just-just think about it. Haven’t you wanted to ever test how cold it’d be right now?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Taking another cold plunge Tinsley?”

“It’s your fault,” she chided, blinking up at him. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I need more.”

He thought the same thing. About her actually.

She sat up suddenly, bringing his attention back to her idea. He watched her visibly wince before she reached over - close enough for him to hear her breath. “We should go - right now.”

He hesitated at the look of excitement inside her eyes. “What about the others?” Although he wasn’t sure if he wanted them joining in at this point. As much as he didn’t want to admit it - he enjoyed having Robyn to himself more than their small group misadventures.

“We should get them too! Good idea -” Before she could stand, his wrist went out to steady her.

“Tinsley,” he interrupted. “You can barely stay still, let alone invite them out for something so ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous!” Her tone was indignant, and her voice had risen higher, and Drake winced before he spoke up to shush her.

“Yes it is,” he insisted darkly. Without thinking, his fingers had touched hers and they made tiny circles until he heard her sharp breath.

She was leaned in closer; close enough that he could see the speckles of brown inside her eyes. “If you don’t come with me, I’m doing it by myself.”

If she was trying to threaten him, she was going to have a tough time breaking through his cool exterior. The only indication that her words had threatened him, was the slight tightness in his jaw.

“I’m going to be out there; all alone - naked.” Her eyebrows wiggled, “You’re telling me you aren’t the least bit curious.”

He wanted to point out that he had seen her naked before; though he was sure the countless times he thought and fantasized about it later couldn’t do her the proper justice she deserved. “Not even a little.”

Huffing a breath, Robyn pulled away from him and stood on unsteady legs. “You’re impossible you know that.”

“You’re the one planning after midnight skinny dipping in which you’ll probably freeze to death and I’m the impossible one?” His tone couldn’t have sounded anymore ironic if he tried.

Stiffening her shoulders, she drew on her full height as he stood. “Well then I guess I’ll just have to go and prove you wrong then.”

“Fine.”

Drake watched as she gathered the folds of her dress; and cursed under her breath. She gripped them tightly, before she marched towards his door. Her legs wobbled every now and then, and she tittered forward within a couple steps.

He fought the urge to grin.

“I’m going to prove you wrong,” she said stubbornly as she paused by his door. She leaned against it and threw him an accusatory glare.

He wanted to point out that she could barely stand, and he knew she wouldn’t make it back to her room before her legs would give out from under her. Judging by the way she swayed back and forth on her feet; he considered it his duty to help her get there.

“Alright, we’re going to your room.” He said a matter-of-factly.

Before he was in front of her she held up her hands in objection. “No, I’m a strong independent woman!” She declared loudly, “I’m capable of walking my own self back!”

Oh boy. Drake didn’t know how much he could take of this. His earlier expectations had all but dwindled at this point. He had rarely ever seen Robyn drunk, and now he knew why. He slid behind her and closed his door, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere else with her tonight.

Sighing,he braced his arm against the door as he turned to frown down at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” He had never thought meeting such an insufferable person that he wanted to kiss and snap at the same time was even possible.

“Let me out of here, I don’t want to burden you with my presence.” She said the rest of her sentence under her breath but he could catch some of it; “even….nice….still…an asshole….”

He didn’t know if it had been worth the risk at this point. He would hate to add to whatever scandal the nobles would pay for if they knew she walking around, slurring words and talking nonsense.

“You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor.” He stated flatly, with his best no-nonsense voice His hands had involuntarily went to her waist at some point. He hadn’t realized it until their gazes both flitted towards it, and he awkwardly slid his hands inside his pockets.

Robyn seemed as if she was ready to argue; mouth half opened with no doubt a protest on her lips. Her eyes had suddenly flared and his did the same except he was better at it. Unlike hers' his didn't waver, and he continued staring harshly until she squirmed under its intensity. "This is not up for discussion.”

They stood in front of each other; trapped in a battle of sheer will as Drake stared down at her. He had to give her credit, she didn’t as much as flinched as she looked at him. Under any other given circumstances, he was almost impressed by her degree of stubbornness. But he wasn’t going to allow her to do something so stupid that she’d regret later.

“Fine,” she replied, miffed.

“Fine.” His response was instantaneous.

He watched the shoulders of hers sag a little in defeat before she swept past him. When she was farther into the room, Drake caught a quiet glint in her eye before she turned her back towards him. “Unzip me?”

“Hmm?” Her request had taken him off guard.

“I can’t very well sleep inside this dress now can I?” Her voice went softer, as if it were a gentle caress across his skin.

He shivered slightly and swallowed before crossing the room. His footing was almost as uncertain as he felt; with his stare suddenly eyeing her back as if it were a giant mystery he wasn’t sure that he wanted open.

“Tonight Drake.” Her voice was playful but nevertheless he apologized quickly.

Scowling a little, he ignored the sudden shake of his hands and slowly unbuttoned the clasp. His fingers brushed her skin and he heard her soft intake of breath as his they traveled lower. They dipped past the barrier of her clothes, making lazy circles across her back until she softened against him.

He couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, until he was almost pressed tightly enough to place a soft kiss at the base of her neck.

He heard her hum of appreciation, while his hands still worked magic drifting lower and followed the signs of dress before they pooled at her feet. “Perfect.”

Her soft moan drew him back to the present. He took giant steps back, and ignored the sound of his heart suddenly beating erratically inside his chest. “All done,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat as she pushed her dress off to the side at turned to him.

He looked everywhere but at her. He kept his hands firmly at his sides, and suddenly found a random spot of his ceiling very interesting to stare at. “Well goodnight.” He had expected her to follow him. She could be spontaneous like that - one minute they could be talking and the next he anticipated more.

But when Robyn hadn’t reached between them, when she shuffled her feet towards his bed,disappointment sank him. He told himself this was better, kept repeating it inside his head that he should be happy that nothing happened. She was tipsy and he was sober. His momentary lapse in judgement passed and so would his disappointment, the sooner he fell asleep.

He grabbed pillows, counting three before blankets followed. He set them by the floor and was torn for a moment as his gaze swept longingly towards his bed.

Robyn’s back was thankfully turned from him, but he watched the subtle shift of her legs and sucked in a breath. No Drake no, look away. His brain was frantically scrambling.

Turning away before she could feel his gaze on her, he took a few gulps of fresh air before shifting towards the floor. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head and knowing she was only a few feet away - made it far more difficult for his mind to quell in their quiet fumbling.

He wasn’t laying there for more than five minutes before he realized that this wouldn’t work. His back was protesting, keeping him stubbornly awake. And no matter which side he turned on, he still felt just as miserable. “Great.” He mumbled without thinking.

He was startled by the sound of her voice. “You can’t sleep either huh?”

“I can’t imagine why you can’t. You’re inside a bed.” My bed to be exact. He added silently.

“Well it’s not the most comfortable thing I’ve slept on.” Her tone was indignant, and he could hear the bits of slurs he once heard became less and less as she spoke. “Seriously, why is your mattress so hard?” She complained.

“You’re not seriously complaining about a mattress, that I’ve given to you to sleep in.”

“Maybe I’m just saying that,” she mumbled softly. “Maybe I just want you with me - in it.”

He went still.

He opened his eyes to stare into hers. His widened as he caught her stare - they were soft; inviting but not in a way that made him painfully aware of how alone they truly were. “Won’t you come sleep with me, Drake?”

He swallowed hard.

“I won’t even bother you, I swear.” She pulled up her pinky finger and raised it to his.

Eyebrows quirking, he slowly watched as she leaned over enough to grab his hand. His nose wafted towards her scent, and he almost gave in right then and there. “I don’t think -”

“Come on, am I really that repulsive?” She said it jokingly, but there was almost an edge of desperation inside her tone that caught him off-guard.

Without a word, he brought his pinky to lock with hers.

A smile broke out onto her face, stretching wider once he stood and slipped into bed with her.

His arm bumped into hers awkwardly, and he was’t sure which side would be easiest. Usually he didn’t have to think about these things, but his bed was barely enough for him and his odd sleeping positions - let alone another person. He tried to be considerate, turning until found a comfortable spot. Settling onto his side, he tucked his arm under his pillow while the other remained loosely by his hip.

“Good night, Drake.” Her voice was almost a whisper; and if he closed his eyes - he could pretend it was by his ear instead of instead of in his mind. It drifted towards him like a secret promise.

He felt her lips touch his. Once then twice, until he realized with a jolt that they were her lips and not just a mere passing fantasy he conjured inside his head from being half-starved for her affection. Her lips were soft, unyielding as they pressed to his. They tasted like her - her sunshine that had never seen any darkness, not his anyway and he was afraid of tainting her with his.

Their kiss made him want more; made him close the space between them until he could run his fingers through her curls. He kissed her back, and focused completely on the soft dip of her lips. Their gentle curve against his mouth, while the rest of him felt as if he was on fire. She did that - ignited something inside him that went far beyond just a passing fancy.

His lips still tingled once he pulled away.

He couldn’t speak for a moment, rather he listened to the sound of their heavy breaths mingling inside the darkness of the room. Their pattern was the same, as if they belonged to each other rather than separate.

She scooted closer.

He found his body moving before his brain to bridge the distance between them.

They were close enough for their foreheads to touch.

“Good night, Robyn.” And this time in the comfort of her presence, sleep came.

#drake x mc #drake x robyn #choices stories you play #the royal romance #kissing prompt #playchoices fanfiction #drake x mc fanfic #the royal romance 2 #drake walker x robyn tinsley #trr: drake walker #can you believe i sat here and wrote this instead of going to bed?#can you believe i'm leaving this posted instead of editing it #this was supposed to be sort of playful and then it ended up being fluff woaw #playchoices #my angst brain has fallen asleep #an angstymarshmallow writes

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themurphyzone · 6 years

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Secret Santa Ch 6

Sorry about the wait! I went home for Thanksgiving and we just got the Internet back!

So yeah tons of cuteness in the last chapter. Headcanon that Bradley is totally a cat lover! Also Pepper’s original name was Ashley but then I thought Bradley already had a name that ends with -ley and it looked too similar. Besides, salt and pepper go together!

Ch 6- Bradley

“You’re picky, aren’t you?” Bradley asked. Pepper mewed and turned her nose up at the white cat bed Bradley pointed out. “Do you want a darker color?”

Pepper batted at the air in front of her.

“This one’s too big,” Bradley said, kneeling to look at the items on the bottom row. “And this one’s expensive.”

He set Pepper down so he could look at the price tag of a brown, circular bed. The fleece was soft and fluffy, and had room to spare as Pepper grew up.

“What about this one?” he asked, his heart sinking when he realized Pepper hadn’t answered like she normally did. “Pepper?”

It hadn’t been a week and he’d already lost track of his kitten. She couldn’t possibly get into trouble. No, there was no way she could waltz out the door and get chased by stray dogs or hit by a car or be buried in a landslide-

Bradley inhaled deeply, though it didn’t help calm his heart at all. He walked through the aisle twice, but there was no sign of a dark gray kitten anywhere.

“Bradley!” An all-too familiar voice shouted. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

The last thing he needed with this disaster of epic proportions was the epitome of catastrophe himself.

“Milo,” Bradley said flatly. “Go away. Weekends are my breaks.”

“Well, I can’t leave Diogee behind!” Milo cheerfully waved to Diogee, who was behind a large enclosure with a group of five other dogs. Diogee barked at the acknowledgement. “Also, Melissa’s the assistant teacher!”

“Assistant teacher for what?” Bradley asked.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Milo asked. “Diogee teaches ACL. American Canine Language for short. This pet store lets them use the space on Saturdays at noon. It’s really nice of them to do that.”

Melissa put a fluffy Pomeranian down, opening the door a crack so she could join the conversation but not let the dogs out. “Between you and me, I have no idea what they’re saying. I’m just here to pet some pooches,” she whispered to Bradley.

Bradley pulled away, quickly turning his back on Milo so he didn’t see his cheeks heat up. Of course he’d been thinking about Melissa’s gift, but he only thought about it during school since Pepper wasn’t distracting him. Not that all distractions were bad of course. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Pepper.”

“Did you lose her?” Milo asked. “I can help you look. It’s no trouble. Maybe I can get Diogee to sniff her out for you.”

“Yes, I lost her,” Bradley snapped. “And keep your mutt away.”

No amount of telling Milo to keep out of his business was working, so Bradley had no choice but to let Milo follow behind him. In that timespan, three shopping carts overturned and a large bag of dog food split open, the entire back half of the store now filled with the sounds of crunching kibble and barking dogs.

They checked the bird aisle, the toy section, the aquarium decorations, and the grooming services, but they still couldn’t spot Pepper anywhere.

“It’s hopeless,” Bradley muttered. “We’ll never find her.”

“Don’t give up!” Milo said. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Bradley scoffed, folding his arms. “And how do you know?”

“Because she’s right next to your head,” Milo replied. “Hi, Pepper! You had us all worried!”

Bradley whipped around, but before he could scoop Pepper up, she turned tail and settled into a black cat bed, curling in on herself and yawning.

“I can’t believe she was napping the entire time,” Bradley said, taking the cat bed off the shelf. “I’m not hanging around longer than I need to. I only came in here to buy her bed.”

Milo nodded. “See you on Monday then! Bye, Pepper!”

“Keep your voice down! She’s asleep!”

Pepper adjusted to his house quickly, so he was able to focus his attention on his gift to Melissa.

She was intelligent, but often forgetful. Bradley had seen her weak throwing arm, so sports equipment was ruled out.

Safety equipment? She was almost always in the splatter zone.

But Melissa never hesitated in telling people off when she thought they were being too paranoid around Milo. In Bradley’s opinion, there was little paranoia in fearing for his life when ‘anything that can go wrong’ did not exclude dying.

He liked to think he had good self-preservation instincts, a skill which many kids at Jefferson County Middle School sorely lacked.

Maybe a second opinion wouldn’t hurt. Girls were complicated after all.

Bradley deliberately hung back while the other kids crossed the street to get to the bus stop. Since there were currently only four functioning buses due to circus elephants stampeding through the parking lot at the main district office, the buses wouldn’t come around for another fifteen minutes.

That was plenty of time to chat.

“Elliot, I have a question for you,” Bradley said.

Elliot was still shaking his fist at Milo. “And if I even see you trying to cover your arm with any bracelet that’s on my prohibited list, you’ll be sorry!”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Do I want to know why you have a prohibited list for bracelets?”

“Not just for bracelets. Also includes any other pieces of jewelry that can potentially get caught on water heaters, streetlamps, or luggage carts,” Elliot replied. “Always good to help educate a student on safety protocol.”

“No, that was a question formulated out of disbelief,” Bradley sighed. “Say, hypothetically, there was a pretty girl at school and a Secret Santa exchange is coming up in less than a month. What would you get her?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Elliot said. “Matching safety vests! That way you can walk home at night and the color is bright enough so people can see you! Except make sure the girl in question isn’t also a regionally acclaimed skateboarder. Wendy didn’t like it that much when I gave tickets to all the other skateboarders at the state competition for violating basic safety principles. It totally wasn’t my fault. They deserved those citations for not completely wearing a protective bubble wrap layer while skateboarding along the half-pipe like any sane person would.”

Bradley wouldn’t be caught dead in one of Elliot’s overly saturated safety vests.

He walked to the bus stop with nine minutes to spare. “Thanks for nothing. I have no idea what I was thinking asking him for help,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you ask Milo?” Mort suggested. “He hangs out with Melissa all the time. He’ll probably know a lot of things that she likes.”

Bradley tapped his pencil in irritation and tried to focus on the assignment in front of him. “I am not asking the Boy Blunder for help. I’m not that desperate.”

Mort raised an eyebrow. “You say you aren’t desperate. But your aura is a deep purple like you’re afraid of what will happen in the near future should you fail to procure a suitable present.”

“Don’t try to read my thoughts,” Bradley snapped. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“And there’s a hint of green mixed in there too. Usually it stands for disgust,” Mort said.

Bradley shrugged. “In my defense, they were serving meatloaf for lunch.”

He was not going to regret this. He was not going to watch what little dreams he had crash and burn before they even got off the ground.

“I need help,” he said.

He fought the urge to scream, run, and live like a hermit for the rest of his life. Getting Melissa a present took precedence over his disdain for Milo. It was a constant internal struggle.

Milo gasped, a sickeningly bright smile taking over his face. “Sure! I’d love to help! I don’t know what you might need it for, but consider it accepted anyway!”

As he stood up in excitement, the open water bottle on his desk tipped over, spilling liquid all over the nearby electrical cords. The cords sparked and they quickly moved away from the small fire that sprung up.

He was definitely starting to regret this decision.

Looking around to make sure Melissa wasn’t in the vicinity, Bradley beckoned Milo closer, though he made sure there was an arm’s length between them. “What does Melissa like?”

“Lots of things!” Milo exclaimed. Apparently he never learned volume control, Bradley thought. “Good grades, friends, Diogee, music, risk-taking, bets, and puppies. I’m guessing puppies are kinda out of your budget though.”

As much as he wanted to disregard Milo, he had good ideas sometimes.

Only sometimes.

“Maybe not every kind of puppy,” Bradley said. “Does she like stuffed animals?”

Milo nodded. “She doesn’t really buy them herself. They’re usually gifts. And you can tell which ones were from me, because there’s always a leg or eye lost between the time I buy them and when she receives them. One time I knocked over the shelf where she displays them and now she has caution tape around the perimeter.”

“That’s all I need to know,” Bradley said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”

“Where?” Milo asked.

A perfume cloud suddenly enveloped the classroom from a girl’s spilled bottle, causing the people in the back to cough as their senses were overwhelmed.

“Anywhere that doesn’t have an ocean mist scented perfume cloud,” Bradley replied, gathering his things and leaving the class so he didn’t get stuck with the scent all over his clothes. “And don’t think for one minute that asking for your help is going to be a regular occurrence.”

He found himself in the stuffed animal section of a toy store, looking through all the plush dogs on the shelves. They had just about every breed of canine imaginable, and Bradley belatedly realized he didn’t ask Milo about the breeds Melissa liked.

He tried to picture Diogee in his mind, though he had no idea what kind of dog he was. He appeared to be a corgi or dachshund though. It was probably the stubby legs.

After some debate, he picked a small Shiba Inu plushie complete with Santa hat. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but he hoped Melissa would find it cute anyway.

He was sure the plushie could never be as adorable as Pepper though.

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hidingbehindmyname · 6 years

Text

Zombie AU

Note: The name of female character is merely made up.

The sound panting was getting louder over her ear as she running as fast as she can from being chased by the group of flesh-eating creature called zombie. Her shoulder-length hair drifting in the air and even stuck on her sweat-stained face.

She was out of breath but she had to push her body forward and find a place to hide for a while. Followed from not too far behind was another survivor whom she knew as Mr. Taekwoon.

She first met him at canned food aisle in almost abandoned supermarket.

“Hurry, Mr. Taekwoon! A little bit more!” She shouted over her shoulder and he replied with soft grunt. He almost couldn’t run any more.

Both of them found themselves trapped in tall building which used to be offices for white collared staff. Then, she spotted a meeting table near the pantry and storeroom. Ignoring the blood splattered on the table along with bloodied papers, she tugged his sleeves and both of them were sliding under the table - praying so hard that the zombies who were chasing didn’t found them at here.

The glistening sweat droplets falling over her face as she crouched under the table while trying to calm down her loud heartbeat. How long has it been to be running like this - years ago? She couldn’t think.

She paid attention to any sounds attentively but there was none except for their breathing.

“We have to find a new place to hide; Mr. Taekwoon. This desk won’t hide us any longer.” She said in between panting. Her eyes gawking everywhere like hawk. She was searching for any weapon to defend themselves in case incident happened just like before.

The male survivor in his 30s bobbed his head – unsure whether he heard her or not because the wound on his right arm was stinging so badly. He could see a chunk of his flesh was bitten out by one of the zombies when he was being cornered in the restroom before he met this young lady. He didn’t inform her yet about his wound. Because for sure, she would be abandoned him if she found out.

Those who got bitten by one of them would be like them - it’s matter of sooner or later.

And then, her gaze fell on a muzzle of gun behind the blue basket located not too far from their desk. A glint of hope flashed in her eyes. She was going to tell the man about this when she noticed Mr. Taekwoon’s skin changed to pale grey and his eyes were sunken in before dilated into white eyes. He also coughed out of blood and trembling.

She gasped. The sign of a person changing into zombie and it happened right in front of her eyes.

Slowly, she backed away from this man – hoping she reached the gun in time. She didn’t want to make any speculation but during apocalypse, everything is possible. Besides being alone fighting those vile creatures has never been part of her to-do-list.

Not in a million years.

“Mr. Taekwoon?” She called him out in unsure tone. Her front body was facing him so if he suddenly attack her, she could be prepared or she thought. The sound of her heartbeat was ringing loudly over her ear.

Once her hand finally reached the gun, Mr. Taekwoon stood up from the table with his body wobbling around. Almost instantly, he snapped his head at her way and snarled at her causing her to shriek.

His eyes were white and his teeth were smeared with dark blood spill from his mouth. His hand was flaring at her way and since he was just turned into one, his movement was a bit slow as he approached her.

“Shit!” She cussed and immediately picked up the gun to shoot but the safety pin was on and when someone in panic state, nothing helps until the person is calm. However, in the condition where a zombie is approaching and trying to bite you doesn’t help you to keep calm.

She picked up the pace and tried to dodge him while her fingers were trying to flick off the safety pin. In between, she throws everything she could find at used to be Mr. Taekwoon.

Finally after flick off the safety pin, she aims the Glock21 gun at the zombie who is slowly limping at her way. Her finger was around the trigger but she didn’t have courage to pull it. This act is the same as killing a man and that thought is killing her inside.

Any time now, he will be at her reach and turning her into one.

CRACK! BANG!

xxxxx

Youngjae snapped his head at the loud sound of gun firing. Prior, he was holding a shovel and stealthily ducked from a female zombie who he suspected a guard based on her blue uniform.

The bloodied shovel he was holding now didn’t make him flinched any more especially when you have to kill your own colleague who tried to bite you endlessly. To survive, you’ll have to kill humanity inside you and hoping you come out safe. He tried to lower down the squeaking sound from his shoes against the floor so it didn’t attract any attention to him.

After fighting off a few zombies, he learnt something about them. A person could changed into one if the zombie bites you or transfusing their blood with ours by scratching or through open wound. They were a bit slow when they started to change but moving a bit faster after accustomed to their body to chase human afterwards.

To kill them, you have to decapitate their head from their body or shot straight to their head because the brain is still functioning to control the body regardless you’re human or not.

He can hear the sound of gnawing flesh not too far from his standing spot. Lowering his body against the wooden door, he tried to peek inside the nearby meeting room and almost vomit at the scene but holding back by glancing at somewhere else and leaves the scene immediately before they noticed his presence.

Watching a person being cannibalized is not a good sight to see.

He was contemplating whether to use emergency exit or using elevator or any kind of method to escape from this floor and went to the direction of firing gun sound he heard just now. There must be a survivor like him despite the number of these creatures keep increasing.

“Youngjae, take a deep breath. You’re getting through this. You have to.” He hypnotized himself to remain calm and caution. He must be aware of his surrounding and find another weapon to equip himself because the shovel won’t hold much longer.

He was busy fighting with his inner self when his ear caught the sound of shuffling behind him. His guard up and turned his body around quickly - attempting to attack whatever they are except there is no zombie but a weak-willed woman who just come out from the ladies.

He keeps his distance - making sure she is not infected.

She looked at him with pleading eyes. Her right hand was holding her bloodied left arm. Her hair was messy and her used to be white crisp shirt tucked out stained with blood. She even bare foot - helplessly dragging her body.

“Help me.” Her voice sounds weak and soft.

Youngjae steadily approaching her and inspecting her pale face. He wants to leave her behind but knowing his soft heart, he would bringing her with him anyway. This time, he unwillingly push down the uneasiness inside his heart.

“Come on. Can you walk?” He spoke.

She nodded weakly. “I try.” Mustering her strength, she was hopping with one foot while Youngjae was holding her hand over his shoulder. “Sorry for being a burden.”

He was silent for a second before replying. “It’s okay. At a time like this, help come from anywhere.” He flashed a gentle smile causing the woman to smile weakly at him back.

Stopping for a moment and hiding behind a pillar while he looked around for a sign of zombie. Making sure the coast was clear, he used this chance to leave this floor and heading to upper floor because he was confident the sound he heard before came from there.

Halfway there, she was already coughing blood and turning pale like a ghost. He bites his lower lips and stopped the pace. He lets go of her hand and lean her body against the wall. She started to pant weakly and gave him a weak smile.

“I know I’m going to turn into one. I’m sorry for being a burden to you. Please, kill me before I become one. I would rather died as a human instead of roaming the Earth as an undead.” She pleaded - coughing blood.

Youngjae solemnly bobbed his head; acknowledging her words because he also killed his colleagues when they were still human before they had a chance to become one. It hurts him deeply inside.

“It’s going to hurt because I only have shovel with me.” He chuckled dryly. Aiming the mouth of shovel at her neck, he looked at her soulless eyes before pushing the shovel in one quick movement.

The blood was splattering across the wall and also at his stained white shirt. Giving her a last glance, Youngjae walked away from the bloody crime scene and continued his mission with firm steps.

xxxxx

Her eyes were watering and she began to tremble while holding a Glock21 gun. The sight of dead man fell in front of her eyes after being shot is unpleasant. Her lips were quivering and she was on verge of crying if not the reality of attracting another zombie to her is dawned upon her.

All she did was protecting herself, she said to herself. But the impact of releasing the bullet from the mouth gun almost making her lose grip around the gun and the guilt from killing a man is making her dizzy.

Everything were so overwhelming to her that she didn’t realize the sound of footsteps approached behind her.

“Zayun…” His soft voice called her name and almost instantly, she twirled around with tears started to smudge her make-up. Her hand was still gripping the gun - caution of her surrounding but the way he smiles eased her doubt a bit. To see a familiar face appeared in front of her was enough to ease a bit of her guilt.

From smart and neat appearance, his hair was dishevel and his white crisp shirt no longer tucked in and clean. It was already smudged with blood stained and dirt. Yet, he still flash a pure smile at her like nothing happened.

Her childhood friend who is constantly there in her life.

Dropping a gun from her side, she rushed towards him and engulfed him in tight embrace with tears stained her face. She tried to subdue her tears so it doesn’t attract any noise. Moreover, seeing the person she loved looking fine in front of her moved her so much that she couldn’t help but crying.

Youngjae hugged her back with pain and understanding expression after seeing a lifeless body laying not too far from their spot. He caressed her hair delicately and whispered encouraging words to her ear.

“You did what you’re supposed to do. It’s not your fault.”

Zayun looked up at him with trembling lips. Her eyes hurt from crying too much and her throat dried from lack of water. When was the last time she took a sip of water?

“He was just being normal while we’re hiding from them. When my eyes were off from him just a minute, he suddenly changing into one of them and tried to bite me! I didn’t know he was also infected. You don’t know how scared I was back then.” She explained while hiccuping in between.

Youngjae nodded solemnly. “It’s bearable compare when you have to kill them before they changed into one but I understand your feeling. It’s not a thing you can wipe off instantly.” He muttered in soft voice.

Zayun stumped at his statement. ‘He must be going through hard course compared to mine.’ She thoughts to herself.

Silence engulfing the atmosphere for a moment - giving them time to pull themselves together.

Then, they reluctantly released their hug. Without saying a word, Zayun gestured him to follow her to the storeroom. Locking the door behind him, they crouched under a table with weapon in their hand; a Glock21 gun and a shovel he brought along.

Outside the room not long after they entered the storeroom, they could hear sound of hissing and limping. From the shadow passing by from under the door, at least 5 of whatever it is were out there - searching for new victims.

Zayun leaned her head on his shoulder with defeated sigh. “For how long are we going to be like this?” To this, he replied nothing as he slowly leaned down to his knee.

#got7 youngjae #got7 scenarios #zombie au

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