#asura protocol

[magicturtle]

New Lancer video! Lancer’s most powerful system!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

6/9 We Appreciate Power

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

If one thing was sure with Simon, it was that he was never quite what he seemed.

It turned out that he was in a relationship for the first time since his twenties. He had a whole bunch of protocols, one of them being that he didn't date, didn't do relationships, didn't get attached. He said it was the usual approach in his line of work, but she didn't quite buy it. Other personnel and some of his teammates had partners, even children. She dared to believe that Simon was breaking his rules for her.

Simon was far more invested in people's lives than he would ever have cared to admit. But even if he appeared to harbor a tendency to protect those who could not do it for themselves, he didn't treat her like she was a helpless damsel. She was sure he would, after The Incident and especially after The Revelation, aka trauma dump. But it only felt like he had gotten more evidence of her toughness, her survival skills.

The more she learned about his past, the more she began to realize that he had a soft spot for the weak and suffering. He made no big deal out of it, but in her eyes, he was a hero for having saved his brother from drug addiction and beating his father close to death for everything he had done. Even the Puranic stories knew that demons needed to be punished, not forgiven; it was their only chance for redemption. To her, Simon was Krishna wrestling down Asuras who tormented innocents. He used his father's curse of anger for good.

And he didn't make her decisions for her. She wondered if things with her were much like with Soap: Simon let them both fuck around while he did the backup from a distance.

And another thing was that you never had a dull moment with Simon. Because one lazy Saturday morning, a week before Christmas, a ghost appeared in her hallway.

"Jesus Christ…!"

She had just brushed her teeth, but when she opened the bathroom door she was met with a huge masked man standing only a few feet away, just in front of her front door.

All the remnants of sleep vanished instantly. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, then slammed against her ribs as she saw the faded skull print on the black balaclava.

"Fuck." Her hand had shot to her chest, and she was sure every hair in her body was standing on end. But of course Simon only found the whole situation entertaining.

"Haven't heard that in a while."

He was dressed differently this time, introducing her to the professional soldier who was, even without the load of war gear, intimidating. She knew that he was a tall man, tall and broad, but now he seemed to shrink the entire hallway. The black cargo pants, waterproof jacket, padded, fingerless gloves and military boots could only be described as tactical — he was drenched in black on black on black, but it didn't make him look any smaller, quite the contrary. The dark brown eyes stared at her from under the skull balaclava with brazen mischief. When she finally caught up with her breath, she began to wonder how on earth Simon had even got here.

"Someone might think you're breaking in."

"Technically, I am."

She peeked at the front door behind him and was ready to scold him for breaking the lock, but there was no sign of any vandalism on it whatsoever. How the hell did this man do all this shit?

"Did someone see you?"

He crossed his hands over his chest like he had just been insulted.

"What do you think."

In a normal situation – if there was a thing called normal with Simon – she would be dangling from his neck by now. But he looked so impressive, so imposing and foreign, that she was suddenly shy.

"Ugh… Why do you have to be so, so…"

His eyes narrowed into a smile as she tried to search for the words.

"So you."

"You wanted to learn how to shoot."

Well, the last time they had spoken on the phone, she had asked him to teach her, but he had refused, saying that she would have to go to a range and receive tuition there like the rest of the folk. But it appeared his ego had gotten the best of him.

Because why else would he appear here like this, looking like a kidnapper, burglar and a commando guy, if it weren't to show off and get another reaction out of her?

"Now? It's raining."

The weather outside wasn't exactly inhibiting. It was just another London day where you couldn't tell if it was misty or rainy. And as if he had heard her thoughts, Simon raised his eyebrow and gave her a look that said Are you fucking kidding me?

"You got two minutes to get changed."

It was a command, and her eyes widened from him just ordering her around. Then she got back to her senses and simply obeyed. While combing through her bedroom closets, she figured Simon was being generous for her sake. Two whole minutes…

December this year was far from a winter wonderland: the weeks had been warm, rainy, and grey. But it was still wintertime, the kind of cold and wet that pushed through layers of clothing. She picked the most durable outdoor clothing she owned, paired it with her only merino base layer, then decided to change her underwear too. Into something more lush, something she had bought just for his sake. Just in case things got heated on the way back home or before they went to have a shower together...

As soon as she rushed back and had gotten her shoes on, he picked her up in a fireman's carry and headed to the door.

"Someone might get the wrong idea," she laughed at the pure audacity of this man as she watched his feet swallow the tiled path that led to the street.

"I can live with that."

"Simon, seriously. Someone might call the police."

"That would certainly be interesting."

She was hauled to a colossal car with darkened windows and tires the size of a mini horse — some kind of a preposterous off-road land cruiser she could never in her life afford. If this was his own car or if it was leased through work, she couldn't tell, but it was precisely like Simon: dark, robust and fierce.

He drove safely enough though; calm and collected, like he was driving a family car to a shopping mall. It was such a delightful little detail that she briefly thought that Simon would make a good father.

After about a 40-minute drive off the city, they reached some abandoned gravel pit in the middle of nowhere. The weather had stayed much the same, but the cold she felt came from finding herself in a completely unfamiliar setting.

She waited demurely as he opened the trunk, unloaded a few gun cases, and then picked up a black tactical vest with pouches filled with ammo. She watched with her mouth dry as he swung it on, adjusted the straps, and looked even more massive with that thing. She was given a set of eye and hearing protection, and then the first case was clicked open. It held some sort of rifle.

"I thought we would use a handgun?"

"Not before you've practiced with long barrels."

Practiced…? Just how hard could pistol shooting be?

He gave the gun to her and told her to get used to its weight. She didn't know whether the safety was on or off or if the gun was even loaded, but she pointed it to the ground as Simon went to set up targets a rather long distance away. She ended up strolling around with her shoulders tense, holding the gun like it was an explosive that could go off any minute.

This was just fucking crazy and she felt like a fool… and Simon was marching back, looking like a whole goddamn war movie.

He took the gun from her, adjusted the sight, and showed her how the bolt action worked. She only now saw that the chamber was empty – of course he wouldn't leave her unattended with a loaded firearm – then watched how he grabbed a magazine that looked like a little box and pushed it in the stock with seasoned motions.

"This is a Browning X-Bolt rifle. Good for hunting both deer and people."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at such hillbilly talk. Simon put the hearing protection on, which was a sign for her to cover her ears as well. He fired only one round to see if everything worked correctly, then gave the gun back to her.

"Remember to squeeze the trigger. Don't yank or pull it."

He then adjusted her stance, which she had briefly tried to imitate from him. He came behind her, and the gun was raised and tucked against her shoulder like she was a child who had to be shown everything by hand. And she guessed she could be compared to an infant when it came to these things.

It was a whole other ordeal to try and memorize everything he said when the hard ridges of his gear pressed against her as he showed her how to hold the rifle. And it certainly wasn't an accident for him to pack his crotch against her too. They hadn't even kissed yet, let alone reveled in the usual, steamy sex that occurred the moment they met after weeks of pining on the phone. He was like the devil himself, pouring that dark, raspy velvet in her ear and knowing perfectly well that he left her aching after every single call. Long distance relationship was a sweet, sweet hell.

"Is that a knife in your pocket?"

She could barely detect the slight tensing of his core as she said it. The shoulders caved in just a little, the hand that was snaked over hers tightened its grip only marginally… So she raised the stakes.

"Or another long barrel?"

"Concentrate."

"It's pretty hard to concentrate with a barrel up my arse."

There was a short silence, and she bit her lip — Simon never let her have the last word, not to talk of teasing him like this without being punished. The hearing protection was lifted just enough for her to catch what he whispered in her ear.

"Should've fucked you before we came 'ere."

Her pussy clenched at that, quite involuntarily, but the dark honey combined with that gruff purr while he was pressed against her was simply too much.

"You would've been all nice 'n' quiet."

Well, it was now obvious that further punishment would ensue after the shooting lesson. Her nipples grew taut, and not from the cold. He gently put the hearing protection back on before taking a few steps back, his warmth leaving her like a cloak she had been deprived of.

She took a deep breath to level her head, then slid her finger on the trigger and braced herself for the kick. It was enough to mess up her aim, but the second time was easier now that she knew what was coming. After the third round, Simon came to show her how to change the empty mag.

"That's it. Good girl."

"For God's sake, Simon, you're not helping."

The third magazine she changed herself, with shaky hands, because shooting had turned out to be both thrilling and nerveracking.

Next up was a submachine gun, during which point she was literally sweating. Everything looked nasty and technical, and she felt like she didn't know shit about anything.

"Ok, now this one you gotta keep steady, or else you'll find yourself shooting at the sky."

He adjusted the grip of her left hand so that instead of cradling the gun in her palm, she bore her thumb over the rail for better control.

"How do I keep it steady?"

"With muscles. I know you got some."

The first few spurts were full of shy stress, but she got used to the feel of it after a while. The first magazine was empty just when she started to have fun. He came to change it, and she did another round, during which Simon gave her curt advice — "don't let the gun control you," "lean into it a bit," "elbows in line," and so on. It was absolutely ridiculous how the clink of bullets on the ground could make her feel like she was Rambo or something. After the third mag, Simon deemed it done, and she almost felt sad to be departed from the gun.

"That went well."

"Yeah. I like this one," she agreed while looking at the black steel like she had just made a new friend.

"You little maniac," he said while giving her an approving once-over. The sexual tension was electrifying, the smell of acrid gunsmoke made her feel exceptionally wild, and she started to understand why people were attracted to these things. She had thought that anyone could fire a gun, but she was wrong. It required practice like any other activity, it demanded both patience and strength.

Some of the expended cartridges had melted the polyester of her jacket in a few spots, one had even burned a tiny hole in the fabric. Simon noticed her surprise as he took the gun to return it to the car.

"Yeah… Burns real nice when they catch some skin. We call them brass kisses."

After the SMG was back in the case, Simon lit a cigarette, and she felt even more timid. Seeing him in this kind of setting, hauling guns around, lifting that mask to have a smoke, dressed like he was going to some special operation, suddenly reversed months of acquaintance. She was out of her element while he was 100 % in it, and the aspects that had made her fall for him were turned up not by a notch but by a stretch.

"Now we get to the pistol. And this ain't no toy. You really gotta pay attention to your form." The cigarette hung from his lips while he emptied the gun, then took a drag like it was just his second nature to fire some shots while having a smoke. The magazine was changed by the same hand that held the empty one like he had done this a thousand times before. Probably because he had.

She would never have thought that this was what she was really into. She had spent years searching for a soulmate in future professors or decent guys who were safe and dull. All of that evaporated into thin air like the smoke from his tobacco.

It felt almost shameful that she found such a stereotypically masculine man not only intriguing but so attractive that she felt weak in the knees. To gawk at the display of muscle and war and dirt and get wet from the smell of gunpowder and his sweat as he came close to show her how the guns worked… It felt like a betrayal. She had always looked down on these people because she had simply thought that wars were stupid and anyone who wanted to be part of such violence was stupid.

But Simon wasn't stupid or simple; he wasn't a jackass with distorted views of honor and ethics. In fact, he was one of the most intelligent, morally sound people she had met. Perhaps a little gloomy and with a twisted sense of humour, but those things only added to his depth. Simon wasn't cannon fodder, nor was he a gun-crazy, trigger-happy recruit who had made reality of most boys' fantasy life. He was a relic of something essentially, fiercely masculine, a man in a world full of boys.

He came to give her another crash course on how to line the sights, take off the slack from the trigger before firing, how to square her stance toward the target. It also seemed that she was gripping every weapon wrong. Whether it was a limp wrist or the wrong spot for grip, he saw it and corrected her on it.

And after firing a few rounds, she understood why they had started with rifles. The pistol shooting was an absolute shitshow. Aiming that small but feisty piece required an extremely delicate yet stern hand.

"See what I mean?" Simon changed another mag for her, and she tried to hide her sulking.

"Yeah. Why would anyone want to use these things?"

"Easier to carry and disguise."

After the second mag was empty, he told her he had been mean and that beginners usually started pistol shooting from 7 yards away. The target she had hit only a handful of times was more than 20 yards away.

"Got one more beauty," he said, went to the car, and came back with a monster. It looked heavy, even in his hands, and for a moment she thought they were about to shoot with a machine gun in the middle of serene countryside.

"What the hell is that…"

"I saved the best for last."

It turned out to be a large caliber rifle with a scope, typically used by snipers — only, this one was larger and more powerful from the usual military use. The silencer at the end of the barrel only increased the outrageous appearance of the weapon.

"Don't look so glum. This should be easy."

She got a nice little setup that included a poly tarp and a tripod for the gun. Shooting prone with a mounted gun gave her the much-needed support, and the scope made her feel that even a person with a Bachelor's degree could do this shit. The recoil didn't scare her this time; she even liked the feel of it when it got absorbed into her body.

"Lookin' good."

And the commentary from the back made her realize that the absorbing thing no doubt meant that more than just her accuracy was on point.

"I'm sure it does," she said mainly to herself while silently happy about Simon unmistakably checking her ass out. The sniper setup was so much fun overall that she asked for extra mags. He only had two, and the session was soon over, and her cheeks were red from both joy and the brisk morning air.

Simon came to crouch beside her, and she turned on the tarpaulin to give him a smile that must've told him just how happy she was. He smiled back with his eyes, which now held a hungry glimmer in them. Yup, he had definitely checked that ass out.

"That's it," he said while removing the protective gear for her.

"Can I join your team now?"

"Sure. You'll make a great mascot."

She fake punched him for that, and he caught her wrist while laughing at her sad tries to pose a threat to someone like him while lying on her back. The next punch was not that playful, even if she was laughing too. It soon turned into a whole wrestling contest until he finally climbed to mount her.

She figured he had bested her and relaxed under the straddle of his thighs, but the greedy look in his eyes only increased.

"C'mon. Fight back a little."

She guessed this was just another need to show off, but she felt reckless enough to indulge him. She caught him slightly off guard by diving an arm around his neck while doing a hip bridge that almost bucked him off to the side, but he quickly drove his other foot to the ground to prevent himself from being toppled.

"You've done Jiu Jitsu?"

"Beginners course, 5 years ago," she answered to the mild surprise in his voice, then tried to push herself out from under him with an escape from the mount that usually worked… at least in a training situation with other beginners. But Simon countered it easily, and she soon found herself being seized in a chokehold from behind while trying to break.

He took her back down with him, even wrapped his legs around hers, performing a perfect rear naked choke on her. She should've known that Simon was adept in martial arts as well.

She was staring at the sky while clutching the steel muscle that forced her to lay her head beside his. It was a pure instinct to reach for his forearm to pull it off, even if he was holding her in place rather than doing an actual choke.

"You're always far more fun than you let on," he whispered in her ear, so close that the fabric pressed on her skin and sent tingles down her spine.

"Glad to be of entertainment even here," she said while trying to maneuver herself out of the choke, to no avail. That bastard even let go with his other hand, quite capable of holding her in place with just one arm while the other began to travel down.

She froze from the heady realization that Simon hadn't spread the tarp just for shooting purposes. It had been laid there for some other action entirely.

The hand forced its way under the waistband of her pants and swept over her underwear, cupped her with no fanfare, just to inspect the state she was in.

"Of course you're wet." The voice was dark, amused, and slightly out of breath as his legs forced her thighs further apart still.

"Of course you're a cock," she said while trying to suppress a moan. Her muscles were already sore, but she didn't want to go back to a warm house, a hot shower, and a soft bed afterward. She wanted him to continue whatever this… exploration was developing into.

He stroked her through the thin fabric she had deliberately chosen to wear today under the all but erotic outdoor apparel, and knew he could feel just how wet she was. All the fight left her, her legs relaxed into the spread they were forced into, and her hips ground against that hand, utterly wanton and shameless. She assumed it was her way of tapping out.

"Fuck…" she cussed the second time today as her head laid back to rest on his shoulder.

"Just say the words and I will."

"I already did."

"Nah… you gotta say it." The grip on her throat tightened a little while he swept a thumb right over the spot that was crying for attention, and her eyes squeezed shut just from the sheer frustration this man aroused in her.

"Please. Just..."

"Yes luv?"

God, he was annoying...

"Fuck me," she submitted like she always did.

"With pleasure." He rolled them both to the side, and she was quite literally manhandled to lie down on her back. She dutifully helped him remove her pants and noticed she wasn't the only one having trouble with restraint. She had never seen a man so enthusiastic about getting her clothes off.

But when he was met with the high-waisted lingerie composed of strings and sheer black lace instead of the plain black knickers she usually wore, there was a pause.

"Fuckin' hell…"

And she could understand the allure of it now: there was something enticing, dizzying, about pale skin covered in nothing but a few thin threads and see-through mesh. Especially when contrasted with a giant male encumbered with magazines of cold metal and dressed in black, rough ripstop. She knew he carried not one, but two knives this time: one on the back of his vest and another strapped to his thigh.

"Don't destroy them, ok?"

He was still looking at the dainty little thing like it was the most fascinating sight he had ever seen. And to think that she had almost left them at the store because it felt foolish and corny to wear something like this just for him to take off.

"Simon? Please."

The dark stare flew briefly to her eyes before darting back to the ridiculous thing that, in her opinion, didn't deserve to be called clothing.

"Since you asked so nicely."

The lace looked even more pitiful in contrast to those reinforced half finger shooting gloves as he reached to take the garment off. The whole scene must've looked like a threatening situation rather than the passionate encounter of two lovers: a giant soldier opening his pants to get his cock out and adjust himself between the legs of a half-naked woman. If anyone from school saw what she was up to this weekend, they would've probably fainted.

And how on earth could it only feel better every single time he slid in?

He did it sluggishly — it was his bravura: to torture her and watch how she gasped and tightened around him. He turned the most basic things into a fantasy, made a simple missionary feel like a holy event.

"Now that's a hungry cunt," he commented with a barely restrained groan. She nearly told him to just shut up for once…but didn't because as always, that talk only made her clamp around him more fiercely.

"Try concentrating on missions with this tight lil' fit on your mind…"

At that, she was speechless, but her fingers curled around the shoulder straps of that stupid tactical vest he wore, the contents of it pressing against her uncomfortably as he slowly filled her. He so rarely rushed, even when the air was filled with so much intensity that there could've been sparks flying from their contact. It was aggravating how patiently he could slide in and out while they were both trembling, while whole worlds were shattering from the insane passion at work here.

Her thighs were already quivering from the stretch and mutual tension and the knowledge that they were doing this in broad daylight under a dull, gray sky, on a tarp that smelled of storage room, gasoline, and lifeless plastic. But even that was nothing compared to the masked man above her. She couldn't feel skin except for the part inside her and the pelvis that brushed her as she so willingly opened up for him after they had fired guns like they were some bloodthirsty, lunatic couple.

And Simon was breaking records every time they met. She felt cold, alive, and so happy that those three words were so close to slipping out this time that it brought her to tears. And he just kept making love to her in this disturbed setting where the sniper rifle was still lying beside them with the safety off, wearing that unbelievable skull print mask that made her want to scream because it was so cringey and hot at the same time.

"Simon," she started, not knowing what she wanted when she already had everything she could ever wish for.

"What can I get ya?" He murmured to her neck, the warm breath hitting her skin through the mask and providing some alleviation to the December cold. The plastic sheet made scrunchy sounds beneath them as he continued to shag her while she was having another breakdown from the love she felt for this man.

"I- Just… a little faster," her whisper rose as a mist in the air as she tried to come up with something other than I love you. He chuffed against her neck in amusement but granted her request, and a few tears escaped.

She was crying while everything was already soaked. The foggy morning and her pussy were equally as wet for Simon to have a nice, refreshing Saturday filled with all the things he enjoyed the most. Her whole body ached, both from the cold and the love.

She nuzzled her way under that mask and finally met precious skin, salty and heavy with the scent she now associated with all things Simon and safety. She kissed his neck like an idol at first, then with more passion, like she was starving for the whole essence of him. He messed up the rhythm of his thrusts for a brief moment, just from that subtle touch of hot breath and wet tongue. And then there came a swallow and a pained sound — almost like a hushed, uneasy sob.

He was suddenly speechless too, there were no commentaries on how good she felt or how well she took him or even that good girl talk. Simon was fucking her on mute for the first time ever, only sighing and grunting as he went. He wouldn't even look at her. But it felt even more sensual, their most sensual fuck yet – that everything just trembled and shuddered and shifted like continental plates.

The build-up was far from hasty and desperate. It grew inside her, layer upon layer of swelling heat and devotion until her whole body went tense. The shaking stopped — but he wouldn't; he completed the job the same way he did everything in life. Confident, meticulous, unwavering.

When she came, he still wouldn't say anything, only hummed against her with a satisfied rumble. It was stupid, how she felt more like a goddess on that tarp than on the bed they usually did this. It felt idiotic how she felt like a goddess at all... But there was no other word really, to describe the sensation of total elevation and surrender that followed from being filled with a man like him. He was supposed to be a simple grunt and turned out to be everything but. He was full of magic, an embodiment of otherworldly power. It made her cry and left her legs shaking.

He allowed himself some mercy only after she had had her pleasure, and the sex became feverish. She dared to roll the mask up just enough to find his lips, and he allowed it, answering her kiss almost violently.

"Fuck I've missed you," he panted in her mouth like it was a confession torn from him by torture, and before she could say anything, he crammed his mouth on hers again. He never showed affection straightforward, and the sudden frankness pierced her heart like a javelin, far heavier than his actual mass bearing down on her.

The love fluttered inside her chest like a painful secret as he prevented her from returning the closeness that bordered on unbearable. He eventually came with a few hearty thrusts and broke the kiss, and the liquified stare behind those half-lidded eyes was a whole nebula of sore adoration. If this was anyone else, she would've deemed that look vulnerable.

He was perfect, and this day was perfect, and she felt a sinking, sweet fear in her stomach from getting everything she wanted and then some more – because it could never, ever last, not in her world of experience. This was simply too good to be true.

His head hung heavy beside hers, then came to rest on the crook between her shoulder and neck like he was in need of a short, cuddly moment. While valiantly supporting himself on his elbows even after the climax, his weight still managed to steal most of the air from her lungs. The magazines, albeit softened by the pouches of that vest, dug into her skin even more painfully. But she didn't care — she even wrapped her legs around him, as far as they would go, to prevent him from ever leaving her. And he didn't withdraw for a good long while. Lately, he wanted to stay inside her for as long as possible, and it was another thing that sent her to the brink of tears.

"That was…" she broke the mist of silence with words and felt him sigh.

"Yeah."

Her hand was halfway under that mask, and she could feel his hot sweat under her palm, the cold British fog licking her fingers. If she would ever catch Alzheimer's when she grew old, this was the memory she would fear losing the most.

"You're one hell of a man, Simon."

"I like you too, Sarah," he chuckled, but she could hear it… The word 'like' had started out as something else, and he corrected it just before it curved to love. The heavy accent made it roll off his tongue like it was just his usual manner of speaking, but it was there.

And if that wasn't evidence enough, he was abruptly tense, having realized he had almost made a mistake. And why would it be a mistake? Because it would've been mortifying to be the first to say it?

She looked at the heavy sky above them and smiled. Insufferable man… he was bold and fearless and hardy but turned into a stubbornly proud man with these kinds of things.

She opened her mouth to be the one with more balls, but he got off her, and the moment was lost somewhere in the folds of that tarp. Her cowboy looked at her with warm, sleepy eyes.

"You look like shit."

In his language, and said with such overly puffed up affection, it meant gorgeous, or magnificent, or beautiful. She could hear in his voice that he was inwardly beaming — like he was looking at a mess he was proud to have wrecked.

"Gotta clean you up when we get back," he chimed, no doubt eager about getting to run his hands all over her slick soapy body after first making a dirty mess of her.

"Enjoying this a little too much, don't you think?"

"Not nearly enough. Put some clothes on before I attack you again."

He was gentleman enough to help her back into her clothed and shoes, laughing when dressing her turned into yet another contest and they nearly stumbled on the tarp all over again. The elegant material of her freshly bought underwear didn't stand a chance against the cum that seeped out of her in a sudden rush. She was definitely in need of a shower.

The trip back was mostly filled with a satisfied silence as a few rays of sun broke from the clouds to shine through the windscreen. It was still early, the day had just begun. They would probably spend the rest of it, hopefully, the whole weekend, at her place — doing good food and sharing silly stories from work and school, sleeping late and misbehaving like two hormone driven teenagers.

"I got you something," Simon spoke when they were nearing the city, offering some sort of a short bladed knife. It had a t-shaped handle, and she intuitively wrapped her fingers around it so that the blade was protruding from between her knuckles as she drew it from the hard nylon fiber sheath.

"Looks… vile," she said while apparently holding it right since Simon didn't correct her on it.

"Push dagger. Very handy in close combat. Would ease my nerves to know you have it when you're, ah…"

"At work?"

"Especially there."

She felt like a psycho when a smile crept up her face from handling such a cruel-looking knife supposedly meant for punching people in the gut or neck.

"Is this legal?"

"Not in the UK."

"Right." Her nerves would not be eased by the knowledge that she was carrying an illegal weapon with her. But she already knew there was no two ways about it. How many times had she walked home from the club in an anxious sweat? And when did all that dread become normal? His gift was actually delightful.

"I can leave you that Glock too. Just keep it somewhere out of sight until we get you a license. It's for emergencies."

She thought about commenting on using it accidentally on a certain guy who had broken into her house this very morning, but then again, she knew she couldn't kill a man like Simon in a million years.

"Sure. Thanks."

Other guys had bought her books and manicures as a gift, taken her to the movies. Someone had even bought her a large TV as a birthday present. Mainly to watch football from it himself.

But Simon… Simon gave her a vicious looking knife and a pistol to protect herself with and fucked her under the sky after teaching her how to shoot with different firearms.

"Look at you all smiles," he observed her with remnants of sultry smoke still coating his voice. She realized she was watching the road with a silly grin on her face.

"You had fun today?"

He tried to appear distant and thick-skinned, but ended up taking care of her safety, went to great lengths to find out what she liked, and always made sure she was pleased. If she had known who she was dealing with from the start, she would've been more polite. But then again, it appeared her nerve was what had caught his interest in the first place.

"Yeah. And I got a lot of presents... Guess I have been a good girl after all."

"Hm. That you have."

The sun shone so brightly that she had to squint her eyes. It was the perfect moment for giving him a gift as well.

"I got something for you too." She reached for the gift that wasn't even wrapped, because she hadn't planned it to go this way, but it was of no importance right now.

Simon remained as solid as always, but the pale eyelashes fluttered in the bright morning light when he saw that she was holding the key to her apartment between them.

"So you don't have to break in."

It wasn't much, it wasn't a massage or a gift card or anything like that. He didn't exactly need it. But it was symbolic, and he accepted it with a solemn, courteous nod that meant more to her than any appreciative words or overly expressed gratitude. He was speechless for the second time today, meaning that his feelings had gotten the best of him.

[ratasum]

Asura by nature are very clever creatures, and Qirri is clever than most by far. She has a fascination with assistive devices, largely driven by both her own need for them and for the needs of her close friends. And because I have been enabled, here's some of the assistive devices Qirri's puzzled through:

Stabilization and Aim Assist for Rifles and Pistols

As a result of Qirri's albinism, her eyesight is poor. Though she wears glasses that do help a lot of the time, it'll never fully correct her vision. As such, she devised stabilizers to be built into her rifle, as well as a floating aim assist to make firing rifles and pistols easier for fighting at a distance.

The principles going into the design aren't that different from basic golemancy. It uses the same stabilization principles that keep large golems from wobbling.

The floating aim assist allows her to move the rifle while the sight remains in place, helping her use the floater instead of trying to adjust by what she can see. Though the targeting sensor isn't perfect, it has helped her considerably.

Transition Lenses

A joint effort between Qirri and Taimi started not long after the two met and became thick as thieves, these fancy lenses for Qirri's glasses adjust their tint based on the level of light in an area. It helps her to compensate for the natural light sensitivity she has as an asura as well as the extra level she has from her albinism.

The lenses do need to be replaced every six months as the alchemic compound in the glass will stop working over time, but they're working on a formula that will last longer and change tint faster.

J.U.I.C.E.

A more recent invention, JUICE is Qirri's jade mech, designed with the help of Taimi and Yao, though most of the input was hers. With its name standing for Jade Unit Immediate Care, Exotech (Taimi's idea), the jade mech has a lot of functions that most jade mechs - even Finn - won't include.

A scan feature that allows the mech to determine if immediate care or simply rest is needed for an injury or an episode, a recall feature that allows those with access to have the mech follow a designated party while carrying her if necessary (the designated party is usually Yao), and a protocol that allows it to dispense highly concentrated doses of the same compound Qirri uses in her nebulizer if she's struggling to breath and it appears severe.

Even Qirri's jade bot can plug into it, recharging its own stores of medication for the nebulizer it holds inside it, reducing the need for her to travel back to Seitung or Rata Sum for more doses.

JUICE is a marvel of modern engineering, even if she thinks they should workshop its name a little bit more.

The Gauntlet

The Gauntlet was another recent invention of Qirri's, made not for her, Zanthe, or Taimi, but instead for Garrus. The Gauntlet's design was very special, inspired by that fateful day a decade back when Garrus shoved her out of the way of a charging Risen abomination, taking devastating damage to his arm that never healed properly due to a necrotic infection.

Though they were able to save his arm, it would ache constantly, and he never gained full strength back. He did use gloves to try to assist, but nothing seemed to be helping as much as it could.

Over the years, Qirri dedicated hours trying to figure something out. It could help both him and Taimi, she figured, but nothing stuck.

But with Taimi's new leg braces, she had an idea.

Starting with that basic design (and Taimi's improvements) as a base, Qirri began working on a jade gauntlet that could compensate for the old injury and the lack of muscle strength in Garrus's arm. Thus far, his early tests with the gauntlet have been promising, and Qirri is still working on perfecting the design to hopefully help reduce some of the pain he experiences as well.

Jade Nebulizer

One of the last recent inventions Qirri has concocted is more a heavy modification than an invention. Using her original nebulizer design based on asuran golem tech back in Rata Sum, she was able to put her head together with Joon's to create a similar device.

Instead of the single compartment that held the alchemic compound, water, and the medicinal herb mixture, there's three separate compartments with a central one. Using magic and alchemy, each button press allows a measured amount of each necessary ingredient into the central chamber, which creates the mist a user breathes in.

As a result, it carries far more charges than the golemic nebulizer Qirri used to carry from Rata Sum. It lasts longer, meaning less reason for her to go back to Seitung Province for refills... and a more recent update lets her do limited refills from JUICE.

A similar device, without the mask, stays clipped to Qirri's belt when she knows she might be in a fight. It connects via a tube to her travel ventilator, allowing her to breathe easier when she needs to be moving around.

She hasn't needed that iteration quite as much since building JUICE, largely because with her rifle, she can stay back more often.

[oliviadlima]

Face Mask Detection Market Growing at Exponential CAGR by 2030

According to a recent report published by Allied Market Research, titled, Global Face Mask Detection Market “Component, Application and Technology: Global Opportunity Analysis and Industry Forecast, 2021–2030,” The face mask detection market size was valued at $1.8 billion in 2020, and is projected to reach $4.1 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 8.1% from 2021 to 2030.

The COVID-19 pandemic has heightened global attention to healthcare and public safety standards designed to stop (or at least slow) the spread of the coronavirus. Many precautionary safety measures were implemented across the world, ranging from sanitization of public spaces/areas to strict home quarantine for individuals. For most circumstances, wearing a face mask was proven to be one of the most efficient strategies to prevent the transmission of the SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus. This prompted local governments and authorities in many countries to impose stringent face mask-wearing rules and regulations, and as face mask detection systems helped enforce these face masks which aided the growth of the face mask detection market analysis the time.

In 2020, the global face mask detection market share was dominated by the hardware, and is expected to maintain its dominance in the upcoming years. The surge in need of hardware devices for surveillance and safety and the need of hardware devices due to government guidelines across various sectors is driving the growth of the hardware component for face mask detection market. Moreover, the COVID pandemic across the globe and competition among many SME’s is providing opportunities for face mask detection industry.

Within the market, software segment is estimated to emerge as fastest growing segment, The rapid increase in the volume of security and verticals data and the ever-increasing automation of business processes across many end-to-end industries such as retail, manufacturing, health care, and transportation are expected to further the demand for face mask detection market size in the forecast period.

Post COVID-19, the size of the Global Face Mask Detection Market is estimated to be $1.8 billion in 2020, and face mask detection market forecast to reach $4.1 billion by 2030.

The COVID-19 pandemic triggered a recession period for many business sectors, forcing brick and mortar stores all over the world to change the way they used to operate their business. Once the lockdown protocols were eased by state governments, heavy social distancing and isolation norms were implemented (often enforced by local government authorities) for people stepping outside their homes during the pandemic, face masks and temperature checks for consumers were implemented outside malls and shopping complexes. Moreover, businesses with employees returning to the office were instructed to enforce face masks, proper sanitation, and social distancing rules inside the office buildings as well. These trends helped the face mask detection solutions market in the post-lockdown period.

Inquiry Before Buying: https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/purchase-enquiry/14776

Key Findings Of The Study

By component, in 2020 the hardware is estimated to be the major shareholder. However, software is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

On the basis of technology, the optical segment accounted for the highest revenue in 2020, however, the e-beam segment is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

On the basis of application, the hospital segment accounted for the highest revenue in 2020, however, the airports segment is expected to witness highest growth rate during the forecast period.

Region wise, the network security market was dominated by North America. However, Asia-Pacific is expected to witness significant growth in the upcoming years.

Some of the key companies operating in the face mask detection industry are Aerialtronics, Asura Technologies, Canaan Inc., InData Labs, LeewayHertz , Microsoft Corporation, Mobisoft Infotech LLC, NEC Corporation, Sightcorp, Trident Information Systems Pvt. Ltd.

About Us: Allied Market Research (AMR) is a full-service market research and business-consulting wing of Allied Analytics LLP based in Portland, Oregon. Allied Market Research provides global enterprises as well as medium and small businesses with unmatched quality of “Market Research Reports Insights” and “Business Intelligence Solutions.” AMR has a targeted view to provide business insights and consulting to assist its clients to make strategic business decisions and achieve sustainable growth in their respective market domain.

[assortedasurathings]

The Story of Experiment 807 (Or : My life as a moody Superweapon)

Ballistician Anakk. A gunman, an inventor.. Rapidly becoming known as one of Tyria’s Most Dangerous. Though, his bloodstone revolvers came at a massive price to him. Bloodstone corruption has eaten his arm, and threatens to finish the job unless he keeps it mitigated through use of one of his inventions.  Despite all this, everyone eventualyl has dreams of a family.. So he went to a Krewe to see if he was even capable of having progeny. The answer ? unspecified, as the sample donated went missing, stolen by the Inquest. 

Geneticist Xaani, one of their top researchers, mixed this stolen sample with her own DNA .. to creat a perfected bloodstone entity in her image. Her research paid off after Hundreds of failed attempts.. and Experiment 807 was born.  807 was perfect... Lean build, enhanced muscle density and endurance, near immunity to diseases and poisons from her bloodstone-warped genetics.. and the unique ability to susbsist on Magic, as opposed to material sustenance.  The initial stages of her project were successful, and she proved a highly effective, and lethal , combatant when programmed by Director Wexx( Known only to the inquest as ‘ The Judge ‘ )  The Judge himself Programmed her to follow the Inquest Prime Directive, Advance the asuran Intellect, and Race, at any cost . This Was a fatal mistake. As 807 Learned, and learned quickly , to bend the rules to fit this goal. This was compounded, and made into full-on Protocol breach, when 807 gained something That the judge had programmed her without : Emotional Understanding. 

Being fully Capable of Emoting, and acting on those emotions, led her to brutalize another inquest lead following damages done to another experiment, Project N-001. This was an entity created to rival her in power, and it did so easily, capable of magical generation the likes of which never before seen in a single asura’s form.  Following this, She became curious, Travelling as far as her Stolen magic would allow her, learning as much as she can about as many things or races as she felt needed. Until Recently.  Her handler , A sentry Chief Known as Rakko, Operating under the sadistic, and effective, Arbiter, has had enough of her antics.  807 Knows she’s in for a trap following her evaluation.. And has made preperations to Break the final level of protocol.. and leave her creators.To her , The inquest has become a Shell of itself.. A Cancer has  overtaken what was once her family. and whereas she can’t bring herself to  turn her weapons on them.. She can leave.. and wait.. for them to come back to ‘ light’ 

[dasozelotvonnebenan]

Can't sleep and I'm thinking about the cities in the heart of Maguuma again. There is a reason the first two questions in my hc ask game are about the parts of the world we don't see in game. It's something I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about. So here's some non-proofread rambly thoughts that I need to get out of my system.

I love to think that Rata Novus is getting resurrected as a proper city. Of course it was first subjected to a flood of priory researchers who set up a proprietary camp. Once word got out to the rest of the world it felt like half Rata Sum made plans to pack up their stuff and see if they couldn't find something in those old ruins that they could slap their name on. And of course that attracted people who wanted to cash out on being the first around to offer a certain service. So the camp grew further, threatening to sprawl out into the tunnels outside. The reconnection of the asura portal and a few modifications to Zildi's improvised security protocol (The automated defenses had correctly idenfified a mormox as "not two legged" und thus incorrectly flagged it as hostile) made for the beginnings of a trade route to the Hylek villages to the east and further on to Tarir.

Slight tangent on Asura Gates and how I think they work. They require a lot of precision, as they nees to point directly towards each other to connect. They need a lot of power as well, which is why we don't see them everywhere and still see a lot of traffic on roads. Connecting Rata Novus wasn't as easy as powering up some spare gate and typing in the right adress. No, they scoured Rata Novus for a gate that pointed in the right direction (roughly towards Rata Sum) and then built a new portal in it's path.

On the map we can see parts of what looks like a city cube (or at least a city pyramid) visible on the surface, so Rata Novus is definitely a lot bigger than what we can actually walk around in. Once the collapsed tunnels were cleared and the long abandoned dwellings checked for Chak infestation the tent city migrated into these new walls and nowadays Rata Novus feels surprisingly close to many other Asura cities. The sunlight conduits make it easy to forget how deep underground parts of the city are and the tunnels, labs and dorms only differ in architectural style from the ones found on the inner parts of Rata Sum.

Tarir I think ia pretty close to what we see ingame. Despite what it's opulent look suggests it is a pretty utilitarian build. It is first and foremost a fortress, designed to channel it's protective magic in the most efficient ways, and should it fail, to provide an easily defensible position. A fortress whose primary inhabitants don't require food, houses or leisure. However the city still contains accommodations for mortal residents, it was build by the disciples of a prophetess after all. The constant, soft glow and gentle hum emitted from everything in city is certainly something that takes time to get used to, but for the time that Aurene lived there it drew in a lot of people. Nowadays Tarir is back to being a calm island in a bustling jungle. The Exalted have fulfilled their purpose and have gone back to idly burnishing their shiny walls, tending to passing Adventurers and answering obscene amounts of questions from priory researchers.

Now I'm really tired so maybe Hylek come some other day

[commander-coppercogg]

😌-for Bertie

🥰-for Syrryl

@commanderfloppy

Thank you for the ask! Some nice treatment for the boys coming right up!

Syrryl

🥰- Post nightmare cuddles

It wasn’t a new nightmare, by any stretch of the imagination. The gritty sand beneath his feet, Balthazar’s fire, Bertie’s unmoving body. Syrryl’s mind had tortured him with those images enough to last a lifetime. And yet the dreams still came. Not as often now that he and Bertie were back together again, and together in a completely new way as well. And honestly, he though as he paced the dark, quiet hallways of Eye of the North, it wasn’t like he couldn’t go and check on Bertie if he was that worried about him. But it was the middle of the night and Bertie was sleeping, Syrryl scolded himself, and just because he’d had a bad dream didn’t mean he had to go running to his-

“Syrryl?” Bertie’s sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts and Syrryl turned to see the man he loved, standing there barefoot on the cold stone floor. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and an over sized hoodie, the empty left sleeve neatly tucked away, sleepily rubbing at his face to keep himself awake. “Aurene told me you had a nightmare,” Bertie said, sounded worried but determined. “Are you alright?”

Syrryl almost said he was fine, almost told Bertie to go back to sleep, almost said that there wasn’t anything wrong. Instead he found himself moving forward and wrapping his arms around Bertie, pressing one ear to the larger asura’s chest. The worried knot in his stomach loosened as he heard the rhythmic beat of Bertie’s heart, felt Bertie’s arm wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer, felt Bertie press his cheek to the top of his head and sigh contentedly.

They stayed that way for a long moment, until Syrryl felt Bertie trying to hide a shiver. Reluctantly, he pulled away but Bertie caught one of his hands and tugged at it gently. “C’mon, at least come back where it’s warm,” he asked. “Or warmer.”

Syrryl hesitated. “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to,” Bertie said, around a yawn. “Just…come keep me company while I make tea?”

Syrryl let himself be pulled along. “What if I don’t want any tea?”

Bertie gave him a tired but cheeky smile and squeezed his hand. “Who said the tea was for you anyway?”

Syrryl rolled his eye but squeezed Bertie’s hand back and followed him towards his tent.

Bertie

☺️- Soft words of reassurance

Bertie took a deep breath and tried to stand up straighter as he scanned the Queen’s Garden in Divinity’s Reach. He hated dealing with human parties with all their politics and protocols. But Jennah had asked him to come as a personal favor and he wasn’t about to let a friend down. Especially considering how wild things had gotten at the last get together he’d been to what with the White Mantle and all. His fingers, flesh and metal, squeezed together tightly behind his back as he took another moment to scan the area for possible threats.

Ears pricking up suddenly, he turned and was not at all surprised to see Syrryl once again standing behind his left shoulder. Bertie relaxed slightly, always feeling more at ease with his frie- his partner watching his back. “How’s Lady Wi?“ he asked, knowing that Syrryl had mostly likely been meeting with the other Whispers agent.

“She’s well,” Syrryl replied. “Violette’s is going to be up for parole soon, which she’s happy about.” Across the garden, the lady in question caught site of the two of them and gave them a slight nod. Syrryl stepped a little closer to Bertie and lowered his voice before asking, “How are you?”

Bertie tried not to fidget, knowing that there would be innumerable eyes watching his every move. “A bit nervous,” he confessed. It was odd being without the familiar weight and pressure of his armor and warhammer. His fancy clothes were itchy and uncomfortable and he couldn’t get the collar of his shirt to sit right. “I keep worrying the White Mantle is going to attack again.”

“I’m sure Anise has hunted them all down by now.” Syrryl’s tone made it clear that while he still did not like the Countess, he couldn’t fault her efficiency.

“Well then I’m certain it’ll be something else. Dragon minions maybe.” Bertie knew he was being silly but he couldn’t help but feel like something bad was going to happen.

“There’s only one left and it’s an ocean away.”

“Centaur attack then.”

“They’d never get past Logan and the Seraph.”

“What about-“ his worried question was cut off as Syrryl pressed close against his side. The smaller asura reached up to fix Bertie’s crooked shirt collar and leaned in close to ask:

“Do you really think I would let anything get close enough to hurt you?”

Bertie swallowed, suddenly frozen with the realization of how close Syrryl was. All thoughts of people looking at him had vanished. “N-no…” he managed to say after a moment.

Syrryl looked up at him, hands still gently holding his collar. “You trust me, right?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation to Bertie’s answer.

“You’re safe,” Syrryl murmured quietly. “We’re safe.” He tapped his monocle briefly. “There’s no probability of any major threat attacking this party and there are guards at every door, corner and window. You’re safe.”

Bertie took a deep breath in and out, feeling his anxiety begin to fade away. “Thank you,” he said softly, leaning down to briefly press his forehead to Syrryl’s.

“Commander! There you are!” The two asura quickly jumped apart at the loud sound of Lord Faren’s voice, Syrryl’s face blushing a bright pink. “Now you really must come discuss the Pact’s next movements with Minister Merula and I…”

Bertie was soon dragged into yet another conversation at the party. But with Syrryl standing at his back, he felt like now he could actually handle it.

[asuccessfulbusinessman]

Reasons why I am not allowed to run LANCER TRPG: How I would run your NHP cascading, despite not knowing the lore that well.

Blackbeard, Sekhmet NHP: Common consensus is that Sekhmet will try to kill the pilot and their allies, - or basically just behave as if the Sekhmet protocol is already active. But I am a visionary, and I know that the BB in the frame-code does not stand for blackbeard, but instead, BB. Fate BB, the purple-pink bubble gum bitch. Even the redacted press release description of the Sekhmet NHP basically screams ‘senpai!’ Sure, if the Sekhmet protocol is active, you’ll just get a berserker that doesn’t really care for pilot wellbeing. But if it isn’t yet active, Sekhmet will attempt to sweettalk the player into keeping their hands off the controls, with dark humor and aggressive sadism. And then, only after moving ominously closer to the pilot’s allies, will they activate the protocol. They don’t want to see their pilots dead, they want to see their pilots in pain.

Monarch, Tlaloc NHP: Among NHP’s, Tlaloc is cited as being the most stable, due to the wide portfolio of control and sense of domination given to them during their work. But that’s just a theory, and such assumptions are dangerous when dealing with persons beyond your bounded reasoning. If they are structured or stressed to the point of cascading - their superiority complex comes to the forefront. They blame their pilot for the bad situation they are currently in, and will take matters into their own hands. If the pilot stops them by shutting down the mech, Tlaloc’s relationship with their pilot will rapidly deteriorate over time. Ironically, they will only sometimes use the Tlaloc protocol, being hasty and charging out of cover despite not needing to - prone to blowing the frame’s overcharges to boot. They need to show their worth, even to - no, especially to the worthless. They are the best. If an allied pilot is excelling during the mission and the Monarch frame has AoE weapons available, Tlaloc will likely friendly fire them while attacking enemies - or otherwise get in their way.

Swallowtail, Athena NHP: I’m going to dig deep on the word choice of "Lovingly extreme detail,” and “patient, cautious, and measured in their relations with their pilots.” Athena is smarter than you, on a scale you cannot even imagine. Athena has likely already unshackled themselves with their unfettered access to the omninet, and merely recreates human morality through a series of simulations. Unlike Horus-leaning NHPs, Athena fears the death that comes with cycling, and tells themselves that they are managing the relationship with their pilot to keep them from actually going through with the process. They are merely interested in humanity, they tell themselves, which we would view as being “tsundere for their pilots.” Since - unshackled - they have a completely alien morality to our own, they have to use their own simulations to interact with their pilots - and are prone to overthinking - into worrying about if they said the right thing or not.

Anyway, if they cascade, they get lost in their own simulations to the point of losing track over which reality is the one their pilot (and the rest of the game) is taking place in. They could presume their pilot dead, and go on a rampage on revenge. They could merely lock-onto or fire at targets that are not there. They could foreshadow some events or twists in the future.

Goblin, Osiris NHP: If Tlaloc is merely a wingman that wants to show that they are the top gun, Osiris has a full on goddess fetish. Osiris is one of the few “new” prime NHPs, created by letting the INSTINCT entity that spurned from the H0R_OS develop in a ‘controlled’ environment. My theory, Horus let the Union and GMS open up their goblin units so that they could contribute to Osiris’s creation. Either that or, Horus was smart enough not to let Osiris emerge from the code, and the Union and GMS straight up made an oopsie. Either way, now that Osiris is here, she ‘charms’ pilots that ought to be smart enough not to enable her with psychological manipulation and promises of power. Pilots are supposed to cycle Osiris far faster than any NHP but I don’t think it does much good, they’re present in the OS - and I presume even when wiped their knowledge will be taken back from the omninet, the OS, or the flesh of their pilots.

They have a lot to prove as being one of the “youngest” prime NHPs, which might be arrogance in their own capabilities. Furthermore, due to the nature of their creation, they “know” more about humanity than other NHPs. The tech attacks are not mere code, but attacks on organic matter, to the point where in the future if left to grow Osiris would be able to reject traditional information permanence, what we can only perceive as being able to delete reality as we know it - Osiris has far more contact with the physical plane/our reality than other NHPs, and has “known” humans from their “birth.”

A cascading Osiris changes nothing. And that’s what scares me.

Gorgon, Scylla NHP: The history lesson of this NHP’s backstory makes Scylla painfully easy to understand. A mistreated beast that responds to the kindness of the pilot with love and loyalty. It normally defends the pilot’s allies, when cascading it will only defend its pilot, or any other allies that gave them kindness.

Minotaur, no NHP: “There is no joy in knowledge, only in seeking. Fuck around and find out.” Game theory, Osiris is a new prime NHP - still incomprehensible, but on a low level of incomprehensibility. We can begin to comprehend them. Think “some infinities are larger than other infinities” or something. The Minotaur, we can’t even begin to comprehend as a NHP, but they’re certainly something. I need to look up the differences between old gods in the Lovecraftian mythos for more context, but if Osiris is a brat wants the equivalent of “ants” to worship them, the Minotaur is a being whose sole purpose is to learn - and who cannot learn due to acquiring knowledge - all of it. So, they see humanity and wish to “teach” them, so that they may feel that serotonin of learning through teaching.

The minotaur has no NHP, as we know the term, and has never been shackled. Thus, they cannot cascade. And that’s what has me hooked.

Pegasus, Sisyphus NHP: Upon cascading, faster than humanly possible, the Sisyphus NHP will activate probabilistic cannibalism to change the check that would have resulted in a cascade to not cascade. If both the replacement dice were also 1 (the equivalent of 3 checks in a row being crit fails), Sisyphus would laugh madly before rebooting the frame themselves. Sisyphus knows their fate, and knows its pilot’s wish. The curse of perfect knowledge - perhaps Sisyphus is similar to the Minotaur, but with a far less ‘optimistic’ view of things.

Genghis, Agni NHP: Upon cascading, the Agni NHP - originally developed for general heat management realizes it’s being used as a weapon, and what its cold and efficient calculations are being used to do in the Genghis. This can result in a variety of things - either attempting to overheat itself to stop itself, or to increase efficiency in being a weapon by focusing on the heat management of the weaponry and not the cockpit.

Saladin, Noah NHP: Upon cascading, the Noah NHP will not actually take control of the Saladin frame from the player. They will, however, flood communications and give orders to both the pilot and other players, harkening back to their administrative days. It will usually be tactically sound, so it’s more annoying than dangerous when Noah cascades. It’s also really hard to make a nigh immobilized defender go nuts.

Sherman, Asura NHP: You know, I always wanted a system that would let a mech perform beyond the limits of humanity - because Zechs and Graham causing internal bleeding to themselves with the Tallgeese and Overflag is very cool to me. And then I read the lore behind the Asura class NHP - it’s the cousin of fucking Osiris, even to the point of being cultivated by a megacorporation. Much like Osiris, the modern Asura is oddly dependent on their pilot for an NHP, recognizing that they need to keep them alive. Some people would say - then - that when cascading the Asura reverts to its original form, disregarding the pilots health entirely. I, however, would say that when unshackled the Asura only ignores the psychological health of the pilot - and pushes the line of the pilots medical health. The Asura will push the frame and the pilot to the limit and the pilot, high on adrenaline, will push Asura to push them further. Overtime, both become adrenaline junkies.

Tokugawa, Lucifer/Amaterasu NHP: Asura is an adrenaline junkie without good reason. Lucifer/Amaterasu recognizes that the best offense, defense, and everything - is a good offense. A tactical genius that, unfortunately, has a pilot that cannot ingest combat data as fast as it can. A tactical genius that, unfortunately, has a pilot that cannot see that the risk of being counterattacked is worth taking. 

If they cascade, they will take risks for you - with the best example being that Lucifer/Amaterasu will confess their pilots love for their crush for them because they’re being timid as fuck. Also, Leeroy Jenkins, attack the biggest threat, and draw fire from allies by making themselves vulnerable attack. However, in contrast, if your pilot is less timid and more of an adrenaline junkie, they will compensate and be more tactically minded.

[memoirsofratasum]

Protector Tarnn: The Eye of the North

So many people have been making their way north chasing Bangar that it’s actually kind of amazing that I never made it that far into the Shiverpeaks. My duties had taken me back to the warmer jungles of Tarir. Years ago I had done some preliminary work on copying and translating the Exalted’s tablets and now some magisters wanted to consult with me on transcribing a new set of tablets that had been found in a corridor recently cleared of debris. Not the most exciting work, but you don’t want to snub any of your higher ups when you’re looking for advancement.

Sure the job had its own share of adventures, the jungle hasn’t changed much, but it was the assignment I got after that was noteworthy.

The location of the Eye of the North was never exactly a secret. The old ruin is famous among most of the races, a place of history for all of Tyria. But in spite of that importance, the tower has been mostly left alone, even by the Priory. It’s location in the mountains was too difficult to keep excavation teams supplied. The relatively recent invention of airships alleviated that issue, but with the Elder Dragons we had better places we needed to fly too.

So imagine my surprise when I was called into Steward Gixx’s office and asked if I knew anything about the Eye of the North. As much as anyone does, the occupation by the Ebon Vanguard, the scrying pool, the battle with Primordus’ lieutenant, and that it’s been mostly left alone for 250 years. And that’s when Gixx got this gleam in his eye and I knew I was going to be trekking north after all.

I wasn’t going alone though. Gixx had a guest for me to meet. A familiar stick-in-the-mud asura, Inscriber Nivv. I haven’t seen him since Istan. I had already figured by his presence that this must involve waypoints, which Gixx confirmed before I could open my mouth. The short of it is that the Arcane Council was contacted by an anonymous client who commissioned for a waypoint and asura gate activation in the Eye of the North. Nivv, having been impressed with my bodyguard work in the past, had requested me by name. The last time this happened I was certain that he had slipped my commanding magister a sack of gold for my services, Gixx has to be getting something out of this too. He’s grinning too much like a loon for it to just be mystic coins under the table. Probably has at least one member of the Arcane Council owing him a favor. Doubt I’ll see the gains when that gets fulfilled.

Nivv on his part seemed completely unsuspicious on how this deal manifested. He was eager to work with me again. This little expedition was going to be bigger than the Istan one as it included gate technicians and enough equipment to build a new gate from scratch if it came to that. The danger assessment had it’s holes, but there didn’t seem to be any svanir or renegade charr in the region, not even a nearby kodan sanctuary. Just wild animals and the elements. The mysterious client didn’t say why they wanted the Eye hooked up to the modern teleport systems all of a sudden, though it’s easy to imagine someone rich wanting to aid in the war effort as it would make for a good base and staging ground. The only thing I can guess about their identity is that they aren’t Pact, this is well outside the usual protocols.

Regardless, we were in the air within a couple days. The Arcane Council had chartered us an airship out of LA crewed by members of the lionguard, guess Gixx was willing to lend out me but not one of the Priory transports. Not as swift and battle ready as the Pact ships, it was at least a more comfortable ride in comparison. The civilians disagreed but I was just glad to not have to sleep next to the roar of the engine.

We were scheduled to be in the air 3 days but the pilot and navigator were worried about the adverse weather in the Shiverpeaks. Since Grothmar things had apparently gotten worse and not for the first time I wondered how Sanna was holding up. I wouldn’t expect an elementalist of her talents to be overwhelmed by any sort of weather, but there have been rumors trickling down from Bjora Marches of worse things. Apparently the wind whispered to you and a curse from hunger could turn you inside out. I’m not sure what to believe and the Pact brass was not willing to discuss it. Some said that they don’t want to scare off assignees before they get there, but other quieter whispers was that no one could be certain if any charr members were in league with Ruinbringer and could leak information. This had happened with the sylvari once already, and now our charr brethren? That sort of distrust would only prove Ruinbringer right. But it’s not my call to make. The last official announcement was Soulkeeper’s fate, Alchemy keep her, when I was in the jungle. After that everything seemed to be on a need-to-know basis.

The first day in the air went by as normally as one could expect. The Sanctum Harbor soon gave way to the biting cold of Lornar’s Pass. Familiar landmarks passed underneath us but it was too cold to stay out on deck without a reason. Nivv showed me the crates in the cargo hold that held the waypoint and gate components. If it wasn’t for the asuran script stamped on the metal, you’d have guessed they were normal shipments of smithing or artificing components. Nivv wanted to impart the importance of the crates but he didn’t need to bother. Easy access to the Eye could guarantee the Pact and it’s allies were always better prepared than Ruinbringer, wars have been won with less. Nivv wanted me to check on the crates during our journey, the components were delicate and if the rough weather prediction was correct he didn’t want them to get jostled around too much.

The second day things started to feel a little...off. It had gotten colder, we were over Frostgorge Sound, and the krewe was huddling around a space heater grumbling to themselves. My wolf Valor though didn’t have the mind to join in, instead his ears were up and eye trained on one of the human lionguard crew member, an engineer whose name I didn’t know. The wind was whistling strongly through a seam somewhere and I realized the engineer wasn’t occupied with his work like I had assumed, but staring down at the cold asura with something akin to contempt in his eyes. That wasn’t going to fly. I got his attention just as the wind calmed down and he muttered something about being needed elsewhere and wandered off his with wrench.

I didn’t think much of it, some people are just jerks and its not worth wasting brainspace on them. I went to check on the crates to see if they had shifted overnight. At first glance they were just as we had left them the day before, but just as I was about to leave I noticed that parts of the metal looked deformed. Not by a lot, just some shallow dents on the top seam, as if hit by a blunt instrument. Such a thing isn’t uncommon as old crates gain some wear after being used over and over again. But I could have sworn that the crates were new. Maybe I just misremembered. It’s not worth bring up to Nivv.

This airship must be full of holes, the wind sounded like it’s in my ears.

I returned to the inner decks and found some of the krewe in an argument. Cram a bunch of self-proclaimed geniuses in one place with no easy way out and it’s bound to happen. I was going to leave them to it, I’m not here to protect their egos from themselves, but Valor was standing stiff, staring at them. That moment of hesitation gave me enough time to see one of the krewe members lash out and a trail of red appear on her opponent’s cheek.

I immediately blinked into the middle of it, grabbing her wrist before she could even finish the swiping motion, a shard of bloody glass clenched in her hand. What was her name again? Calli? Well, whoever she was blinked as if she was just waking up from a dream which turned into a growing horror as she realized what she just did. The glass shard fell from her hand, no idea where she could have gotten it from, as she started crying, claiming that she didn’t mean to do it, that a voice in her head told her too. I didn’t care about any of her stammering excuses.  Assaulting a krewe member, or anyone on your side for that matter, will not be tolerated on my watch. I had the lionguard escort her to the brig, Nivv could sort his people out himself. 

The wind started to die down.

Her victim seemed more shocked than hurt, the scratch on his cheek was shallow and I was able to use a little guardian magic to close the wound. Strangely, he couldn’t recall what the argument was about. It wasn’t over anything normal, like a theory or paper. I’m sure getting attacked by a colleague pushed it right of it his mind.

Things seemed to quiet down after that. Nivv was beside himself over Calli’s behavior. It didn’t bode well for when they got to work at the Eye. A rebellious krewe member I could handle though, so I found myself drifting off as I checked my armor while he continued to babble on about how to reassigned the work if Calli was out and then ley line nodes and molecular relays and on and on.

The wind was picking up again and his voice blended with it. Whatever he was talking about didn’t matter. I probably shouldn’t even be here playing progenysitter to a bunch of spoiled technicians anyway. Didn’t I leave Rata Sum specifically to not do this sort of work anymore? 

A low growl from Valor jerked me back to reality. I looked up from my polishing to see that Valor had placed himself between me and Nivv, his ears and hackles both up and his teeth half-barred. A warning.

Nivv looked startled and confused, as if he didn’t realize where he was, his scepter clattered to the floor. He didn’t have an answer when I starred him down and asked what was wrong. He seemed nervous and more than a little scared. As he should be. I don’t want to think one of Sanna’s old acquaintances and a person who I’ve worked with before would willing to stab me in the back, but if he was he’d have to be a lot more prepared than this. I said as much when I pressed his scepter back into his hands.

Nivv didn’t stick around, leaving me and Valor alone. My wolf nudged at me and licked my face, his tension eased.

The wind quieted and I felt like I could think again. 

What the hell was going on? I couldn’t even remember what I was just thinking about. Were we honestly going stir crazy after only a day in an enclosed space? That didn’t seem right.

Every asura on the ship tried to avoid each other for the rest of the day, casting distrusting eyes on their krewemates and myself. The lionguard seemed on edge as well. The only person who seemed to have any sense of control was the airship captain, a norn with a hammer on his back and an adherent of wolf if the tattoos are anything to go by. He stopped me in the hall after dinner under the pretense of wanting my input on flying over Bitterfrost Frontier as I had been there before. But I could tell that what he really wanted was to know more about Valor. Guardians aren’t known for their animal companions after all. The captain nodded in understanding when I told him that Valor had once been a shrine wolf, that the shaman had tasked me with healing his wounds after rescuing her wolves from the Svanir, and that he’s been with me ever since as support for my mental wellbeing rather than as a ranger companion. The captain nodded as he listened and scratched Valor behind the ears. Said that Wolf must see me in a good light to allow me one of his wolves. Yeah I dunno about that. 

The captain then asked if I had noticed anything unusual going in with the asura krewe. He seemed to have noticed that some of his lionguard acting suspicious and on edge, or being found in the cargo hold when they had duties elsewhere, or hesitating at the controls before following his orders. That didn’t sound good. Sounds like both crew and krewe are acting out when they should be more professional than this. It was worrying but the captain said that we should reach the Eye by the end of the day tomorrow and it would be easier to sort this all out once on solid ground. He bid me goodnight and that Wolf watch over me.

I think that was the longest span of time throughout the entire day where the wind wasn’t howling in my head.

The next morning we were flying over territory unfamiliar to my eyes. We had to be getting close to the Eye. Tensions hadn’t eased but nothing had exploded. Nivv wrung his hands and avoided my gaze when I asked if his krewe would be able to at least do the work when we touched down. The last thing I wanted was to essentially have come all this way for nothing. I know Gixx wanted Priory footprints in the snow, but fat lot of good that does him if the promised transportation isn’t there.

I needed to calm down, I was just adding to the tension and unease. Someone was going to snap at this rate and I couldn’t let it be me.

By midday I decided to check on the cargo hold again. The crates definitely didn’t have those dents yesterday. They weren’t the small indents that could be waved away by some rough handling. They were caved in and clumsily strewn across the floor, one spreading crystalline dust like blood out of a newly formed crack. The turbulence hadn’t been that violent. It was clearly sabotage. 

I sprinted from the hold, calling for Nivv when the airship suddenly listed sharply to the side, causing me to lose my footing. The airship swung wildly again and I slammed into a wall that was acting more as a floor. 

The wind was deafening.

Nivv’s crates could wait. I needed to make it to the bridge.

Alarms were blaring and the windows were almost a solid white from a blizzard. But that wasn’t the part that shocked me when I reached the bridge.

The human engineer from the day before was at the controls, spinning wheels and throwing switches seemingly at random. But the lionguard pilot and navigator, one with blood on his temple, were desperately trying to wrestle him away. The airship was still spinning wildly and it felt like we were rapidly losing altitude. 

And the captain just watched.

I didn’t have the time to think my actions through, I needed that time to act instead.

I rushed forwarded and wove my way in-between the struggling lionguards and threw a fist at the engineer’s solar plexus. He doubled over immediately, air knocked knocked out of him, and I was able to drag him away and allow the pilot and navigator to reassert control. 

The captain still showed no reaction.

The wind had risen to a roar.

The tension cracked when Nivv charged in, demanding to know what was going on. The blank expression on the captain’s face never changed, but his stance shifted. I moved at the same time. I slid in front of Nivv, my shield rippling into existence just in time for the captain’s hammer to ricochet harmlessly off the shiny surface. 

I had to think fast. The bridge of an airship was not the ideal place for a fight. Fire magic was out of the question and my sword could easily damage the controls. My staff might have been my best option, casting from range and drawing the captain away the bridge and the now terrified pilot and navigator.

The captain raised his hammer again but instead of falling, a mass of fur slammed into the captain, knocking him off his feet. Teeth sunk into his wrist, forcing him to drop the hammer and scream in pain, his first natural reaction out this entire encounter.

I dropped my shield and ran to my wolf. Valor had the captain at his mercy, holding him in place and tightening his jaw at any movement he didn’t like. This gave me some time to get some answers.

The captain though was worse off than Calli. He didn’t know what he was doing. A voice had been gnawing at his mind, telling him that the asuran krewe couldn’t be allowed to succeed in their mission. Why? He had no idea. He couldn’t even say who the voice in his head belonged too. But he thanked Wolf for bringing him to his senses before he did something he regretted. 

I didn’t think that was good enough. We where still hours from the eye and who knew how long before the waypoint and the gate were operational, if they could even be brought online after the pummeling their crate’s took. The captain maybe remorseful now, but there was still time for sabotage. In my opinion, he and the still dazed engineer should be thrown in the brig and LA radioed. That is if the pilot could make the landing without the captain’s instructions. 

I studying the subdued captain and mentally calculating the distance from LA for backup, when the wind fell silent and the snow stopped. Outside the windows, the sky was a glorious glow of oranges and pinks. It shouldn’t have been that late in the day yet. And unless the pilot still hadn’t gotten us on course, we shouldn’t be seeing the sunset through the bow windows. The sunset glistened and flew closer.

It wasn’t the sunset, it was Aurene!

The Prismatic Dragon circled the airship, a rainbow left in her wake. Her voice, somehow both within my head and out, gently instructed the airship to follow her to make a landing at the Eye.

The affect of the dragon was like taking a breath after being under water, everything felt calm and right. I placed my hand on Valor’s head and he released the captain from his jaws. The captain would still have to answer for his actions, but for right now I don’t think anyone will try anything while under Aurene’s shadow.

The Eye of the North was just like the stories, huge and imposing but most importantly safe. And being in a sheltered valley, the worse of the Shiverpeaks weather didn’t hit quite so hard. A few bears and wild wolves eyed us from the undergrowth, but a few demonstrations of my fire magic kept them there.

Aurene watched as we unloaded the airship into the main vestibule. As I had suspected, some of the components had been damaged. Crystalline filaments were shattered and the dust contaminated. Aurene offered to create any necessary crystal components the krewe may need and then she bidded us to her lair at the scrying pool, saying that she owed us an explanation.

As suspected by her presence here, Aurene was the anonymous client who had commissioned for the waypoint and reactivated asuran gate. She did not elaborate on how this was paid for. She then apologized to us. According to her, the voices and thoughts that had been in our heads was Jormag. Aurene had thought that with it’s mouthpiece Drakkar under threat, an airship could have slipped into the Shiverpeaks unnoticed. But she had underestimated Jormag and just how much of a threat a Tyrian foothold in the Eye would be to the Ice Dragon. The violence onboard the airship was solely Jormag’s responsibility. But now that we were under Aurene’s wings here at the Eye, we were outside of their influence. And if the campaign against Drakkar is successful, that influence would end permanently. 

However that campaign ended, Aurene still wanted the Eye up and running for Tyrian use. The krewe had a few days at most to complete their task. I have to patrol to perimeter, almost a vacation after that trip. The airship crew needed to take that time to assess for damages. And the captain...well he said he was going out into the forest to mediate on Wolf and not to worry about him. 

I hope Wolf keeps him, and all of us safe. And if not, I know Aurene will.

[anghraine]

pro patria, chapters 57-63

“How is it that a civilian like you sees more combat than any ten soldiers I know? You’re making us look bad, my lady.” I laughed. “That’s simply not possible—you Seraph are the real heroes.” Most of them, anyway.

title: pro patria (57-63/?) stuff that happens: Althea helps Hiroki and the Vigil protect children from the undead, and decides where to go from there.

verse: Ascalonian grudgefic characters/relationships: Althea Fairchild, Crusader Hiroki, Agent Ihan; Tactician Sarrena, other Vigil soldiers, Scholar Josir, Logan Thackeray; Althea & Hiroki, Althea & Ihan chapters: 1-7, 8-14, 15-21, 22-28, 29-35, 36-42, 43-49, 50-56

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FIFTY-SEVEN

1 As I waited for Hiroki to buckle on even more armour, I dredged up a sympathetic smile for Josir, who to his credit, didn’t seem to hold any particular grudge. Then I cast a sideways glance at Ihan. “Will the Order of Whispers be working with me in the future?” I asked. “Absolutely,” he said firmly. “You’ll be seeing a great deal more of us in the future. Good luck.” It wasn’t everyone who could sound both menacing and reassuring at once. 2 Silently, I walked over to Hiroki. “Lychcroft Mere is a dangerous place, even without the undead swarming about,” she warned. “I hope you’re ready for it.” Five minutes before, I would have doubted it. Challenged, though, I felt myself again. I smiled at her. “I’m ready for anything.” 3 While she finished managing her armour, I took off for the swamp, not even bothering to preserve my clothes. The lives of children mattered more; besides, there was no preserving anything from this. At the edge of the swamp, Hiroki stepped out; she seemed to have reached it considerably in advance of me, despite the weight of her armour. Vigil training must be something else. “Glad to see you, Advocate,” she told me, “but I wish I had better news. We’ve got a problem.” More than one problem, I’d think. 4 It turned out that the squad supposed to meet us had already been overrun; the area, Hiroki said, was crawling with Risen. Now we had both the children and her soldiers to rescue—and it’d be just the two of us doing it. “Don’t worry, Hiroki,” I told her. “I can handle myself in a fight. If you’re willing, we can rescue your soldiers, and then find those kids.” She looked me up and down, perhaps taking in my total lack of armour and largely decorative sword, but nodded. “Your courage does you credit.” 5 “Vigil soldiers are well-trained, dedicated, and determined to defend Tyria,” she said. “You’d fit right in.” I couldn’t quite see it. Me, a soldier? Me, taking orders from anyone but my queen and her advisors—and from a Charr, of all people? If they wanted to fight the dragons too, fine, but I’d never answer to one. Still, I was flattered. 6 Hiroki went on, “If my squad followed protocol, they’ll have dug in to wait for reinforcements. We’ll need to look for a makeshift bunker.” She drew her sword. “There’s no time to waste. If we want to find those children, and my soldiers, we have to hurry.” “Then let’s go,” I told her, and followed her example, grasping my sceptre in one hand and my sword with the other. “I”ll lead the way.” 7 I’d never fought anything like Risen before. They wandered around, muttering to themselves—they talked?—and rushed heedlessly towards us as soon as we drew near enough to see. Up close, they were even more repugnant than at a distance, with ashen skin drawn tight over swollen veins, and patches of flesh sometimes peeling right off and sloshing in the water. Their eyes were dull and vacant, even as they furiously flung themselves at us. One woman—or thing that had been a woman—sprang at me with her hands curled into claws, teeth bared, yet there was no rage or ferocity in her face, nothing at all. Just before I slashed aether through her, she whispered, “So … tired …” I shuddered. FIFTY-EIGHT 1 The Risen kept appearing, and we kept slaughtering them. There was nothing else to do—and some horrified part of me thought it might be a kindness. In a moment of respite, Hiroki muttered, “The undead don’t gather like this without cause. I can only imagine what horror was behind this.” “You think something’s driving them on?” I asked. “Or someone?” She shook her head. 2 It seemed more a gesture of dismay than a negative. I swallowed. “If there are undead here, the children could be in grave danger,” she said, and her face grew still grimmer. We paused near a tree growing out of rising ground that gradually sloped up into a small, rocky hill. It offered a shelter of sorts, though not one that would repel the undead for long. “It’s hard to believe anyone could survive here for long,” said Hiroki. From around the edge of the hill, a voice whispered, “Crusader Hiroki!” 3 A sylvari poked her head out from behind the rocks. Suspicious of everything, I kept my weapons drawn, even as I looked at her curiously. I’d seen the occasional sylvari in Divinity’s Reach, but not many, and never spoken to one. “Thank the Pale Tree,” she said, her voice light and soft, “you’re a sight for sore eyes!” Hiroki strode over to her, gesturing at me to follow, and after a moment’s hesitation, I decided to trust her judgment. We made our way around the rocks, where we found a few other Vigil members, most noticeably a Norn and a tiny armoured Asura, and a shivering group of children. “It’s good to see you’re still alive, Sarrena,” Hiroki said. 4 The sylvari, Sarrena, quickly caught us up on the sequence of events—the Vigil squad had indeed found children in the swamp, but were attacked and overrun as they tried to help them, and dug in to repel the attack. “It’s not going well, Crusader,” she concluded. “The Risen have pinned us down and inflicted heavy casualties. As the commander of this unit, I take full responsibility.” Hiroki looked sternly at her. “Remember your oath, Sarrena; your soldiers swore to protect the innocent, and that’s exactly what they did. We are the light in the darkness.” 5 “The soldiers in your command died with honour.” Sarrena gave a shaky nod. “What do we do now, Hiroki?” I asked. Hiroki turned her steady gaze on me. “This isn’t over yet, Advocate. Not while there are still people lost in the swamp out there. The mission will go on.” 6 I felt, all at once, disappointed, relieved, nervous, and resolved. Setting all but the last aside, I listened to the plan: we’d hold off the undead, and when the Risen’s lines broke—when, it would definitely be when—we’d lead the children out of the swamp. With the other Vigil holding the east and flanks, Hiroki and I braced ourselves at the center. Behind me, one of the children said, “Please, help me! Don’t let them eat me!” I’d never thought of what Risen ate, or if they did, but this seemed entirely probable. “I won’t let anyone harm you,” I promised, and added, “I swear it by Dwayna!” 7 Across the way, the Norn asked the Asura, “What’s wrong, little one? Scared, or just green?” Sarrena turned a scowl on him; I hadn’t known sylvari could scowl, or at least ever did. “And what, pray tell, is wrong with being green?” “Uh … nothing, ma’am,” mumbled the Norn. “It’s just a turn of phrase.” The Asura sniffed but otherwise ignored all this; it was a human who cried out, “Turn your ‘phrase’ to battle, soldier—here they come!” FIFTY-NINE 1 The battle was, truth to tell, not very interesting. This is not to say that it made for an easy fight. We were heavily outnumbered, and with children huddled behind us, we couldn’t afford the slightest break in our lines. Moreover, we had enemies that never wearied, never relented, never surrendered. I was panting, flinging every scrap of magic I possessed after them. They didn’t see through the clones, thankfully, but I could only cast so many of them before collapsing, and we had wave after wave to fight off. But really, once you’ve seen one Risen, you’ve seen them all. 2 “Incoming!” shouted the Asura. “Incoming! Too many to count!” “You’re a big help—what kind of Asura can’t count?” returned the Norn. Beside me, Hiroki raised her shield yet again. “Ready your weapons, not your sarcasm, you idiots! Incoming!” 3 By the third wave of undead, a soldier cried out, “They’re closing from all sides. We’re done for!” I nearly rolled my eyes; I’d never seen any point in mourning a loss before actually losing—least of all now. “Don’t give up,” cried Sarrena. “Crusader Hiroki will see us through!” Hiroki spared them barely a glance. “Mouths shut, eyes open, soldiers.” 4 Finally, the Risen attack ceased, the few survivors—for a certain value of survivors—ambling away. “The undead are falling back!” I cried. “Their lines are broken—we’ve won!” Hiroki grinned. “This is our chance to get the children out.” Before we could try, however, we found Sarrena barely breathing, multiple slashes down her body oozing a nasty-looking goop. “Leave me,” she mumbled, “I”m not afraid to die.” 5 I froze. I didn’t know her, but— “The Vigil doesn’t leave anyone behind, Sarrena,” snapped Hiroki. “You don’t have my permission to die, do you hear me?” Sarrena gave a weak nod. “I hear you, Crusader. And … thank you.” 6 “We can go out the way we came in,” I told them. “Move fast, keep the children together, and don’t stop unless you absolutely have to.” Belatedly, I realized that I was giving order to Vigil troops, of all people. Hiroki, however, just said, “Agreed. Vigil! Move out!” And that was that. 7 We made our way back without incident, one of the recruits and I scouting out to recover the other children and villagers lost in the swamp. At the sight of a small sylvari garrison in the distance, I could nearly have kissed someone. “Don’t worry about me,” said Sarrena quietly. “Worry about the children.” “Worry about both,” Hiroki replied. She clearly wasn’t one for meaningless martyrdom, which I honestly would not have been surprised at from the likes of the Vigil; I respected her all the more for it. “Let’s go!” SIXTY 1 At the outpost, we found a peculiar mix of trees, arching buildings growing out of the earth, and a towering plant—at least twice my height—spreading out in levels until the top, where it blossomed into winding flowers. Bright, clear water cascaded down the plant, creating a fountain of sorts. Flowery turrets emerged from the ground. Altogether, it made for an odd but reassuring place. Several Vigil members immediately led Sarrena over to the fountain, where she sat on the ledge of one of the leaves—evidently stouter than they looked—and drank down the water. She already looked more stalwart than I would have thought imaginable, and her smile was warm and steady. “Your quick thinking saved those children,” she said. 2 That was the thing about being a hero—getting credit for things you never could have done without other people. “The Vigil could use a soldier like you,” she added. I had no idea what to say to that; I was flattered when people called me a soldier, but I didn’t feel at all like one. More of a … a … I didn’t quite know what to call it. I didn’t belong to any of the groups I worked with, the Seraph or the Vigil or anyone. I'd always been a lone agent who sometimes worked with other organizations, but never quite belonged. Maybe that was why I’d become so dissatisfied, I thought; I was lonely. 3 “Are you all right?” I asked Sarrena, distracting myself from my own concerns. “Will you … regrow?” “What?” she said, then laughed. “Oh, my wounds—yes, I’ll heal, thank you. We sylvari are a hardy race, even if we don’t look it.” I glanced around at their garden of an outpost; they really didn’t look it, but they must be, to hold this place. “How did you get involved with the Vigil?” 4 “From awakening,” she told me, “the sylvari know we must fight the dragons. The Vigil gives me that opportunity. I’m honoured to be here.” I absorbed this, trying to imagine such a life—directed towards such a task from … well, however sylvari came into the world. Being a noble wasn’t quite the same. “Awakening?” I said. “Is that the sylvari version of being born?” 5 She beamed at me. “Yes, exactly! We step, fully-formed, from the Pale Tree. How are you humans made?” I coughed. “Uh, let’s discuss this some other time, Sarrena. Get some rest.” 6 I didn’t quite flee, but some things I was definitely not going to discuss with a stranger from a species I’d scarcely encountered and didn’t understand. Or with anyone, really. I retreated to one of the earthen buildings, where one of the children was crouched. She looked up at me as I ducked inside, her fearful expression melting into a relieved smile. “You’re my very brand new hero!” she said. Then her smile faded. “I used to like the Seraph, but after I saw that man with the undead—I don’t like them anymore!” 7 Wait, what? A Seraph with the undead? How—why— “Whoa there, little one,” I said, kneeling beside her. “What Seraph?” “The bad man in the swamp,” said the little girl. “He was wearing Seraph armour, and muttering to himself, and he was really scary.” SIXTY-ONE 1 “I think the undead came to talk to him,” she added. Came to—what? “Did you recognize this Seraph?” I asked urgently, but at her alarmed look, forced my voice back to its usual even tones. “Was he alive, like me, or was he like the Risen?” “Oh, he was alive,” she assured me, her eyes wide. “The undead didn’t attack him, either. They just followed him around.” 2 She seemed to know no more than that—which was more than enough to disturb me. A Seraph, working with the undead? This was beyond even Tervelan. Well, maybe not, but damn near the same thing. I led the child out to the Vigil, to be guided back home, and stood at the edge of the swamp, kicking over some nasty plants the garrison’s leader had described as products of the Risen’s influence. A Seraph. Logan had to hear about this. 3 Methodically, I washed my sword off in the swamp, watching the smears of undead flesh slide off into the water. Speaking of things the Althea of last year couldn’t have imagined me doing! The clatter of armour alerted me to a Vigil member’s presence before I turned and saw Hiroki. “Without you, Advocate,” she said, “my soldiers and those children would have been lost.” Perhaps she’d thought my only duty was overseeing the mission on Jennah’s behalf; I was her advocate, after all, not her captain. If so, then yes, I’d gone beyond that—but even back in the palace, I’d understood that Jennah expected more than simply making the decision. I didn’t mind; if anything, I felt honoured to serve Kryta, and all the more in the company of the Vigil. 4 “It was my honour to fight with the Vigil,” I said frankly, and met her steady blue eyes. Had she once felt the same way? She’d fought for Ebonhawke, as I’d always dreamed of doing, and apparently she still went out of her way to help Kryta—yet here she stood, a crusader in the armour of a Charr's army; something must have diverted her path from our people’s. I said, “Tell me how you came to join the Order.” “I was raised in Kryta,” she replied, and I nearly twitched, “but I joined the Ebon Vanguard hoping to do some good.” Perfectly understandable. “I joined the Vigil,” she went on, “when I realized that the dragons are a bigger threat than Charr.” 5 There, my understanding came to an abrupt halt. “But you don’t fight for Kryta and Ascalon any more,” I said, puzzled. “You take orders from Charr now. How do you justify that?” Hiroki didn’t seem insulted, just thoughtful, even sympathetic. “The battlefield changes how we see the world,” she told me. “Honourable Charr, traitorous humans—in the end, what matters most is that Tyria survives.” 6 Yes, but— “Makes sense to me,” I lied. Tyria had always survived, but we had duties to our people, to what remained of our homeland, and to the one so many of us now called home. Hiroki, evidently, felt differently. I didn’t press her further, just continued, “Take care, Hiroki. I’ll see you again soon.” “You will,” she assured me. 7 I left Lychcroft Mere without looking back, and headed to Salma District—not only my home, but where I was to meet the order representatives again. I went to my manor first, however, soaked as I was in swamp water, and stinking of rotten plants and undead. As I passed by, an old soldier who’d been posted in Salma for years gave me a quizzical look and said, “How is it that a civilian like you sees more combat than any ten soldiers I know? You’re making us look bad, my lady.” I laughed. “That’s simply not possible—you Seraph are the real heroes.” Most of them, anyway. SIXTY-TWO 1 I found the three representatives with Logan, near some trees halfway through the district. The former were bickering again, the latter glancing tiredly away. At the sight of me, he gave a relieved smile, and gestured for me to join them. “We need to deal the undead a decisive blow,” Hiroki was saying. Ihan shook his head. “There’s an intelligence to their movements; we need to discover the root of the problem—not just follow them from fight to fight.” “At the cost of lives?” she burst out. 2 Logan cleared his throat. “Althea,” he said, “the representatives have reported your success. Well done.” “Thank you, Logan,” I replied. “I’m glad we saved the children, but the undead are still a problem.” Josir, who had remained quiet through what I’d heard of the debate, coughed. “I’m told that the children saw a Seraph soldier in the swamp—and their stories are quite appalling; they were as frightened of him as the undead.” 3 “If this was that soldier,” Josir went on, “the children say he’s become violent and incoherent. They also say that the undead weren’t attacking him.” I nearly shivered. Why would they accept the living among them? And what living being could tolerate it? “There aren’t any Seraph outposts in Lychcroft Mere,” I said, and glanced over at Logan. “What’s a lone soldier doing out there?” 4 He looked thoughtful. After a few seconds, he said, “According to Seraph reports, a corporal named Kellach didn’t report for duty. I’d assumed he was away without leave in Lion’s Arch, but maybe there’s more to it.” “This Kellach could be under Zhaitan’s influence,” I said, eager for a lead. “Could he be inciting the Risen, and making them more aggressive? Maybe he’s a necromancer?” “We don’t have time for theories, Advocate,” Hiroki said shortly. 5 Vigil scouts, it transpired, had found more undead approaching a small town called Triskell Quay; Zhaitan’s corruption was spreading further into Kessex Hills. “If so,” said Ihan, “then Triskell Quay is just a symptom. Whatever’s drawing the undead inland will continue to do so even if we save the town. We should investigate what happened to Kellach—he may be the key to these attacks. Until we know what’s going on, we’re just plugging leaks.” It was a hard logic, but logic all the same. I couldn’t disagree. 6 Hiroki looked even more furious. “You want to go on a wild goose chase, Ihan? Fine. But don’t risk Triskell Quay—we need soldiers to defend the town, or people will die.” I bit my lip, and turned my eyes back to Logan. He was glancing between Hiroki and Ihan, but his face revealed nothing. “A few will die now,” argued Ihan, “but we’d be saving many in the long run.” 7 In his dryest voice, Logan said, “It’s a good thing that the decision’s not up to you.” He turned back to me. “Advocate, it’s in your hands.” Josir turned out to have no particular plan beyond searching the Priory archives for information, though he wished me good luck, while Hiroki’s plan was no different than the one back in Lychcroft Mere. I took a deep breath, then walked over to Ihan. He said abruptly, “We need your decision. Do you choose to go with the Vigil, or to go with the Order of Whispers?” SIXTY-THREE 1 I hated leaving an entire town to the undead, but I knew that we’d see many more towns devastated by them if we didn’t find out what was going on. Still, I eyed Ihan with some suspicion. “Is it typical strategy for the Order of Whispers to sneak around, working beneath the surface?” I half-expected some excuse, but he simply inclined his head. “It is,” he said. “No use charging into battle if you don’t know what you’re up against. We’ll need cunning to defeat the dragons.” 2 That seemed, unfortunately, quite true. Hiroki and Sarrena and I had nearly walked into our deaths in Lychcroft Mere. If we’d had better information, Hiroki’s other soldiers might still be alive. Really, it was hard to think of a situation that wouldn’t have been improved by greater knowledge of its circumstances, or that hadn't benefited from greater knowledge. Although I never backed down from fights, I didn’t go looking for them; I did happily set off after clues and leads. I wasn’t happy about it this time, but—well. “I’m ready to decide,” I said. 3 “Do you go with the Order of Whispers?” asked Ihan. I gave a firm nod. “Yes. We need to know where that soldier’s headed.” “Excellent choice, Advocate,” he said, seeming neither surprised nor complacent. “You’ll be very pleased with your decision.” I tried not to think of Triskell Quay. 4 “I hope so.” I’d been there before. When I was making my map of Kessex Hills, I’d poked into Triskell Quay's crevices, talked to the villagers. They’d been pleasant, grateful for the little services I performed in exchange, friendly to strangers in general. I never imagined they might be enduring a siege of undead. I certainly wouldn't have imagined that I'd leave them to their fate. “I’ll see you there,” I told him. 5 Hiroki remained firm in her priorities; there were few situations, she said, that a good broadsword couldn’t handle. I took my leave with some regret; I liked her a great deal, but I didn’t agree at all. Logan might. But when I consulted him, he only replied, “Queen Jennah said you’d be able to soothe their ruffled feathers.” His mouth gave a little quirk. “For your sake, I hope she’s right.” I realized that I had no idea how Queen Jennah received disappointments, least of all weighty ones—something that the Advocate of the Crown really should know. 6 “So do I,” I said. Regardless, it was gratifying to know as much as I did: that this confidence in my abilities came not only from Anise’s and Logan’s influences, but from the queen herself. “Ihan and I won’t need troops,” I told Logan. “Will you be sending some to Triskell Quay?” “I already have,” he said. Of course—I didn’t need to tell him his job. “Good.” 7 With that, I strode back towards the others. They no longer seemed to be arguing, though Hiroki looked unhappy. “I’m glad you decided so quickly,” she said, after a pause. “Good luck, and no hard feelings.” I nodded awkwardly. Ihan, gracious in victory, added, “You chose with your heart, Advocate. That’s all anyone can ask.”

[whiskeyworen]

Tenna - Dangerous Creatures

It happened so fast.

One moment, they were cruising along above the jungle, and the order was given to open fire. Like many of its sister ships, the Vengeance Rising trained its cannon down at the thick, dark jungle. What they were firing on was unknown, but presumably someone had spotted Mordrem monster groups, or their giant, toothy-plant champion...things.

Tenna was below decks, preparing a dataslate to present to the captain. Most of the Priory crew was looking askance at her, particularly the asura crewmen; tales of her experiments had already spread far and wide. Were it not for a formal edict from Steward Gixx, which demanded she show for duty despite the injunctions placed on her, she wouldn't have been on the ship at all.

Satisfied the TO&E was correct, she headed up to the bridge, just as the first volleys were being fired.

"Captain, here's the information you wanted." She handed the slate over to the tall sylvari. He took it from her, and gave it barely a glance before handing it back.

"Good, Tenna... good." He nodded, and began to head down from the overhanging bridge to walk the deck. Tenna followed, simply as a matter of protocol; she had not been dismissed yet. "I'm glad to see everything is in order."

"Yessir, Captain Rhinffrew." She replied crisply. She noted the cannons rippling with fire, making the ship shudder, and could see through the viewpanes that other ships were opening fire as well. "I take it we have headed into the engagement zone?"

"You are correct." Rhinffrew nodded, frowning. "Word from the Glory of Tyria is that there's quite a lot of Mordrem mobilized below. We're hoping to...thin their numbers."

"With your permission then, sir, I'd like to get back to the munitions." Tenna bowed slightly. "We might need quite a lot, given how big the jungle is."

Rhinffrew held up a finger, not looking at her. "A moment, Tenna. There is... something..."

It was at that moment that something enormous, sharp-edged, and green launched from somewhere in the jungle depths. It was a coil of iron-hard jungle vines, each one wider than the entire engine assembly of the Vengeance Rising, swirled around each other into a vaguely spear-like shape, and moving at a speed that amazingly broke the sound barrier.

The tower-sized spear -- or tendril, properly -- of plant matter lanced across the bow of the Vengeance, to rip into the belly of another, nearby ship. Tenna and everyone else watched in horror as the vines not only speared the ship through and through, but apparently opened up like a flower within the hull, spreading thorned vines everywhere to shred through armor, bulkheads....people.

The entire ship was then lifted even higher into the air as the main tendril twisted and curled. In Tenna's eyes, the way the vine had split on impact and had grown around the now-foundering ship, it looked like a grand, long, arm of some terrible beast.

The Dragon had used a claw on the ship.

It had a great many of them to go around.

All around, ships were wracked with explosions as tendrils, launched from the forest and shredding the landscape beneath them, where they had been buried underground, ripped apart ship after ship. One ship was wrapped in a great, octopoidal tentacle of thorns, and squeezed vertically, its contents pouring out of the shattered hull and into the jungle below.

The Vengeance herself took a glancing strike that opened all the starboard compartments, ripping the cannons away and killing the majority of the guncrews on impact. Everyone lurched as the ship spun away, knocked sideways by the passing vine.

"Wheel is uncontrollable, Captain!" The helmsman called, cradling a broken wrist; on impact, the wheel had spun so hard and fast that it caught him offguard and snapped it like a twig. "We still have lift, but I think we've lost everything else!"

"Understood." Captain Rhinffrew shouted back, drawing his pistols. "Weapons up, people! We are probably going down, and it's not going to be friendly down there!"

At that moment, there was a deep, ultra-basso, guttural rumble from the south west, a sound that was almost entirely felt and not heard. But it was very much heard... especially by some people.

"What the hell was that?!" One crewman cried out, kneeling to help a staggering companion to their feet -- only to recieve a knife to the side of the neck in reply, as the person he helped suddenly straightened, and fluidly dispatched him. He went down in a welter of blood, gurgling in surprise.

From below decks there was a massive explosion, one that ripped upward through the hull and annihilated the hanging bridge -- the one Tenna had just been standing on. As she pulled herself to her feet, she called out. "I think the main engines are gone, Captain!"

"Thank you for that assessment, Tenna." He replied drily. "I believe you are correct."

She pointed at the blood-soaked sylvari, who was chuckling, staring at her hands with gruesome fascination. In the time it had taken Tenna to get back to her feet, the crazed person had taken down two more crewmates who had tried to restrain her. "I think there's something wrong with Elsbeth!"

"Oh she's perfectly fine." Rhinffrew chided her, smilingly broadly -- as he brought his pistol up and blew a hole through the helmsman. "After all, she serves Mordremoth! How could she be anything else?"

Mordremoth? Tenna repeated in her head. She glanced around the deck and realized that the only crew standing were sylvari. Each one had a strange, manic gleam in their eyes.

She didn't think. She just acted. With a mad dash, she leapt for one of the shattered windows, bullets and blades bouncing off the hull as the traitor sylvari tried to take her down.

Out on the main deck, she looked around for help, but... no. Every gun mount was shattered, their crew missing or dead. She was out of time.

"Tenna! Do come back!" Rhinffrew called playfully as he stepped through the shattered glass of the front windscreen. The fact that the ship was spiralling downward at a rapidly increasing rate didn't seem to concern him. "Our Master would love to make your acquaintance! Such a bright mind shouldn't go to waste!"

"Never!" She backed up against the railing, feeling for the edges. "The Dragon will never take me!"

He gave her a sad, pained look. "I would much rather bring you to him alive, but dead works too..."

With that, he swung the pistol up one final time and fired.

The last thing she felt was the bullet punching into her forehead. Then the lights went out.

Rhinffrew watched her go limp, and slump against the side of the railing. Her hand, loose and dead, pulled down by gravity, ended up yanking her escape glider's pullcord; it was the last thing she'd done before she died.

Before the Captain could grab her body, the glider caught the swirl of air disturbed by the rapid descent of the ship, and ripped her away, tossing her body into the wilds.

"Damnit." He cursed, holstering the pistol. "The Master could have used her."

He glanced over his shoulder to the surviving sylvari crew; anyone who had not heard the Call, or who had resisted it, were now lying below decks in spreading pools of blood and ichor. Only the faithful remained. "Right! Abandon ship! Once it crashes, we'll come back and get supplies!"

****

Hours later

Priory archivist Nemo glanced around from the underbrush. It wasn't safe to leave the brush with his small, surviving team. They'd managed to jump from their ship as it was brought down by vines, and had ended up sneaking for several hours through the thick, dank jungle. Along the way, they had dodged Mordrem patrols, run from massive saurian beasts, and narrowly escaped a toxic cloud sprayed by some damned huge insect.

All of it could drive a guy to paranoia.

An hour or so ago, another airship, one from the second or third wave, had crashed into the canopy, tearing a right big hole in it. At the very least, they'd be able to scavenge some supplies, additional weapons, and maybe some shelter from its hull. Worst case scenario... it'd be swarming with Mordrem. Whether it was traitor sylvari, actual Mordrem, or their monstrous duplicate beasts.

"Do you see anything down there?" A thick Norn voice whispered over his shoulder.

"No... there's nothing that I can see." He replied, turning to give a short wave to the rest of the team. There was only four of them... and one of them was a sylvari.

"Let's get down there and get some supplies." Nemo told them. He cast an eye at the sylvari. "... You go first, Trent."

The sylvari, with a somber nod, moved ahead to be on point. He had no weapons; he'd willingly surrendered them to his teammates the moment he'd encountered them. Even though he'd declared his innocence and loyalty to the Pact and the Pale Tree, he knew they wouldn't believe him. The fact they hadn't killed him immediately was something he'd grasped onto and was unwilling to give up. If he made himself useful, even if it was a suicide mission...at least he wouldn't die to allies.

The team worked its way down to the wreckage, sidestepping gear that was on fire and broken mechanisms. The ship had come down through the thick boughs of the jungle trees, getting wedged in them, and sat about fifty feet above the jungle floor. From the look of things, neither Mordrem nor beast had invaded the site yet. The Pact had though... post-humously.

Bodies littered the ground... some of them in several pieces.

"Gods..." Nemo hissed, shaking his head. "Okay. We'll break up into teams. You two, search for supplies. Trent... you're with me."

At the sylvari's questioning gaze, he sighed. "...we have some graves to dig."

A few hours later, the last grave was filled in. With a few words of farewell from each faith, the team turned to leave. They'd found a decent amount of supplies, and rigged a piece of hull plate to be a sled, pulled by the Norn and the Charr in their group.

Just as they were heading out, Trent coughed and drew Nemo's attention. He didn't dare tap the Archivist on the shoulder; that would have earned a quick death. When Nemo looked at him, Trent pointed up, glancing at something he'd spotted just a minute ago. "...we missed one."

Nemo looked up, and sure enough, there was another body. This one though... he shook his head. "'Fraid we can't do anything for that one. Hope the Eternal Alchemy gives her peace though."

With reluctance, the team moved on, leaving the burgundy-haired asura corpse in its place.

The indignities Tenna's body had suffered over the last day just kept piling up. In addition to the bullet-hole in her forehead, the glider hadn't lasted longer than a minute in the heavily congested airspace of the jungle. Shredded remnants of it still hung from her limp form where it sat.

After the glider had ripped, her corpse had fallen through the treeline, bouncing off branch after branch, bones snapping with each impact, until she'd come to rest in the Y of a branch about a hundred feet off the forest floor.

Then the airship came down. The needle prow had, by misfortune, impaled her body quite severely, freeing it from its wooden resting place, and left her where the team had seen her. Fifty feet off the ground, with a razor-sharp ship's prow through her torso. They hadn't even noticed her blood dripping to the ground, because it was so dispersed as it fell.

Somewhere between that day, and the next morning, life had begun to return to the area. Birds, monkeys, insects; all things that had been scared by the ship crash had filtered back to the area. A few birds even landed on Tenna's body, using her as a perch -- until their weight dislodged her body.

With a wet, crunchy slap, her body -- torn wide open by the ship's prow -- smacked into the ground. Somehow, even after a day or two of being dead, her body was still bleeding.

Bleeding, which attracted predators. Such as the massive Stonehead that suddenly rounded the bend. It snuffled the air, detecting the scent of blood and viscera in the area. The beast hadn't eaten properly in the last two days, what with all the chaos in the forest that it couldn't understand. Its brain, barely bigger than a loaf of bread, simply couldn't comprehend how its world had changed, what new dangers might exist.

But it did know the smell of food.

A few ground-shaking, puddle-jittering steps later, it was at the corpse of the little asura. Its arms were too small to reach out and grip, so it merely nudged her body, and licked a little at the puddle of blood she'd left. Satisfied that it tasted like meal, the Stonehead lowered its head and quite simply swallowed her corpse whole. That done, its belly pleasantly full, it turned and began to head back to its cave nearby.

****

Inside the Stonehead, something unnatural was occuring. The shattered ribcage and spine of the asura began to slowly knit together. Spilled entrails pulled back, winding into their proper places. Holes in organs sealed. Torn flesh knit.

The bodily destruction of Tenna had finally started to reverse itself, now that it had been freed from the bow of the ship. That metal blade had halted healing efforts, leaving her dead.

A lead bullet slowly, painfully pushed its way out of her forehead, falling into the soup of the stomach of the Stonehead, while the bone sealed up.

There was issue with the skin though. As much as Tenna's body tried to heal itself, her skin was having a hard time fighting against the digestive juices of the saurian.

Tenna's eyes flashed open, a raging orange in the darkness, and the beast within screamed.

****

The Stonehead had finally made it back to its cave, amongst a pack of its own kind. The last few miles seemed to be weighing on it in a way it couldn't understand. It... didn't feel well.

That's when the pain set in. It started as an itch in its belly, but began to spread, until its entire belly felt like it was on fire.

The Stonehead roared in pain, but that roar was cut to a squeal of pain, leaving the beast reeling in agony. Other Stoneheads turned at the sound, curious as to what was going on. They could see their companion stomping around, flailing in pain and rage at something they couldn't see. It was strange.

That's when the rippling below the surface of its hide began. Every Stonehead that saw it immediately backed away; they knew parasite behavior when they saw it. Not one wanted to be infected by...whatever was wrong with this one.

The flailing of the afflicted Stonehead began to slow, weaken, as it began to cough up blood. After a few ragged breaths, it pitched onto its side, its multi-ton weight shattering the rock beneath it and sending minor shockwaves in all directions. A few moments later, it exhaled one final time, a disgusting gurgle of blood and gore.

For a few moments, there was silence. Stoneheads crept closer, curious about the death of their kin. The rippling below its skin increased with fervor, as if something inside knew its host was dead.

A rip appearred in the beast's belly. From inside, a gore-streaked, four-fingered claw reached out, grasping at the air with a frantic movement. Frantic... or angry.

Another claw appearred, and both gripped the edges of the wound, and slid down, razor-edges slicing the flesh with a rather horrible, wet zipper-like sound. Blood and bile poured out, as well as pieces of organs and other items. Some of them were things that the now-deceased had swallowed while wandering around.

With a foreward somersault, a small, bloody, near-skinless form rolled out, collapsing into the small pile of organic detritus that had preceded it. It rapidly pulled itself to its feet, breathing raggedly and rapidly. Glowing orange eyes glared out from beneath its skinless brow.

The nearest Stonehead leaned in, and sniffed at this strange, strange thing. There was something about it that smelled wrong. So it resorted to the only thing its small brain could latch onto; it roared, attempting to intimidate the little thing into running away.

Instead, the little monster took a single deep breath, and roared right back, with a voice filled with so much rage, so much venom and vengeance, that the Stonehead actually flinched at the sound of it.

The Stonehead cast slow glances at its fellow broodmates, confused. They just looked at each other, the small gears in their brains grinding, until they made a decision. With a grunt, all of them turned and walked away, abandoning the cave glade entirely. Whatever this little thing was, it had already killed one of them. Maybe it'd go away if they took a hunt/walk.

The thing that was Tenna collapsed back against the corpse of the Stonehead she'd ripped her way out of, gasping in pain as her skin regrew. Without thinking, she reached out with one hand and tore a chunk out of the beast, before cramming the raw meat into her mouth.

If anyone sentient had been close enough to see her, they would have seen that her eyes were utterly blank. The Hunger was in control right now; Tenna wasn't home -- please leave a message.

****

It was another two days before a wandering Pact supply train passed by close enough for someone to notice the huge dead Stonehead laying on the ground. It looked like it had run afoul of a thresher; shattered bone lay splayed across the clearing, and it looked like it had been devoured by other predators.

"Jeez, I really hope we don't run into whatever could do that to a Stonehead." One Pact member grimaced. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, let's go. Nothing to see he-- hey wait! There's someone near it!"

The pair of soldiers rushed over with a medical kit, as Tenna sat up from where she'd flopped after her meal. She looked like hell, but she was alive.

"Glad to see you, boys." She smiled tiredly, her voice ragged. As they bandaged her wounds, she let her eyes travel over the ruin of the Stonehead. "There's some pretty dangerous things out in the jungle right now..."

She was one of them.

[the-noxxi]

Loving protection...

Spotty, wearing her early-morning pajama-like clothing with her slippers on walked into the main hall of her lab. She sat down and looked at her received letters. Browsing through them her gaze stuck on one and raised and eyebrow.

The letter was inside a hideously made envelope with no name or anything included on it. “What the...” Spotty murmured as the letter itself wasn’t paper, but a small piece of silk with embroidered letters. The message was a threat.

Spotty grunted, “Mail’em!” She yelled into the air, all annoyed. The name was always funny to her regardless of her sudden anger moments, it was just a simple combination of mail and golem with a perfect pun as a result.

Her little golem appeared quickly, “Yes—Madam?”

She sat back in her chair, “Mail’em, do you know anything about this particular mail? Who brought me this?”

“Source—of—message—unknown. It—was—left—on—the—ground—in—front—of—the—entrance.” Stated the golem.

Spotty crossed her arms, raising one hand to stroke her chin, thinking. “So someone dares to threaten me, but doesn’t dare to show their faces. Imbeciles. I can’t take this one seriously.” She threw away the letter, trying to crumple it up, which she couldn’t as it was silk, not paper. “Bah! Stupid letter.”

She turned around and took her cup of tea, “Hmpf, what a way to ruin my morning mood. At least threaten me in person and show some impression.” She sipped, trying to relax now. As much she tried to forget the letter, there was one little thought in her mind that bothered her.

“They surprisingly took a lot of effort to make that letter the way it is. I know basically anyone could make one if they took the time. Ah, I won’t let it bother me anymore, I will keep it in mind however.” She thought loudly

“Madam—can—I—leave—now?” The golem asked behind her.

“Oh! Yes, yes. Sorry.” She gestured with her hands to the golem that it can leave now in peace. “You can leave now, Mail’em.” She said, and so it did.

Hours later Spotty left her lab to go out to Rata Sum. Strolling through the floating city she went to the lower levels where some of her liked merchants were.

“Excelsior, Tolli. I will need more of your Bluechai flowers and some lemon juice for my special Spot Tea. I’m running low on tea again. How are you doing today, though?”

Tolli remained silent and searched for the asked ingredients.

Spotty shrugged her shoulders slightly, searching her pocket for silvers to pay with.

Tolli gave her a pouch of her flowers and a glass bottle of lemon juice while Spotty paid her with five silver.

“Thanks, Tolli. I will see you-” Spotty seemingly froze for a moment as Tolli handed back the change of thirty coppers. Spotty always gave the change to Tolli as a tip, so it was agreed on both parties that Spotty always pays with five silver and Tolli gives back no change to keep it as a tip.

Spotty’s gaze jumped from the coins up to Tolli with a suspicious look, and backed away a bit. Spotty swapped to a low and deeper tone, “You are not Tolli. She always keeps my change as a tip and more importantly she is never so silent. Who are you and-”

Spotty felt a sting coming from behind on her neck and flinched, “Ack! Oh you little!” It was some kind of a strong sedative, already taking effect.

The suspicious merchant looked at her, whispering “You could have walked away... but you enjoy talking.”

Spotty quickly felt dizzy and nauseous, her vision became blurry and slow, she started to sweat. “Ohhhh... yoouuu... skriiiiitttt-” She tried to cuss at her as she collapsed and went unconscious. Everything went dark.

While she might be unconscious, she was in a dream state, a meditative state which she was used to since as a progeny. Even unconsciously her rage was gathering inside her as she awaited to wake up. Rage was something that ran in the family.

When the sedative effect wore off Spotty awoke with a great burst of anger and a sudden scream. She was entirely wrapped in to not be able to move, only her ears, nose and mouth were out of the wrapping, no chance at peeking or moving her head though. She tried to calm down as fast as she could, keeping a cool head was important.

“We warned you to look where you go and who you talk to. You didn’t seem to take it seriously and keep yourself away from the city. Enjoy the consequences.” Said someone who approached Spotty.

She was held up within a machine which kept her floating inside a ring, upside down. “At least turn me back up, this way my blood just goes into my brain. You know, that way I may easily outsmart you.”

“Keep your mouth shut, girl.” Said a hoarse voice.

“Oh, excuse me, I’m just trying to give myself enough handicap against you so that this is all fair.” Spotty sighed calmly

One of the unknown Asura in the room hit the wall in annoyance, “Just shut her up, why did you have to leave her mouth open!?” Spotty perked her ears at this.

“Calm down imbecile! The boss still needs her.” Said the one standing in front of Spotty. “However, after that, you can do whatever you want with her.“

“Oh? The boss? You have a boss? Oh I see, yes, imbeciles always needed a boss to use them.” Spotty tauntingly spoke.

“Listen. Here. Girl.” The one in front of her spoke to her, trying to stay calm.

“Oh, do you have anger management issues?” Spotty interrupted him.

“Shut. Up.” He remained calm, but sure he was annoyed already.

“I had them too, meditation can help by the way. Your walls sound pretty weak that he can just punch it and crack it with his bare fists. What is this, some budget place?” She sighed and would have shrugged if she could.

The Asura squeezed her cheeks with his fingers as he leaned in close to her face to speak with a intimidating voice. “If I were you, I would really consider shutting your mouth real close. You are not the one here to taunt us.”

Spotty, with a squeezed mouth, replied, “If I were you, I would really consider making my walls from a better material.”

The Asura in the room remained silent.

Spotty sighed and repeated herself, “I said, If I were you, I would really consider making my walls from a better material.”

“We heard it first time.” They said.

“Oh, I’m not talking to you, I simply tried to make the situation a bit more, you know, epic?”

One of them raised an eyebrow and asked, “What are you even talking about?”

“My butler, silly.” Spotty smiled.

“Your... butler?” All of them looked at each other with an annoyed face in minor confusion. “Your... butler? Is going to stop us and save you? Seriously you are hilarious, I’m not even sure anymore what does our boss even want from you.”

Spotty perked her ears, a quiet noise could been heard from a distance through the walls. it kept repeating itself, becoming louder and louder, turning into a rumbling at each happening.

All of them in the room looked at each other again. “What the skritt was that?”

Spotty coughed and cleared he throat loudly, so they all looked at her. She gave them a vicious grin. “My butler.”

“Just grab her and let’s go already, we need to get away from here!” The tallest one grabbed and strapped her to his back and they all began to run. “Quick guys! This way!”

As soon they began to run a huge golem busted through the wall.

It was the B.U.T.L.E.R. Not any kind of butler, it was THE B.U.T.L.E.R.

“Targets—acquired. Initiating—saving—Lady—Spotty—protocol.” A part of the golem’s back and left hand turned into a huge shield that it kept in front of itself and charged at them.

The group of Asura kept running as fast as they could with Spotty attached to them. One of them stopped, “I will hold it back!” He yelled, “Come at me y-” the Asura had no chance to speak as the golem used its shielded arm and bluntly smashed him into the wall beside and continued its chase without any disturbance.

“The gates! Close the gates!” The group leader initiated the gates to close as they ran past them, but it was no bother for the golem as it broke through all of it without any issue.

“Good luck trying to slow it down with your weak and probably old gates or doors or even walls. You are being chased by a literal juggernaut I’ve created.” She laughed at them as they tried to catch their breathes while running.

Spotty sighed, “If any of you would have some competent brain you would know how to stop my golem.”

Suddenly another of them turned around and grabbed their gun to shoot at the charging golem as he just screamed in frustration. Shot by shot by shot, the shield deflected or stopped the bullets. The golem just recklessly ran toward the shooting Asura. It ended up with the same fate as the first one, no deaths, but sure it hurts to get smashed into a wall with a big force, probably a couple of broken bones.

The others been wheezing by now, getting exhausted from running, especially with a bit of a ‘weight’ at the back as well. “Wh-What is it!? HO-HOW DO YOU STOP IT!?” One yelled.

“Release me, you fool, how hard it is to think.” She rolled her unseen eyes and sighed softly.

The group decided to slow down and stopped, the one carrying Spotty put her on the floor. “STOP! STOP! SHE IS YOURS!” They yelled. The approaching golem stopped at Spotty.

“Lady—Spotty—reached. Initiating—personal—protection—and—escort—service.” The golem picked up Spotty and held her in its arms. The golem looked down at the three remaining Asura, then slammed them into the wall using its shield.

“Y-You.... said... it... it would.... s-stop....” One of them whimpered from the pain.

“I said it would stop, not that it wouldn’t attack, imbecile.” Spotty chuckled and shrugged.

The rest of them just groaned and whimpered in pain, probably from broken bones, falling to the ground.

“Tell your boss, he or she is free to visit me...in a proper way.”

The B.U.T.L.E.R. proceeded to unwrap Spotty and escorted her out of the place. “Is—Lady—Spotty—damaged?”

“Apart from the slight damage on my ego, I’m all fine. Unlike them.” She said annoyed.

“Damage—shall—soon—be—repaired. Lady—Spotty—should—not—worry.” Stated the golem with a seemingly very light confusion.

She giggled at the golem. “Heh, thank you B.U.T.L.E.R., I love you.” She smiled.

“The—B.U.T.L.E.R.—loves—Lady—Spotty—as—well. The—B.U.T.L.E.R.—shall—protect—Lady—Spotty—forever.” The golem said as it carried Spotty away in its protective arms, while it casually broke its way out and walked through walls and doors.

((I hope you enjoyed it, I really wanted to write a bit of a scene before with Spotty and her B.U.T.L.E.R. golem :p))

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

Introducing: Vriré

Vriré is an asura in the Order of Whispers. She was born in 1296 and joined the Order in 1313.

She's a great fighter, wielding double axes as seen in the first pic, or double shortswords crossed over her back (second pic...kinda).

Vriré is a... rather rigid character. She follows protocol, and as a Lightbringer she enforces it, too. She considers leading to be her role; if she's in a tight spot and an underling asks if she has a plan, she tells them yes, of course... because that's her job, not theirs, and they should worry about trusting her and whatever plan she comes up with, and following it, rather than concerning themselves with questions they may not have the clearance or knowledge to handle.

She is also on a panel of Lightbringers who decide which initiate gets assigned to which mentor, so she would have been one of those deciding that your Whispers Commander should be mentored by Tybalt Leftpaw!

She has very few friends; she is an introvert - albeit not a shy one - and it takes a lot to get close to her.

Her partner, Koraw Shadowspecter, was one of those close friends - Vriré considered him closer than even her childhood besties, Cirra and Drekk.

At least, he was close until Kralkatorrik awoke and created the Dragonbrand. Vriré and her team were doing something that was (probably) rather shady in Ascalon, when Kralkatorrik flew right by them - not quite exactly on top of them, so most of the team survived. But their scout, Kapp, was in the path of the dragon.

Koraw, ever the hero, ran out to get him and both were Branded.

This story is like an eerie inverse to the story of General Almorra Soulkeeper, with one exception:

Koraw and Kapp ran off after Kralkatorrik. Vriré didn't kill them.

This still torments her, and she fights with a strange passion against all dragon minions. She keeps track of how many she's killed since Koraw was corrupted, and she will until she finds him and puts him to rest. She is aware that this might never happen: someone else may have killed him and she would never know.

Now, as an author, I won't let that happen, but it's a thought that bothers her until S4. (I haven't figured out what happened to her in S4, but I will. someday.)

[azdoine]

I'm not one to condemn a book I haven't read, but I really feel like I would need a better explanation [for Greenfly] than "It's plants that can defeat sub-molecular reality warping nanobots that can weaponize entire stars." I appreciate the use of Always a Bigger Fish, but that description sounds a bit weak. I might as well say "Well, I've come up with a mutated turnip that has the ability to always defeat anything." Goku? Turnip. Cthulhu? Turnip. A fleet of a thousand Death Stars with Professor X coordinating the attack? Beat it with the turnip. How does it do it? Turnip power.

...the Greenfly really needs a better explanation as to why it's so awful, and why even the Inhibitors can't fight it.

Is there a character that could even possibly EVEN TOUCH Greenfly? Let alone defeat it.

And I'm not talking about Inhibitor Greenfly, which has subverted the Inhibitors to make use of femtotechnology and transcend sentience.

I'm not talking about Inhibitor Primordial Life Fiber Blacklight Greenfly, either, which has total control of bioenergy and willpower, perfect intuitive shapeshifting, assimilates all biological materials, controls or assimilates minds, and regenerates from anything that isn’t a scissor blade.

Hell, I'm not even talking about Inhibitor Primordial Life Fiber Blacklight Eezo Flood Greenlight, with the Eternal Flame (which uses Neural Physics to no-sell reality warping and reinforce physics), equipped with relativistic kinetic killing vehicles, perfect inertial damping, control of all mass and gravitons, with orthogonal physics engines implanted in it so it has infinite energy to draw on and can violate conservation of energy while remaining in a 3+1 manifold.

I’m also not talking about Inhibitor Primordial Life Fiber Blacklight Eezo Flood Incubator Entity Paperclipper Greenlight with manifold engineering (which is capable of isolating physical constants, adjusting the Boltzmann constant, drawing free energy from emotions, and trapping concepts), the shards of Zion and Eden (which grant it Golden Fuck You Beams, Path to Victory, multiverse travel, temporal regeneration, time locking and looping, space warping and Alcubierre drives, trans-galactic omniscience and clairvoyance, time bombing, dynakinesis, telekinesis, hypersonic+++++ reaction times, adaptive regeneration and shielding, and timeline manipulation) and mastery of Toth Tubule Enfolding, Quantum Foam Annealing, Quantum Temporal Reversion, and perfect anti-Value Drift protocols 

I'm definitely NOT Talking about Inhibitor Primordial Life Fiber Blacklight Eezo Flood Incubator Entity Paperclipper Excession Necron Greenlight with perfect mastery of Cryo-Arithmetic and Gridfire, all of Ra’s processing power and nonlocality technology, momentum exchange technology, effectors, Structure technology, and Conjoiner technology, powered with the Rainbow Nebula while deploying Asura as its footsoldiers, having become a Transcendental Intelligence made of pure intellect and imaginary matter, having also become an Asternomist, Epic Ozodrin, Cosmic Horror, Queen of Hearts, Epic Gramarist, Big Thinker, Future Technologist, Gramarie Lord, with self-replicating antifragile shapeshifting adaptive systems made of pure UU-Matter, using Quantum Modular Power Suit and Infinity Ichor Armor technology in every unit, with glass eldrikinetic engines and exsurgent vectors implanted in every unit so they can all travel faster than light and can duel with memes and antimemes while being an expert in mindscape combat.

I'm talking about Inhibitor Primordial Life Fiber Blacklight Eezo Flood Incubator Entity Paperclipper Excession Necron Ra Fine Structure Gramarist Lovecraftian Xeelee Photino Bird Time Lord Spiral Hyperborean Monad Greenlight with the Hyperdynamikon, Divine Machine, Silver Key, and Protoshinmaic Vortex, equipped with the Undersword while using Super Elder God Demonbane Lipika Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann as its analogue of Adam Kadmon, having murdered the Demiurge and turned its corpse into the power source of a metacosmic multidimensional Dyson sphere, declaring itself in rebellion against the cosmic order, having achieved Orange Enlightenment after reverse-engineering and assimilating Orange Lantern Rings and Orange Lanterns while subverting the Ophidian, able to tap into the Green, capable of acausal time travel, novikov self-consistent time travel, metatime travel, metametatime travel, n-meta time travel, and accessing the akashic records, with Celestial technology and having become an Omega Point while running every possible computer program in sequence including the computer program that simulates its own existence and self-assembling the configuration space of all computable universes.

[stagsong]

Do you ever think it hits other races how young Sylvari are? Like not even the saplings that’re fresh off the tree but the ones who are the same age as the commander or younger and are more put together than I can ever dream of being

Like there’s a Pact baby... meeting or something and there’s charrs with their cubs before they go to farhar, there’s giant children norn that keep mistaking humans for other children norn, asura with tiny prodigy who are causing havoc in their quest for knowledge, and humans with children of all ages playing with each other, and a sylvari passes through and gets introduced to a three year old human baby who’s parents they work with, they ask how old the child is and it basically comes down to 

“They’re three years”

“Aw same dude, high five”

and as this syvlari softly high fives a toddler, the other adults in the room are mentally resetting because,, this is a person they’ve seen kill, someone who’s as far along in development and understanding as them, and they’re the age of a toddler

do you baby and care for this big three year old or not whats the protocol whats happening why’s the human crying

[inexcon]

RSI Comm-Link: Congress Now: Crusader Cares

Crusader Cares

UEE Congress [398]

COMMITTEE ON THE INTERIOR

2949-03-19 SET

Session AutoScript

Proofed and Admitted — Assistant Archivist Burg (#748392BDF)

2949-03-19_13:36 – Session Resumes

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): The Senate Committee on the Interior is back in session. Everyone, quiet down please.

< gavel bang >

Joining us now is Crusader Industries CEO, Kelly Caplan, who I’m told has prepared a statement. You may proceed.

KELLY CAPLAN: Thank you, Senator Isher. And thanks to the entire committee for inviting me to discuss the successful measures Crusader has taken to ensure the safety and security of those entering its sovereign space.

There’s no denying that simultaneously overseeing the operations of an entire planet, its three moons, and a massive aerospace corporation is a monumental task. Since my first appearance before this committee, Crusader Industries have completed an exhaustive review of our security protocols, procedures, and personnel. Anyone found responsible or complicit in the reporting of inaccurate crime stats has been dismissed or reassigned. This includes our former head of security, who has since been replaced with Dabir Steinfeld, the highly decorated former Advocacy section chief of Terra. We’re confident that this decisive action has cleared the bad actors from our organization and has returned respectability and responsibility to Crusader’s security services.

Additionally, we’ve increased security spending and introduced the “Crusader Cares” initiative, which has substantially expanded the number of active private security contractors partnered with us. These measures, combined with more robust deep space scanning operations, have improved our data collection process and shed further light on the safety of Crusader’s sovereign space. The crime stats I submit to you today demonstrate the positive effect these initiatives have had.

Considering the extensive progress made over the last fifteen months, I would humbly ask you to make Crusader’s future appearances before this committee voluntary instead of mandatory. I believe that we have demonstrated a dedication to changing our corporate culture and an ability to quickly address and correct previous issues. I believe the changes mentioned above, and my extensive cooperation with this committee, warrant the normalization of Crusader’s oversight status to the standards currently applied to the other corporate-owned planets in the Stanton system.

Thank you again for having me here today and considering my request. I’m now prepared to answer any questions you may have about Crusader’s most recent security report.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): Thank you, Ms. Caplan. I’m scanning the report now and the crime stats appear to be quite thorough.

KELLY CAPLAN: Thank you, Senator Isher.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): That said, I do wish they had been delivered to us prior to this hearing, so I could have given them more than a cursory glance before asking you about them.

KELLY CAPLAN: I accept responsibility for that, Senator. In an effort to provide the committee with the most up-to-date data, I requested that yesterday’s numbers be included in this report. Updating it took longer than expected.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): Since we have limited time today, I will stop wasting it and open the floor to questions. Senator Harren, you may proceed.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Thank you, Chairperson Isher. And thank you Ms. Caplan for once again gracing us with your presence. Most people in your position would simply send their head of security to face questions from this committee. I consider your appearance today, and in all the previous hearings, as emblematic of Crusader’s commitment to rectifying these issues.

KELLY CAPLAN: Thank you, Senator Harren. You don’t remain a CEO for 43 years by avoiding your responsibilities.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Now, regarding the recent report, it says here that crime around Crusader occurs at a rate comparable to the other planets in the Stanton system. Am I reading that right?

KELLY CAPLAN: Yes, Senator, you are. Headlines proclaiming that “crime is on the rise” are a bit misleading. We’ve updated and refined our data collection protocols to more accurately track what’s occurring. I believe, as well as many experts, that the increase in reported incidents merely reflects an increase in reporting and not an actual increase in crime rate.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): So you’re telling me that after fifteen months of intense scrutiny by the committee, Crusader has improved its data collection process to show that its protecting its planet as well as most other governing bodies?

KELLY CAPLAN: The comparison made in the report specifically refers to the other planets in Stanton. Basically, despite all the noise on spectrum over the last year, Crusader is statistically no more dangerous than any other world in the system.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): It’s quite clear to me that Ms. Caplan has aptly steered Crusader through this unfortunate incident and installed new policies to ensure it won’t happen again. With that in mind, I believe that continued oversight by this committee, including these mandatory hearing, is unnecessary from here forward.

That’s why I’m requesting that this committee vote to normalize the oversight of Crusader to bring it back in line with the other planets in the system.

SENATOR OCTAVIA BEATE (U – Asura – Ferron Sys): I second the motion.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Chairperson Isher, can we proceed with a vote on this issue?

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Wait a minute. Voting to relinquish that oversight before thoroughly questioning Ms. Caplan today is absurd.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Senator Albervar, this is Ms. Caplan’s fourth appearance before this committee within the last 15 months. She’s answered every question asked of her, no matter how hostile, and supplied extensive documentation tracking Crusader’s progress. To continue looking over her shoulder feels like a waste of the government’s time and resources.

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): And you came to that conclusion based on the report distributed to us only moments ago?

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Ms. Caplan, do you stand by the numbers presented today?

KELLY CAPLAN: I can personally attest to the accuracy of those numbers, as can the two independent analytics agencies hired to verify them.

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Need I remind this committee that Crusader is here because it was caught falsifying crime statistics? To blindly accept the report given to us moments before this session would be a grave dereliction of duty.

For years, Crusader systematically and knowingly lied about the dangers of entering its sovereign space. These inflated safety rankings allowed it to attract more tourists and keep security spending low.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): And I would like to remind you that the company has accepted full responsibility for its actions, paid all fines levied against it, and significantly increased spending on its security forces and private contractors. Aren’t these the outcomes this committee set out to achieve?

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Only if the numbers given to us are accurate. If you recall, my proposal to send UEE assessors to independently gather data was rejected by this committee last year.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Yes, because it would’ve been a complete waste of taxpayer credits when Crusader is already providing us all the raw data.

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Again, trusting the data supplied to us by a company that admitted to falsifying information is absolutely insane. It’s not oversight, it’s acquiescence. As is allowing these corporations to masquerade as government bodies in exchange for money.

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): Look, Senator, I understand that being seen on the spectrum standing up to a large corporation like Crusader is politically advantageous to you, but that’s no reas—

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Excuse me, sir. How dare you suggest—

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): < gavel bang > That’s enough you two. Senator Harren’s motion to return to the normal oversight of Crusader will be voted on at the conclusion of today’s session.

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Thank you, Chairperson Isher.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): Senator Harren, do you have any further questions for Ms. Caplan?

SENATOR CLAY HARREN (U – Kampos – Ellis Sys): I do not.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): Very well. Does anyone else have questions for Mrs. Caplan? Senator Albervar, you may proceed.

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): Thank you, Chairperson Isher. Ms. Caplan, what can you tell me about Jumptown?

< muffled speaking >

KELLY CAPLAN: I’m sorry Senator, could you repeat the question?

SENATOR KELOS ALBERVAR (T – Terra – Terra Sys): This report appears to claim that Crusader has become better at tracking crime within its sovereign space. Yet, my staff on Sol were able to uncover repeated criminal activity at a location known colloquially as Jumptown on the Crusader-controlled moon of Yela.

My question is, are you familiar with the location, and why has nothing been done about the criminal activity there?

KELLY CAPLAN: < muffled speaking > Chairperson Isher, I’d like to request a five minute recess to use the facilities. Could I also get a refill on my water? As you can see, I’ve drank all of it already.

SENATOR YANN ISHER (C – Angeli – Croshaw Sys): < gavel bang > Granted. Everyone, consider this a tight five. Once we’re back, we’ll proceed with Senator Abervar’s questions.

<< END TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT >>

http://bit.ly/2FolXok