#armor is hell but look at that fuckin render

[omniblades-and-stars]

But The Shepherd had never been one for making things easy on herself.

“You can do this. You're not a fuckin' coward. Give 'em hell," she whispered to herself in a poor attempt at psyching herself up.

She armed herself with her knife, a small but wicked looking blade. And it was wicked, sharp enough to part the head plates on a krogan like they were water. She slid beneath the bottom rack of an industrial shelving unit, and waited as heavy footsteps drew near.

“She's got to be in one of these rooms. There's nowhere else to hide,“ one of the mercenaries said from just outside of the door. ”I'll clear this one, you get the one across the hall.“

”Yes, sir.“

You are my sunshine.

The door hissed as it slid open and The Shepherd held her breath, waiting until the shining pair of boots belonging to one of her soon to be captors came into view, right in front of her face. The mercenary let out a blood curdling scream as she drove her knife deep into the gap in between armored plates right at his ankle. She wrenched the knife free and rolled out of her hiding place as he stumbled backwards.

The Shepherd darted around behind him as he fell to his knees and forced the blade into his neck before he could even attempt to recover, silencing him for good. She wrenched his pistol from his hands and flattened herself against the wall next to the door and took several large gulping breaths as she waited for the man's companion to realize that the screaming wasn't hers.

My only sunshine.

The mercenary walked into the room, right past the assassin waiting inside the door. ”What the fuck! Captain, are you-“ The mercenary didn't get the chance to finish asking the universe's dumbest question before her neck was broken, and her body dropped heavily to the floor.

Two down, only an impossibly large number more to go.

No, don't think about it. Watch your breathing, time your shots.

You make me happy when skies are gray.

She stepped out into the hall with the re-appropriated pistol held at the ready. The Shepherd walked quietly down the ancient stonework passageway, pausing at doorways to clear rooms as she moved. Voices echoed down the hall, three people walking towards her in formation.

CRACK

CRACK

CRACK

Three down.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Red lights started flashing down the halls and an alarm began to blare. It wouldn't be much longer now.

Another mercenary came dashing down the hall, she sent him sailing into the air with a surge of biotic power before spawning a singularity right in the center of the hall. It pulled the screaming mercenary into its center.

And she waited. More approached, some getting caught in the gravitational pull of her trap.

Gunshots echoed loud in her ears as she traded fire with the mercenaries who had the good sense to stay well out of the way of the dense little ball terrorizing about four of them now. When the thermal clip on her stolen gun ran out, she tossed it to the side and drew her own sidearm.

Please don't take my sunshine aw-

Heat shot through her body before her brain had the chance to process what was happening. In a wave that followed the amber static crackling over her skin, muscles spasmed painfully all throughout her body. Electric fingers pierced through her mind like knives, rendering her unable to think, much less fight. She fell to the ground in a screaming, spasming heap, pain blinding her to anything but the tears gathering hot in her eyes once more.

And it hit her again before the first neural shock had worn off.

And again.

Blessedly, before they hit her for a fourth time, and in a small act of mercy, consciousness fled her small, twitching body.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Every Rose has its Thorns by Ether Solrac

So, remember when I mentioned how the Cyberpunk Mafia version of Rose managed to Kick Anakra’s ass? I decided to try and turn it into a full scene. It’s not much but I hope you enjoy it.

...

“God Damn it!”

The sound of broken glass rang through the establishment as everyone fell deathly silent to the outburst. Sitting at the bar was a woman decked to the nines in a vintage black mobsters outfit, with the exceptions being the classic fedora was replaced with a pirate’s tricorn cap and her right leg had been replaced with a mechanical peg leg, the end of which looked suspiciously like the muzzle of a rifle. The entire ensemble was littered in scrapes and tears. Her right hand was bloody with several pieces of shattered glass embedded in it. the counter was a mess of hard liquor and blood.

“Please, my love, you’re making a scene” her companion tried to soothe her fury, her short red hair was a mess and her own similarly styled suit was likewise in a state of disrepair.

“They were CHILDREN, Cali!” the woman shouted back in response, the burn of alcohol deep in her breath. “They were children and they turned ‘em inta robots!” she couldn’t stop herself from throwing herself into her still bloody hands, staining her face in her distress. “Gods! what woulda happn’ if we neva reached ‘em…”

“But we did. You’ve got a good heart Raka, but hurting yourself like this helps no one.” She grabbed a nearby napkin and, dabbing it lightly into her own glass of water, she began to try and wipe the blood away from her beloved’s face.

“She’s right you know” spoke a teen from behind the counter, her short blond hair and bright blue eyes radiated innocence but the tired upright way she carried herself spoke of the maturity gained through countless experiences she bore witness to far too young.

“Oh, what da fuck do you know Lass? Sitting here in ya wee cubby. When da fuck hav ya fought on the front lines. What I saw today nobody should hav to suffer and yet here ye be offering drinks to the fuckin corporate weasels that are makin this city a livin hell.” A few patrons with corporate logos stitched into their clothing turned their heads, trying to avoid attention. “Yeah, that’s right I’m talkin about you fuckers sittin’ with yer arses in here like ya don’t know what ya do.”

“I like you Anakra, out there you’re one of the good ones and I respect what you do. In here though? You’re just another person. There are no flags within these walls, and I will not have a fight in my garden.“ Her posture tensed and you could see the motors of her mechanical pack begin to hum to life.

“Oh! So the wee lass wants a brawl does she? Well bring it the fuck on then!” grabbing the nearby bottle of scotch she smashed it across the counter to create a makeshift weapon.

“Raka what the fuck are you doing? Stop this at once!” the red-head cried out, desperate to get things back under control.

“It’s alright Caline, I’ll be gentle” the teen replied all too serenely. “It’s been a while since I had to enforce my rules and she looks like she need to let her aggression out anyways.”

In an instant a mask flipped into place over the teens face and with a quick pass of her hands she released a spray from her gloves directly into the rowdy woman’s face. the world began to slow down for Anakra as the small bar began to melt away and thorny vines began to surround her from all sides, snaking into existence before her very eyes. At the center of the infestation stood the girl, a brilliant pink shining like a towering mass of flower petals much like her namesake.

One blink and the girl was upon her, landing a solid blow to her chin before vanishing in the next blink. Another tick of the clock and Anakra felt a sharp pain in shin of her flesh and blood leg, nearly toppling her over. And finally when she had almost managed to gather her bearings, she was met face to face with the girl in her armored splendor, her mask giving off the mystical fury of a fay with its glowing pink eyes burring into her very soul, and intricate vine carvings looking like the ancient tattoos of a warrior. It was the last thing she saw before, with one final hit, she was out like a candle that tried to hold its ember against an entire storm.

To everyone else however, the fight was over before it ever began. The gas brought the woman into a deep haze, and with a few precise strikes to her nerves, she was rendered unconscious before she could ever throw her first punch.

The victor removed her mask, but instead of the smile of a victor, there was only the tired eyes of someone still fighting a much longer fight. Pulling a small container from bellow the counter, she passed it on to the red head who was attempting to gather her partner from the ground.

“Here’s a fresh batch of healing salve from Max, it should help with her injuries. Make sure you take some yourself, don’t think I didn’t see you wincing earlier” the teen said.

“Thank you, Rose. I’m truly sorry about her. The last mission really wasn’t a good one” Caline replied, Anakra’s arm strung over her shoulder.

“I understand. Honestly, I really do feel the same way she does, but this place has to be neutral. She may not like it, but a lot of these people don’t have a choice when it comes to who they work for. I’ve seen entire families disappear overnight because someone refused to cooperate. The best I can do is make sure that they’re truly safe here.” She sighed, rubbing the space between her eyes “..But to think the Bourgeois could do something like that to their own daughter… Her and her friend will be safe here, you have my word.”

“There was never any doubt about that. She speaks harshly but I know she trusts you too. She just hasn’t touched a bottle so heavily like that in a long while. She wears her heart on her sleeve but damn it if she doesn’t have a dagger ready in the other.”

“It’s why this city needs her. She’s crazy as all hell, but she cares. I’ve rung up Luka and he’ll bring the hovercar around now to get you two.” She pushes a few buttons in her gauntlet and a new bottle pops out, a small heart shaped thing with an almost luminary pink mist within. “Take this too, maybe it’ll give her a chance to let off some steam in a better way. I hope you don’t mind me taking Juleka for the night either, it’ll give you some privacy and honestly I need something to cheer me up too.”

The red-head’s face blushed a red almost as deep as she gingerly took the small bottle from the teen. A small honk could be heard from outside. “That would be our ride I suppose, that boy is a little too good a pilot for his own good. I suppose this is a good night, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Oh, I will, just as I’m sure you’ll be enjoying yours” she smirked as the blushing woman made her quick retreat.

With that the teen began to shut down the counter, she had a date line up with a certain goth warrior after all.

——-

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO NICE

THANK YOU

That ending with the Love Potion was hilarious, also, fUCKING TRIPPY WOW I LOVE THEM EFFECTS Rip Anarka 

[switchimpulse]

Iron Reputation

Log entry 1, GSY 38904, rotation 397, it's about 20:00 hours right now. I figured I'd put in this entry while the event is fresh in my mind, and also because I'm bored out of said mind. The painkillers in stock here on the N*zerethli ship N*zernoOo are limited to an herbal salve which I discovered I'm allergic to, and what's essen--essenen--what's basically a euthanizer for serious wounds--the N*zerethli don't tend to recover from a lost limb or a bad infection, nor do their nervous systems have a 'shock' response to shut down pain. However, I discovered the euthanizer is chemically similar to Earth opioids; in small doses it will numb you almost completely, but my injuries are such that I won't be able to stop using it any time soon. Trouble is, for humans, it also works as a stimulant, so I expect to be awake for at least another 48 hours.

(Transcriptionist's note: Ms. Kowalski's words are severely slurred. I am including an additional invoice, for translation services rendered by yours truly. Some words are still unclear even in context; best guesses are included. Please contact Ms. Kowalski for additional information if necessary.)

We're docked at Deep Blue 24, the big refueling station orbiting Marquette Gamma. We've been here for about five GSRs longer than expected, waiting for a shipment of crystal lettuces/lattices to be delivered to a client in the Ma'alpa quadrant. Five rotations late, these assholes are. So they asked me to contact the shipper overseer.... I guess the captains' impatience finally won out over their tim--timid--their nervous nature, just not enough to do it themselves... Well, that's what I'm here for. Big damn hero and such. Just like my cousin Bama the Hammer Kowalski over in the Koprulu sector. We have actually a lot in common, Bama and I: We're both brawny, blondey, and gay as a big... gay ... thing. Whatever, I'm too high for metaphors. I should send her a holo.

Anyway, I go down to the community deck, which is of course weapons prohibited as much as I'd love to have had a sidearm, and D*lithss the comms officer is hopping along behind me, and we get to the holo comm station, and we're dialing, when there's a grunt behind us. We turn around and there's this big red ugly mass of muscles and spiked armor, staring at us. I look him up and down, and start to turn back as if to ignore him.

He grabs D*lithss by the shoulder and shoves her be--behind him, and she crashes into a mess table across the way. He--I'm assuming it's a he, not from the obvious erection in his crotch, (ew by the way), but from his fuckin' boorish behavior--he goes to shove me away as well, and I grab his wrist and pull him forward to trip over my outstretched leg, which gets me a nasty scrape from an armor spike. He goes down with a grunt, knocking over a couple of chairs in the next holo booth. I yell at him not to fuckin' touch me.

Of course this is already quite the scene and the other holo users are backing away from us. The boor gets up, grunting, which I dunno, was it a language or just grunting? I'll check out the copy of the security holo when Enforcement sends it to us, it'll have captions. He gets up and pulls out some nasty sharp thing and grins. I raise an eyebrow and smile and I tell him, "don't you recognize a human when you see one?" you know, really playing off our reputation because it's easier than fighting. The witnesses start muttering and a few back away farther.

But he either doesn't speak Basic or he doesn't care, because he roars and comes at me with the knife thing. A really dumb forward thrust, something I'd expect from a drunken moron in a bar/bah* fight. I go to sidestep it, but to my surprise he's ready for me and he slashes in my direction, ends up getting me in the arm as I block it last second, twisting away. His other fist swings around and his glove's armor spikes get me deep in my right shoulder as I'm knocked away to the side, stumbling against the holo booth. Serves me right for underestim--timating.

(*Transcriptionist's note: bah is an arena blood sport popular with humans.)

So I'm bleeding and he's grinning with way too many teeth in his ugly mouth, and he licks the knife because sure, why not be as cliché as possible, and he starts at me again. But his face goes confused and he stumbles, and I take the opportunity to grab and pull his wrist again, and this time I slam the heel of my hand into his elbow, breaking it so his arm's bent backwards. He crashes to the ground, and just lays there, twitching.

I found out from Enforcement later that iron is deadly to his species so basically my blood, which is really high in iron content because of my medication, my blood poisoned him, which is actually pretty badass. D*lithss had obviously been terrified of the boor and had fled right away to get Enforcement, who showed up soon after. We went down to their offices and had a chat. Well, OK, I was arrested, but they set me free when they reviewed the security holo, it was clearly self--self-defense. But like hell was I going to pay for a station medic, so we came back to the N*zernoOo.

Turns out the shipper overseer saw the whole thing via the holo comm, and needless to say, our crystal lettuces are going to be here just as soon as possible. I guess sometimes it pays to live up to us humans' reputations. And hey, I get another couple cool scars, and even better: free painkillers!

Here comes a sequel! The tales of Galinda Kowalski and the N*zerethli are far from over! Much love to all of you who Liked and reblogged the last post, this is for you!

Part 1: Serotonin

[winterhawkwips]

sentinel!AU 3

He doesn’t quite zone on the cycling of the plane’s engines, the vibration he can feel through his back, through the soles of his feet. It’s a good focus, though, something he can distract himself with for a time. It’s a few hours in the air; apparently the usual airport bullshit bureaucracy doesn’t kick in when you’re flying Stark Air and before he knows it he’s blinking in brilliant Iowa sunlight and deeply regretting that he forgot his sunglasses. It’s a little before 10am and the stores are open; he buys some aviators and a packet of trail mix from a girl called Trish with a smile as wide as the sky. She asks for his story and he goes with the circus, ‘cos she seems like a girl who’ll appreciate it, and she happily obliges when he asks for the police station’s direction. 

It’s a small town, the kind where people wish him good morning as he walks down the street, the kind where he’s betting Wilson doesn’t get the same treatment. 

The other Avengers - except Bruce, maybe, although he’d miss the mass spectrometers any place else - all seem like city folk. Clint’s adapted to the city, sure, but he feels like his lungs are fully expanding for the first time in a while. There are shitty as hell parts to small town life, sure; his teens felt a little like he was saran-wrapped into place by the focus of what others expected him to be. But every breeze is a reminder of green and open space, and there’s a part of him that’s always thought retiring to a farm sounded kinda perfect. He’s always wanted a dog, for one, but unbonded Sentinels - even broken ones - don’t get to be responsible for other lives. It’s one of the more stupid restrictions, ‘cos if there was ever a group of people that need therapy dogs... 

The police station is a low building, yellow-brown brick, and all of the cars in the lot are four-wheel drive. The blinds are slatted, but one of them’s been hitched up to let a vase of daisies sit on the sill. Clint is seriously confused about what the hell Steve could’ve done to’ve wound up arrested someplace like this. He’s hoping for something like destruction of public property - Steve gets pissed at confederate flags - but Tasha has seemed genuinely worried about his state of mind since the whole Bucky thing. Hopefully no one got hurt. 

He’s idly scanning the apartment building opposite, thinking calming thoughts about line of sight, when a glint of light corner-catches his eye. There’s someone on the roof. The lines of sight are for shit but it’s the best you’re gonna get in the kind of area where abandoned buildings are snapped up and turned into Walmarts quick as winking. 

Clint drifts across to the building, casual as you please. The fire escape’s the most obvious option, but it’s a cast iron orchestra waiting for a pair of sensible boots like Clint’s to realise its full symphonic potential. Instead he scouts the outside of the building, thanks small town trust for the fire escape that’s propped open with an oversized can of beans, to take advantage of the gentle breeze. 

It’s ten storeys of institutional green and peeling carpets. The lock on the door to the roof is hanging off - whoever broke it obviously didn’t give the slightest shit for operational discretion. 

It takes him a moment to locate the guy - partly ‘cos he’s tucked himself behind some kinda heating duct, partly ‘cos the roof is covered in loose gravel and Clint never has any clue how loud he’s being on that shit, always errs on the side of caution. He knows he’s got a little leeway, at least, since the glint of light - whether telescope or sniper-, tells him the guy’s unlikely to be a Sentinel. 

He gets line of sight eventually with some seriously careful maneuvering. The guy’s lying like a sniper, although he isn’t packing like one. He’s got a baseball cap over dark hair that’s long enough to cover the collar of his gray shirt. All of that kinda gets skipped over, though, ‘cos it’s kinda hard to ignore the late summer sun shining off the guy’s left hand. Looks like he’s not the only one checking up on the Cap. 

Of course, what he’s gonna do now isn’t the easiest thing to decide. The lack of weaponry is for the moment reassuring. Clint’s heard some of the stories, though. He heard this one about Latvia, about this guy and his spine abruptly parting ways. Now he’s not saying that’s true, necessarily, but Natasha Romanov is not scared of a lot, and Clint is scared of whole catalogs of things she doesn’t bat an eye at, and this Winter Soldier guy makes her flinch. 

He taps his phone against his lips, thinking hard. And then shrugs and taps out a quick and quiet text. 

So hypathetical bucky barnes?

Clint is a stealth genius - did he tap his phone against his teeth? No he did not - and also occasionally a dumbass. Hostile JARVIS takeover of his phone always leaves the silent mode on vibrate, which he really shoulda remembered before this moment, right here. 

The buzz brings the guy’s head around, snap, reflexes like a steel trap. He’s got storm-blue eyes above bruise-purple dark circles, and he’s on his feet before Clint’s done more than raise his hands. 

“I come in peace,” he says - and yup, that’s a knife, that’s a knife in his goddamn hands - “swear to god I’m not looking to hurt you, Barnes.” 

The man flinches like Clint’s taken a swing at him and mumbles something the aids don’t catch. It’s something that changes his stance, though, squares his shoulders, puts a look on his face that Clint is deeply uncomfortable seeing there. He drops to a knee on autopilot, pulls the tab that renders his bag useless past this point but also disassembles the whole thing in milliseconds and puts his bow right under his hand. He whips it out and into position before Barnes has taken more than a couple steps, and all in all it’d be a pretty impressive move if he hadn’t packed so carelessly, if a pair of bright white arrow-covered boxers didn’t come flying out too, catching his eyes and ruining his focus. 

He doesn’t even catch the movement Barnes makes but there’s an impact against his shoulder, feels like a fist at first until he shifts backwards and something grates against his collarbone. And push down touch all you want to, a knife in the goddamn shoulder is still gonna be a hindrance. He’s knocked backwards by it, catches himself briefly on his hands but his right arm collapses as soon as he puts weight on it. 

“Fuck!”

Heavy footfalls near, hesitate a second. 

“Stay down.” 

The guy’s voice is not so deep as he’d expected, sort of mid-range, and he sounds freaked out in a way that seems to resonate with Clint - absurdly he kinda finds himself wanting to reassure the guy that everything’s gonna be okay. 

He leaves before Clint can say anything, though, and Clint just hopes to god there’s still enough human in him to not have barricaded the roof access shut. 

The sun is high overhead and Clint idly watches a couple clouds drift across the endless blue, staying turtled out on his back until he can get his breath back. No two ways about it, this is gonna suck, and he’s gonna have to peel back the mental body armor in case he moves the wrong way and fucks himself up ‘cos he can’t feel his body’s warning signs. 

Clint feels around beside him, locating the smooth screen of his Starkphone after a second or two of fumbling. He squints against the bright day but eventually he manages to read Tasha’s answering text. 

DO NOT ENGAGE. 

Turns out that laughing really fuckin’ hurts. 

[letitrainathousandflames-archive]

So my dear friend @lectricies is feeling sad lately so I offered to write him a Rainbow Six: Siege fanfic featuring the game characters and the Doc/Rook ship. I really liked how this is going as a draft and I may write an actual fic on ao3 later on. I know I don’t usually post fics here so I’ll hide it under the cut. And now, back to our regularly scheduled nonsense! Thanks!

Castle and Mute were at it again. Those two could not spend literally ten seconds together without starting some kind of shit, which was especially annoying when everyone was locked into an armored car headed to the assigned location many miles from the base.

“What I’m saying is that I absolutely cannot protect you if you stay out of cover!”, said Castle for what seemed to be the tenth time.

“Do you want me to bypass security or do you want them to have eyes and ears on us?” pointed Mute, who, most unfortunately for everyone in the car, was actually very hard to ever shut up. “I need to be at a smaller distance to be able to jam their equipment, and it’s not my fault you’re too much of a fucking coward to set your covers a bit further up.”

“Who the fuck are you calling a coward…”

Everyone else rolled their eyes, already expecting someone to finally deal the first physical blow.

“Shut up” cut Rook sharply; Castle and Mute turned to face Rook at the exact same time, and it would’ve been funny if they both weren’t pissed as hell. “Can’t you guys just chill and like, not hate each other’s guts just until we get there? I’m trying to focus here.”

Mute’s frown was replaced by a wide provoking grin.

“Oh, yeah, you do need focus, huh, Rook. God forbid you hand us the wrong grenade again like you did in Chile.”

Castle clicked his tongue before Rook could answer.

“Leave the kid alone. He’s doing he’s best.”

“My point exactly”, agreed Mute “Like I’m trying my best when I try to get closer to their servers, and the enemy soldiers try their best to blow my head off in the meantime, and I pray that you guys fucking do your part and cover me.”

Castle rolled his eyes.

“Right, boy. I’mma take you by the goddamn hand all the way through this time, like a walk in the park. That good enough for ya?”

Rook exchanged a glance with Doc and could see he was trying to suppress his laughter, and such task became ten times worse when he tried to do it while looking at Rook’s face as he shrugged:

“Can’t do a thing for this old married couple.”

“I swear to god, dipshit”, grumbled Mute to Rook, “Just my luck, getting to go on yet another mission with you morons.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same thing.”

The armored car slowed down, unable to keep going because of the debris blocking the road. Smoke started to put on his gas mask, and the last thing Rook could see before the filter covered his mouth was a wide grin.

“Get ready, you morons, it’s showtime.”

Doc got up sighing and opened the heavy door. Rook went right after him and Doc tuned to Smoke.

“Just make sure not to poison anyone of us with your gas bombs this time, okay?” Doc looked over his shoulder to Rook and smiled back shyly. “Hey. Bonne chance.”

Rook nodded. It was a funny thing, hearing Doc’s French in the middle of all the angry shouting in the English of their fellow soldiers. Sometimes Rook caught himself thinking of how much he wished to hear more French on Doc’s raspy voice, the smile in every cadence of it. This was usually when Rook would also realize how much he wanted more of Doc’s, much more than his French words, or how much he wished the gentle grasp he’d occasionally lay on his own shoulder would last a bit longer.

The mission was not exactly simple: their target was the daughter of a Russian diplomat, recently kidnapped by – and can you even imagine how complicated that was – an American group of rogue agents working on their own terms in Russian territory. Long story, a whole big mess, but the big guys wouldn’t say shit about it: how did they let it happen, who were the rogue agents, how did it all come to this.

They were team who would actually get the recue job done and they knew nothing about their mission purpose. Rook was fucking pissed at that, but there was nothing he and his teammates could do, they weren’t the bosses of anything, they were just goddamn pawns there to take orders and get shit done. Rook hated that. He hated not trusting his own bosses.

The rogue group had bunkered themselves in an abandoned church in Murmansk, or, as Caveira had muttered to herself while analyzing the maps, “the cold ass-end of nowhere”, and Mute had already placed a loop video in every single security camera on the way, which allowed them to take cover in the snow-covered woods close to the church.

Smoke, Caveira and Mute were the first ones to get closer to the blocked windows. The abandoned church was in the middle of a wooded area and Rook would appreciate the beauty of the large wooden construction and the whole fairy tale landscape if they weren’t on a mission and it wasn’t 12 goddamn degrees. Caveira slid down the snow-covered roofs landing on the floor as silently as a cat would. She touched her ear shaking her head with a frown.

“No way to enter through the roofs.” said her in their common line “The only gap between the boards is too narrow.”

“Could I fit a gas bomb or a grenade there?”, asked Smoke’s eager voice

It was Doc who shook his head now, hiding behind a large oak tree and touching his own ear:

“Friendly reminder that this is a rescue mission and poisoning or exploding the hostage would be a bad idea.”

Mute climbed on the roof not even as silently as Caveira had, and everyone grits their teeth, worried about any alarms he might’ve triggered. The guy’s voice was giddy as a little girl’s in the line before Castle could even tell him to get the fuck down:

“Got me an optic wire through it! We got, uhh… Ten big bad guys, all armed and dangerous, and a person lying on the floor, hands and feet tied up and a hood over their head, now I’m only guessing, but that’s probably our victim. See? We don’t need to have Pulse in every mission, guy’s a pain in the ass if you ask me.”

Castle patted Rook on the shoulder.

“I’ll get in and cover for Rook. Rook, you take down as many of them as you can, make the best out of your bulletproof armor and my cover. Caveira, you get in there as fast as you can and take the hostage out to safety. Smoke, stand by until the hostage is cleared out. Then you can throw as many grenades as needed. Doc, you stand by for any emergencies and take a look at the hostage’s condition as soon as she’s cleared out.”

Caveira rose her brown eyes to Castle’s direction in the woods.

“Sir, my specialty is not rescuing people, I could eliminate the targets instead…”

“No.” cut off Castle “There’s only one entrance and I’m going to drag all attention to it, so your stealth would be rendered useless. What I want is you to be as quick as you can and take the hostage out. ”

Caveira still tried to argue as Castle and Rook approached the church:

“That’s not my…”

“We don’t have time to chat. Now get in position.”

Rook looked at Castle while Caveira stood behind them with a grim expression on her skull-painted features. Castle nodded. Rook lift up his leg and kicked the door in with a single blow. In a quick motion, Castle set his armored panel in front of the door, barricading it completely. They were lucky that the front door was so small – literally thank god for Russia’s small wooden churches; the enemy soldiers were trapped in, and Rook’s team was covered by the bulletproof material.

Rook aimed carefully. Ten targets. Easy. That was when a door to the left of the pulpit opened, and twelve armed soldiers poured out of it. Rook managed to land three headshots before they started shooting towards him and he ducked behind Castle’s cover, breathing heavily as the bullets clanged against the armored material.

“Holy shit, Mute, thought you said ten.”

“My bad” said Mute sounding genuinely sorry “The camera only got the main room in the church.”

“Great.” said Castle, getting up quickly to shoot a few rounds of his shotgun and then get back into cover “You and your useless tech-shit, it sounds like we’ll fuckin’ need Pulse next time if we get out of here alive.”

The silence in the line meant exactly how upset Mute was; dude never ever shut up about anything. Smoke insisted, his voice barely audible under the heavy gunfire:

“Castle, let me toss a small one in there.”

“No. We need the hostage alive”, Castle grit his teeth to then turn to Rook “You get up with me now, eliminate as many of them as you can. Caveira, you use our distraction and get in there. Doc, shoot her with a boost on my go.”

“Roger that.” said Doc in his raspy voice and for some reason Rook felt 150% safer knowing he was under his watch, under Doc’s watch. He was safe. Everything would be all right.

“Target’s exactly under the cross, on the far back” said Mute “Watch out Caveira, they’re all heavily armored, you won’t be ably to tackle any of them down easily.”

There was that weird, silent moment that precedes the getting in the middle of a messy shotout. Then the moment was over, and this was it, do or die. Just like every mission. Castle screamed “now”, getting up again and Rook got up simultaneously. Doc pulled the trigger and a hypodermical shot hit Caveira right in the neck. She grunted as the adrenaline rushed through her veins, vaulting over their cover.

“This shit always hurts.”

Rook shot each target with his usual impeccable focus. Right on their heads until their helmets collapsed and then into the shattered glass straight to their skulls, one after the other. Caveira rushed to the nearest cover, behind a thick wooden column, then to the next one, getting closer to the target. A bigger soldier was standing right in front of the tied up girl, almost as guarding her, and Caveira cursed under her breath. She’d have to kill the big guy then. No problem.

Despite wearing the ear mufflers, the gunfire was deafening. Castle knelt behind the cover to reload while Rook covered for him, seeing the dents the bullets were leaving in the cover. Shit.

“It’s gonna collapse soon. Caveira! Get it done with!”

“Easy for you to say”, muttered Caveira, getting slowly closer and closer

There were few targets now. Caveira got to the side of the big soldier, eyeing his bulletproof equipment, searching for a weak spot…there. Thigh. Big artery, bleeds nicely and has a bonus of making the target drop like a heavy bag. Nice.

Caveira crept behind the enemy, stabbing him and pulling the blade up towards the armored spot on his crotch. The soldier grunted, dropping down to his knees, and Caveira pulled her knife back, sabbing him on the now exposed spot between his neck and the vest. The man dropped dead and the blood pooled under his body. All the while, other soldiers turned to face her, but Rook and Castle shot them dead before they could do anything. Caveira looked around attentively.

“Clear?”

“Clear.” answered Rook with a sigh “Now get…”

Mute’s voice interrupted him:

“Shouldn’t we double-check if…”

“Get the hostage out”, said Castle cutting him off “hurry up.”

Caveira ripped the hood off the woman’s face. She looked absolutely terrified, her face wet with tears as she wailed, and seeing Caveira’s skull-painted face did not seem to improve the situation very much.

“We’re here to rescue you.” Said Caveira in a monotone voice; the girl kept crying and screaming “We’re here to rescue you! I said WE ARE HERE TO RESCUE YOU!”

Caveira picked her up with an effort – the girl kept kicking and screaming.

“Shit, I don’t know if she can’t speak English or the gunfire got her deaf but… stop moving! Fucking hell, Doc, can you shoot this bitch with some anesthesia or something? Goddamn…”

Rook was the first one to see the hidden soldier appearing from behind a column. They thought it was clear and failed to listen to Mute’s advice. Their fault—My fault, thought Rook, vaulting over the cover before he could even understand what he was doing. He ran to Caveira, pulling her down by her vest.

“Get to the ground!”

The enemy soldier did not have a gun in her hand, but a small device. She pressed a button on it before Rook could take a full turn and shoot her, and a drone came flying towards him. Rook opened his arms to cover Caveira and the hostage from harm and Castle shoot the soldier; She dropped instantly, but the drone kept coming to land on Rook’s chest like a magnet attracted to a metal surface.

And the thing shocked Rook so hard it made him drop to his goddamn knees. One of his teammates shouted his name, but he couldn’t recognize which one while he tried to pry the drone off his armored chest. The next jolt of electricity it sent on him was hard enough to make him want to heave, and he simply dropped sideways on the wooden floor, shaking heavily.

“Mute?!” screamed Castle, knocking over the armored cover “Mute, there’s some electronic device on Rook, I think it’s frying him!”

Mute and Doc were rushing into the church before he could even finish the sentence. Mute picked a small device off his belt pocket, pointing it to Rook’s chest. Rook’s face was red and veins throbbed on his forehead. His eyes were wide and pain-stricken and the damn thing was sending another blow on him. His breathing was ragged and shaken due to the electroshock.

“Chill, chill I gotcha!” said Mute tensely, pressing a few buttons on his device “Killin’ it right now… done!”

Rook managed to finally rip the drone off his chest and it was the last effort he managed to make before feeling like his whole body had become a puddle of jelly on the floor. Doc knelt by him, his mask-covered face hovering over Rook’s, concern in his eyes.

“Rook, can you speak? Can you say your name and rank for me, please?”

“Ju- Julien… Nizan.” said Rook, his still-shaking voice coming out through gritted teeth “Def-fen-d-der… F-Fuck, I wanna throw up.”

Doc let out a tense laugh, holding Rook’s arm down and pressing his hypo gun against it.

“Here, this will make you feel a little better.”, he shot a hypodermic syringe in Rook’s arm “There. Better?”

He touched Rook’s face with his gloved fingers and Rook shivered, but he was pretty damn sure that wasn’t the electricity anymore.

“Yeah.” he managed “Better.”

Doc was still caressing Rook’s face absently, looking straight into Rook’s eyes as if he were looking for something into them.

“I’ll check the hostage, okay? You stay down.”

Rook nodded weakly as Doc got up, walking towards Caveira and the hostage, and he almost thought he was still feeling the aftershocks when he understood what the hell was that weird feeling in his guts.

Goddamn butterflies.

[charcharcrap]

been doin a bunch of commissions for a DnD party I guest starred for, here are the highlights