#because obviously jumping back into an old fandom wasn't crazy enough

[secret-engima]

politepoltergeist

I started reading this, and Kat was the first person to come to mind. Then I got to the end and I got confirmation, she caught another one! Seriously tho, I’m begging you- please write that WIP.

Me: Yes, Kat caught another one. XD. Also I am, in fact, writing that WIP. It’s like- JUST under 4k words already and I haven’t even gotten to Jon’s POV yet, and yet my muses are still gleefully plotting out all the things I want to happen in this one-shot, or, if it’s too long for that, a two-shot. My muses are also trying to talk me into starting an Ao3 Series just labeled “My Crazy AUs” specifically for random things like this, which will only encourage them to make more and- AND-

Okay I’m fine now. Here have a preview of my crazy Star Wars one-shot which took a hard left into Even Crazier Land because I made the mistake of watching anime just before starting this WIP-

...

     The man started to stir, it had been a whole two seconds since she arrived, and she carefully input the code needed into the door to make a small slot open in the energy barrier so she could slide the tray of food in. The man opened his eyes with a slow breath that sent frost into the air —this planet was always cold, always wintery—, and his eyes were a very pale color. More pale blue than grey, but not quite. He glanced around, taking in the tray of food and then her all in a moment —she raised her mental estimation of his threat level a little bit higher—. His eyes resettled on her and something in his chakra signature … wavered. Flared out around her before pulling back again. A reaction to an emotion perhaps, though she did not know which one. He smiled at her, a thin, crooked gesture, “Hello.”

     She settled on her heels and waited in silence. As the one who brought the tray, she had to wait until he was finished so she could retrieve it and return it before anyone could report it to Temporary Commander. The man ducked his head down, an instinctive gesture, like someone used to wearing a hood of some sort to hide his face, and reached for the tray with his bound hands, “A whole slice of bread and some cheese,” he mused softly, “very kind of you.”

     She didn’t respond. He wasn’t talking to her anyway. No one talked to tools unless it was to assign a task. He watched her as he ate, just like she was watching him. She wondered why he had let himself be captured by Temporary Commander and his group. None of them had even a tenth of this man’s chakra. Surely he could have overpowered them and escaped, even if he was outnumbered.

     When he was done eating, he slid the tray back to the door without being told, then scooted back until he was sufficiently far enough away that she could reach in a hand and retrieve it without risk of him grabbing her. She retrieved the tray and left.

     The soft light of his chakra signature felt like it was reaching for her as she went, even though the man said nothing.

     She listened to Temporary Commander the next day as he talked to his lieutenants. They were arguing over what to do with their new prisoner. Apparently they had caught him sneaking around places he shouldn’t. They were torn between interrogating him, killing him immediately, and selling him off since they were sure he hadn’t gotten any information and he looked like fit stock for the nearby mines. Temporary Commander decided to leave the man in the cell for the day. They had another matter to deal with and the unease of sitting in a cell all day might give them an advantage when they came to interrogate him.

     She took another tray of food to the prisoner at the same time as the last one. The guards didn’t do more than glare in her general direction before letting her in. She slid the tray inside the cell and watched the man cautiously eat. “They intend to interrogate you tomorrow,” she informed him, watching his reaction for clues.

     “I’m sure they do,” the man replied, seemingly unbothered. He studied her for a moment, then asked in a low voice “are you one of their slaves?”

     “No,” she replied, because there was little to gain from withholding that information, “I am a weapon temporarily attached to this operation.”

     His hands stilled over the food, “A weapon,” he echoed slowly. Something in his chakra signature began to turn cold and she wondered if he was now reestimating her threat level.

     “Yes.”

     “Only temporarily? Until when?”

     She debated telling him, then decided there was no real risk to it, “Until I am retrieved by my Handler or until a better Temporary Commander is found.” She didn’t tell him that she hadn’t seen her Handler in over a year, that she was pretty sure he was never coming, because this planet was very different from the one that held the Village, and she had seen no sign of others like her anywhere. Temporary Commander was a bipedal lizard and people sailed across stars instead of water in this place. Her current situation had very little in common with the place she’d grown up in.

     The chakra signature blazed hot like a desert sun for just a moment, the gossamer dark threads thickening like tripwire before the man breathed deep and everything settled, “Your … handler … isn’t here then.”

     “No.”

     He stared at her for a long time with an expression she couldn’t read, then said, “I’m Jon.”

     She filed that information away, “Jon,” she echoed politely, because people reacted positively to having the highlights of their own information quoted back to them —it was supposed to show understanding and attentiveness, she thought—. She looked down at his tray, “If you will not finish, then I will remove what is left.”

     Jon ducked his head again despite his lack of hood, “Are you going to eat the leftovers?”

     “Yes,” she answered, but didn’t tell him why —that she couldn’t return it without risk of someone noticing, couldn’t give it to the slaves because they were always watched and the extra food would be noted by the guards—, “it would be wasteful not to,” she said instead. Which was true, if she could not return it or give it to the slaves, then she had to either eat it herself or throw it away, and that would be a waste of food.

     Jon slid the tray obediently back to the door, because apparently he was not very hungry today, and watched as she took the tray and ate what remained of the bread and cheese. When she was done, she stood up and left.