#black or blue surgeon fish- hard to tell in the lighting

[russilton]

George and fish post George and fish post george and fish post George-

[imagine-loki]

Helmet Heists

TITLE: Helmet heists

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine “borrowing” Loki’s helmet to wear for a full day on a dare. The inside is unbelievably sweaty, and you can’t tell if the extra goo is hair gel or mousse, but a dare is a dare.

Loki walks up to see his helmet wobbling precariously on your head. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” you retort. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: I’ve been on a kick of writing these one-shots as snapshots in the friendship of Loki and Becca because, why not? Tonight I felt like he needed a friend, so I made a funny, fluffy, friendly fic. Some language, dubious timelines (who even cares, honestly?) and Loki I-don’t-know-how-to-make-friends Odinson moments.

=

“Come on, Becks! You took the dare and now you have to deliver,” Sam teased. He was sitting on the benchtop of one of her lab tables, being a general nuisance. As always. Though she loved the man (and his absurd confidence), he had the uncanny ability of getting on her nerves (probably also because of his absurd confidence). At least he was a handy and willing test subject for her new inventions, as well as a decent ’here, hold this’ assistant.

Beside him, Rebecca was bent over a small circuit board and motor, adjusting the tension of some screws with the same precision a heart surgeon would pay to open-heart surgery. Behind her darkened UV goggles, she rolled her eyes, though he could not see. She had a feeling he could feel her expression. “Absolutely not, Sam.”

“The forfeit is much worse and you know it.”

“The forfeit won’t get me a dagger through the heart.” She paused, blowing the fringe out of her face and tilting up just enough to look at him. “Actually, that might not be true. He might stab me, either way. 

This was ridiculous. Why had she even agreed to this stupid dare? Oh, right. She had been drunk as all hell when the challenge had been proposed. They had all been drunk, to be fair, but they seemingly had the fortitude of mind to remind her of this little adventure once the hangover had subsided.

Stupid superheroes and their stupid alcohol tolerance!

Sam snorted, lifting a single eyebrow at her. "Not with a dagger, he wouldn’t.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to make her groan. “Come on, not even Prince Sourpuss could resist you a cutie like you laying one on him.”

“One, you’re disgusting, Sam. Two, I’m pretty sure kissing someone out of the blue is assault and I doubt he’d enjoy it.” Becca pushed him until he scooted down the line. “Three, you’re in my workspace. Please get lost.”

“Not before you get that helmet.”

The automatic doors hissed open, making them both look up. Tony was striding in with a grin on his face. He either had very good or very bad intentions. “Where’s the helmet, Buttercup?”

“Please, no,” she groaned. Of course, he would be here to pester her, too. Becca fought the urge to throw something in Tony’s direction–it had been he who set the dare.

“You took the dare! It’s the law!” He grimaced playfully. “And I’m morbidly curious as to whether or not he would try to kill the only person he tolerates in the tower as revenge. Think of it as research.”

The doors hissed open again. “Lady Becca, do you need assistance procuring my brother’s helmet?”

“For fuck’s sake! I am trying to work! You know, the stuff you pay me to do,” she jabbed a finger in Tony’s direction, “and y'all need me to do to survive on missions?” She gestured the other two with a frown.

Bruce rushed into the lab, glancing over his shoulder every couple of steps. “I think Loki just went to the gym, if you want to go grab the stuff.”

Becca’s mouth set into a grim line. All the faces looking down at her were clearly ecstatic to see how this dare would play out. If she didn’t know any better she would say they didn’t much care for her to continue breathing. When the expectant looks turned pleading, she rolled her eyes, pulling off the black nitrile gloves she had been wearing and tossing them into the bin beside the bench. Her goggles met the lab bench a second later.

Throwing open a drawer, she fished out a metal vambrace, a hybrid between Tony’s plasma-shooting gauntlets and Peter’s webshooters. Slipping it over her right hand, she flexed her fingers experimentally, enjoying the crackle of static that came from her fingers at he action. If she was walking into the lion’s den, she definitely wasn’t doing it without some sort of protection.

“Keep Loki in the gym. I’ll be in and out in twenty.”

Thor grinned huge, nodding enthusiastically before following her out into the hallways. While he turned towards the gym, she turned up to the emergency staircase. She took the stairs by pairs and allowed herself a second to catch her breath at the landing. Quietly, she sneaked towards the back of the east wing, hyperaware of all the noises around her.

It wasn’t that she was scared of Loki, volatile and moody as he was, it was… no… that was a lie… she was scared. It was well justified fear. Becca had once witnessed Loki skewer three opponents with a single dagger after one of them ripped his leather armor. He was very particular about his things. And though she was on friendly terms with the man (as friendly as anyone could ever be with the surly demigod), she wouldn’t put a light stabbing past him for “borrowing” his stuff.

The door to his rooms was unlocked, strangely enough. No one ever came back here, save for Thor, so it made sense that Loki did not bother with security measures. The inside was impeccably organized–all right angles and open spaces. The only cramped area seemed to be the towering bookcases, packed to the brim with leather-bound tomes that looked well-loved. As much as Becca wished she could dilly-dally and peruse titles, the voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she only had so much time before she had to disappear from the premises.

Slipping towards the bedroom, she stepped towards the old-fashioned wardrobe. Opening the dark wood door, she spied the helmet resting on its own shelf a little above her eye line. Reaching up, she pulled it from its resting place, letting a startled huff leave her lips as the unexpected weight pulled her arms down.

“How the hell does he even keep this on his head?” She wondered aloud, testing the heft of the golden horns with a frown.

Turning the helmet over, she peaked inside, pulling a face instantly. She should have expected–it was a piece of battle armor, after all. But as clean as he kept his room, she would have thought he cared equally for his armor. On the inside of the golden horns there were smudges and glistening patches of salt from dried sweat. A mysterious thick substance lingered at the very bottom. Was it gel? Was it oil? Something else entirely? She shuddered to think its true composition. A good wipe down was key before attempting to put the helmet anywhere near her face.

The lab was all abuzz as Becca stepped back inside, helmet bobbing at her side as she held it by a horn. Tony whooped at the sight, strangely ecstatic about the fact that she was to have the horns on all day. She worried she might need a neck brace when she was done.

Sitting at her bench, she pulled a microfiber towel and the same cleaning solution she used for delicate electronics. If anything went wrong with the helmet, she was sure that she’d be murdered. A cursory wipe pulled out grime and gunk that made her (and Sam, who still had not gotten lost) gag. The cleaning solution went on and when she wiped everything away, the inside of the helmet gleamed and glistened under the bright lab lights.

“Put it on. Put it on! PUT IT ON!” Sam chanted, Bruce and Tony followed suit a moment later. Even FRIDAY overhead joined in on the childish taunting until Becca groaned, acquiescing. All she had to do was stay in the lab and finish her work. The day would be over before she knew it and she could return the helm before it was missed.

The horns were a lot more comfortable than she would have thought, for an all-metal hat. It was easy to notice the difference in size between herself and Loki, as the horns would slide back over her head whenever she moved. The garment was also incredibly heavy, to the point that she could feel herself actively straining to keep her neck from snapping to whatever direction the helmet was slipping in.

“OK, there. Are you guys happy now? Can I keep working?” Becca asked, glaring.  Her hands plucked another pair of gloves from the box, but they were quickly swiped from her hands.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re on the testing floor today,” Tony said, smiling.

So this was his grand idea–getting his weapons tech murdered.

“That is a hard pass. I can barely hold my head up as it is, and–”

“Testing floor. Now. That is an order.”

Becca snorted, stealing her gloves back and hunching over her workspace. “Tony, I’ve never followed your orders before. Why would I start now?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking eerily confident in himself. “Because I have hidden your Mark III for the proton gun on the testing floor and sent Peter to guard it.”

Her head snapped up and a muscle in her neck seized, making her groan while she massaged it. “You wouldn’t dare.” He simply pulled out a StarkPad and pulled the video feed of the testing floor. Becca stood up so quickly her chair toppled over. The group followed her as she ran past the lab doors and towards the testing floor.

Most of the techs had stopped tittering every time she walked past them in the insane headwear. At the very least, they had stopped throwing objects to catch on the horns, as if it were a bizarre game of horseshoes. A well-placed glare–a rare occurrence of the tech geek–had taken care of that rather quick. Becca had to admit, though, the extra height the helmet gifted her made her feel much more confident than she was. Her posture was better (though that had a lot to do with the fact that her neck was likely to break if she wasn’t ramrod straight); her speech, more formal. Thor had even remarked that she had adopted some of the mannerisms his brother often displayed.

She was sitting on a stool, adjusting some of Thor’s new smart bracelets when the room went deathly silent. Even Thor, who had been standing patiently while she turned him this way and that, stilled suddenly.

The hair on the back of Becca’s neck stood on end and she did not have to turn around to know that it was Loki currently staring daggers at her. Her hand grasped a horn to still the helmet as she tilted her head, trying to will Loki out of the room just by virtue of her thoughts.

“Rebecca, what are you doing?” The dark, smooth voice was deceptively nonchalant. Her whole arms erupted in goosebumps at the question. Oh, she was dead.

Turning her head slightly, she caught his form over her shoulder. He was dressed casually (well, casual for him), trousers and a sweater, one hand in his pocket–generally looking easy–despite the pointed intensity of his eyes.

“Hunting bilgesnipe,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” When she faced Thor again, he was staring back in wide-eyed panic and the feeling of dread settled in her stomach like a rock.

“I beg your pardon?” The phrase sounded a lot more like ’what the fuck did you just say?’, in her opinion.

The dare entailed for her to act like there was nothing amiss, should she be discovered by Loki during her day wearing the helmet. Right about now, she thought the idea was the stupidest thing she had ever agreed to.

“I’m just helping Thor with some gear.” Somewhere in the background Peter was chanting ’oh no’ over and over. “Is there something you need?”

A long stretch of silence followed the question. In her head, Becca supposed he was wondering whether to murder her now, in front of all these people, or later, in her apartment. She had not just stolen something of his, but she was being sassy and contrary–

He chuckled. “I suppose my business can wait. I’ll sit with the Spiderboy while you finish.”

“OK. Sounds good,” she replied, though her voice choked half-way through. She mouthed ’he’s going to kill me at Thor’, swiping her index finger over her neck to drive the point home. Thor merely blinked back at his brother, confused.

Becca procrastinated as long as it was physically possible. She had gone over the same specs so many times, that she could predict the radiation readings for every type of spark Thor could make. The god of Thunder smiled wryly, trying to be encouraging as he stepped away. He patted her shoulder, giving a light squeeze before leaving her workstation. The sensation of being watched surged, once more, and Loki had taken Thor’s place before her.

Glancing upwards, she offered him a shy smile in hopes of some sort of emotion breaking through his poker face. “What’s on your mind, Loki?”

He fought against a smile as he sat across from her, tossing his Stark mobile phone at her. “Seems to have frozen again. Do you mind taking a look?”

Becca tutted under her breath, swiping through the root directory, happy to be focusing on absolutely anything else. “I keep telling Tony his software doesn’t do well with your seidr, but he keeps not listening.” She had to react quickly to the horns slipping forward.

Balancing it back in a somewhat comfortable position, she continued to tinker away. When she shifted, her instinct was to guard the helmet, again, but found that where it had been too big and burdensome a moment before, it was now resting comfortably and snug on her head. Her blood ran cold and her fingers stilled.

“Anything the matter?” There was a laugh in his voice now and it was somehow worse than if he were mad. He had not been titled the God of Mischief for being a dear.

“No. Just thinking,” she fibbed, though she knew it was useless.

“Did you get a haircut?” When she cut her eyes up, he was resting his chin on his open palm, elbow propped on the table. His eyes sparkled with amusement. “No? There’s something different about you, I just can’t put my finger on it.” He brushed the fingers of his free hand over the sleeve of her t-shirt. “New top?”

“Er… nope. Nothing different. Nothing at all,” she squeaked. There was a lingering sensation to his touch, a strange tingle. Her fingers challenged themselves to a speed-run of rebooting his phone. The sooner he had no reason to be around her, the better it would be. He already knew she had stolen his helmet, which was the point of the dare. She would go straight up to his room after work and grovel for forgiveness, if needed. Cell phone restarted, she handed it back to him with a tight-lipped smile. “There we go. Ready to roll.”

Loki grinned, taking back the phone. “Thank you very much, Rebecca. You’re possibly the only good and true mortal in this prison!.” He rose from his seat, only to turn back about ten paces later. “Oh, darn. It seems to have gone again.” When she focused on his hands, there was a green glow over the screen.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she growled out through clenched teeth.

“Is there a problem, dear?”

She took a deep breath to relax and forced a smile. “Not at all, Loki.”

Becca reached for the phone, only to let out a yelp when he closed his fingers around her wrist. “New necklace. That’s it, isn’t it?” He was enjoying this game far too much.

“Why? Just… why?” She cried, pitifully, her meaning obvious. Loki merely shrugged and chuckled, releasing her hand from his grasp and assuming his original position. She set back to the task of rebooting his phone. Halfway through, she stopped, tilting her head curiously, recalling the glow a moment prior. “Does your phone crash a lot?”

“Every now and again,” he responded carefully. “As you said, Stark does not listen to recommendations.”

It was true, Becca had mentioned several times how Loki’s phone would inexplicably freeze while he was using it. Tony had assured her that there was nothing interfering with the phone, other than Loki wanting to be a bother. She also knew that he had not been at their evening of pizza and beer the night before, claiming to have better things to do.

She resumed her work, moving her fingers steadily over the holographic screen. “Do you like to read? I keep looking for book trade buddies, but they are in short supply on Stark tower.”

The turn in conversation took him aback. “Oh, er, well… yes.”

“Cool! I have lots of history and historic fiction–it seems your style. I also have a good mystery and fantasy collection, if that’s more your thing.” She returned the phone with a smile. “I can bring some over tonight, if you want. Ooh, and Chinese food. We can make an evening of it.”

He gave a confused nod before floating away, glancing over his shoulder every so often, stopping to explain the situation in his head, and continue on.

At the back of the testing floor, Tony and Bruce looked dejected while Peter just looked relieved. They had expected significantly more shouting and flying knives from the encounter. Becca half-thought that they just wanted an excuse to pick on Loki, despite the fact he had been behaving recently. She offered a smug grin before finishing her work and heading out.

Loaded up with cartons of Chinese food and books, horns still on her head (the delivery guy had nearly died at the sight), Becca knocked on Loki’s door. He answered promptly a moment later, somewhat hesitant. She placed the books on the counter, and unpacked the food as Loki hovered anxiously out of the corner of her eye.

“I won’t bite, I promise,” she teased. Loki reluctantly came nearer the table and pulled a seat. “Oh, one last thing.” With a quick tug, she removed the horns from her head. She massaged her head and attempted to tame her hair in one motion. “I think these are yours. I must have taken them by mistake. I swear, I have the same exact pair!”

Loki laughed easily, shaking his head. “I’m sure you do. Did you win, at the very least?”

“I did. Banner was too chicken to streak down Fifth Ave.” She grabbed an eggroll and took a bite. “You should join us next time.”

He made a noise of derision. “Then how will I know what you look like in my armor?” His sarcasm flowed easily, though Becca was aware of the implication of his statement. Who would they make fun of if he showed up?

Becca smirked, rolling her eyes. “I mean, I can go put it on right now, if that’s what you want.” They both laughed at the absurdity,. “It’s OK if you don’t want to, but it’d be nice. I’d appreciate a friend there.” She held out the helm with a warm smile, eagerly diving into a box of chicken when relieved of the armor.

Loki grabbed his helmet and hefted it easily. “I’ll think about it.” He frowned. “Did you clean my helmet?”

“Of course I did, dude. That thing was nasty!” She giggled, throwing a piece of carrot at him when he scowled at her. He retaliated with a noodle. She threw an eggroll. He donned his helmet, grabbed a carton of chow mein and gave chase, laughing freely.

Tony watched as his weapons tech dashed across the hallway, her track and field training giving her a slight advantage against the long-legged Asgardian who cackled as he followed a second later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe the dare had been a bad idea.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

His Shooting Star - Chapter One

Bucky X Reader!

So when you’re stuck on a boat for way too long, stories slip in your head. Pirate stories and night skies and all that business make themselves very much prominent in your head and you’re left with...well, this. :) I hope you guys like it!

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Summary: Captain Bucky Barnes loves being a pirate. He’s good at what he does. He feels as if he’s found his purpose. And yet...still there’s something missing. Until you. You in your wonder and shine, appearing as if out of nowhere. Will Bucky and his crew be able to help you find your way back home? Or will the captain decide he can’t let his newest treasure go?

The stars seemed to glow brighter tonight. The ocean’s waters reflected their beautiful glow, shimmering in a way that seemed never ending. It was breathtaking, a sight he could never bring himself to get used to. More often than not, he believed the ocean to be a mirror in moments like this. There were no waves, no movement. It was as perfect as glass.

A sight no one truly appreciated it seemed.

Bucky looked up from the water, his gaze landing on the mess of a crew that he had come to love dearly, considering them family. They had finished another raid rather successfully and tonight was cause for celebration. 

“Will you be joining us, Captain?” 

He turned his head, charming smirk curving his lips when he was greeted by his coxswain, Natasha Romanov. “I think the crew does better when they don’t feel like I’m watching every move they make.”

Natasha laughed, looking down at the others. It was true. They played music, danced, told stories — everything lonely men could possibly do at sea with only four available women on board. And they were much more exuberant when Bucky watched from afar.

“I have to say, our little Peter definitely isn’t so bashful around MJ when you’re way over here.”

Bucky laughed, looking at their newest recruit who was attempting to dance with the ship’s surgeon. MJ was…intense. The fact that Peter was even trying was enough to gain Bucky’s respect. Well, at least a little bit of it. “If she doesn’t chew him up and spit him out, he just might have a chance.”

“I think they’re cute together,” Natasha teased, nudging him.

“Shouldn’t you be judging potential couples with Clint? You know, your husband? I didn’t marry the two of you so you’d spend less time apart.” Bucky grinned as Natasha laughed, shaking her head.

“I wish I could, but you’ve forced him to stay up in that crow’s nest, navigating all night long.”

Bucky raised a brow, looking up. Sure enough, Clint was watching from his spot in the crow’s nest. He was curled up, propped like one would expect a bird almost. “Go take your hawk some rum, huh?” he asked, passing Natasha his personal flask. It was engraved with a ruby star that shimmered even in the low light and Natasha was surprised he was letting someone else hold it. 

Bucky was rather protective of his alcohol.

“Thank you, Captain,” Natasha said, kissing his cheek. She jumped to the ropes and made her way to the crow’s nest, her mind focused on the sole idea of cuddling her husband and getting drunk before the night’s end.

“You actually let someone take your flask?”

Bucky groaned at the sound of his quartering master’s voice. Sam Wilson, a good man, was irritating at moments like this. Couldn’t Bucky just enjoy the night? “Well, it’s Nat. It’s not like I was stupid enough to leave it with you.”

He looked at Sam, grinning when he saw the man clutching his chest as if he had been wounded. “I’m not nearly as scary with alcohol as our resident black widow. She’ll devour your men if you let her drink enough.”

“I’m sure Clint will keep an eye on her.” 

Silence fell between the two as they stared out at the water. Not too far, the stars began to fall, striking across the sky at rapid rates. Moments like these were rare — beautiful and unique. No one else appreciated the sight on this ship.

Maybe Sam was good for something after all?

No, Bucky would never admit that.

However, Bucky was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Sam straighten, eyeing something in the water. He followed his gaze, brow furrowing when he saw the water’s ripples.

“Did you see that?”

“No, what is it?”

“I think someone’s in the water.”

Bucky searched, trying to see what Sam saw through the night sky. Damn man had eyes almost as good as Clint. “Get one of the row boats ready.” The order slipped out with ease, catching the attention of the rest of his crew. The music and stories came to a pause as they shared looks, curious what was going on. “You and Scott go check it out.”

Scott grinned as he rose to his feet, glad Bucky was trusting him again. After the incident with bringing ants on board, he’d been working to gain his captain’s trust. Now was the perfect opportunity! “You got it, Cap!”

Bucky rolled his eyes and Sam knew it was taking every ounce of control for Bucky to not make some ridiculously snide comment. “We���ll be back shortly, Captain. It’s probably just some fish, right?”

The waters had calmed all too quickly for Sam’s liking. If it were actual fish, they would have made their presence known a few more times. Instead, the waters were eerily still again. From their position, it was hard to tell where the horizon even ended. The waters blended almost perfectly with the sky. “Captain Barnes really loves the sky like this, doesn’t he?” Scott asked, breaking the silence as Sam continued searching ahead.

“Don’t get personal about the captain, Lang. It’s just weird.”

Scott felt his ears burn and ducked his head. “So-Sorry, I didn’t —“

“Shut up. Stop the boat.”

Scott quickly brought the small row boat to a stop as Sam leaned forward. He searched the waters, frowning. They were so dark. It was practically impossible to see anything. Keeping his voice low, Scott couldn’t help his curiosity. He had to ask, “Do you really think something’s out here?”

“Not sure.” Sam huffed as he leaned back. Did he imagine it? There was no way, he was sure he saw —

“Oh my god!” Scott’s high pitched shriek made Sam jump. He spun around as he saw the pale hand gripping the oar. Scott was trying to shake the thing off, rising to his feet to get a better angle. “Sam! Sam, it’s a siren!” He tugged and pulled, twisted the oar in his best attempts, but failing miserably. “Sam, help!”

Sam reached closer to the hand, grabbing the oar and tugging. The hand seemed to loosen its grip and he gave another tug. When he did, he noticed the small glow emanating from the creature’s skin. Sirens…sirens didn’t glow. He peered into the water, noticing a pair of legs rather than a tail. He stopped pulling, kneeling against the edge to try and get a better look. Scott tugged again. “Scott, stop,” Sam shouted as the thing finally let go.

“But it—“ Scott gestured to the thing, eyes wide. Had Sam lost his mind?

“I said stop! It isn’t a siren.” 

Immediately Scott’s actions came to a halt as Sam reached into the water. He grabbed the person’s arm and pulled, the water splashing against the boat. He reached and wrapped an arm around her middle, hoisting her up. A silvery glow traveled over the feminine figure as Sam pulled her into the boat. She was drenched, nothing but a thin navy fabric wrapped around her body. He’d never seen a woman dressed so indecently. At least, not out in the open like this.

Sam pressed a hand to her cheek. She was ice cold. What was a girl doing out in the water like this? How did she even get out here? Sam looked around, hoping to see some sign of a boat, but there was nothing. She had just…appeared. Out of nowhere. Leaning his head down, he frowned when he couldn’t hear her breathing. He felt for a pulse and still, nothing.

“We need to get her to Shuri. She’ll know what to do.”

“Why is she glowing?” Scott watched, worry evident as he began to row back to the ship. Sam shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around the woman to provide some level of decency. 

“I don’t know. I was hoping Shuri might.”

—————

Scott jumped on deck, turning around and grabbing the woman in Sam’s arms so that Sam could finish his climb up. By the time the two men had made it back to the ship, she had stopped glowing. Gone was the thing that made her so odd. Now, she looked like any normal maiden. Would the others even believe them if they tried to explain?

“You found something?” Bucky asked, coming down the steps as Sam looked up.

“Not something,” he corrected.

“Someone.”

Bucky looked up when Scott spoke, his gaze quickly shifting to the surprise in his arms. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. She was…ethereal, unlike any woman he’d ever seen before.

“How did she —“

“We aren’t sure,” Sam answered, already knowing Bucky would be curious as to how she was all the way out here. “But I can’t get a pulse on her.”

“Come on then, let’s get her to Shuri,” Bucky ordered, already leading them below deck.

It took a couple of hours for Shuri to actually do a full work up on the strange woman. It seemed that she was just as curious about the woman as they were. “Fascinating,” Shuri seemed to murmur repeatedly. 

Fascinating — definitely a word that Bucky would use to describe the woman currently laying on the table. She was still unconscious, though she had dried off a while ago. Her clothes were not a fashion they were used to. It was a long dress, looking similar to a nightgown of sorts. Something that one would expect to see a princess wearing, perhaps? Maybe that was what she was. Royalty? If so, then perhaps she could be ransomed. 

“Luckily, your boys are just oblivious to finding a pulse. She had one. It was weak, but now that I’ve brought her temperature back up. It’s stronger now, but her body needs a chance to rest.”

“Any idea who she could be?”

Shuri looked up at Bucky, shaking her head. “Not at all.” She walked to her desk, picking up the necklace their guest had been wearing upon her arrival. It was in the shape of a star, made of blue  glass, and shimmered without any light. “At first I thought this would help, but it doesn’t seem to have any connection to any of the neighboring kingdoms. Hope might know. Or even Peter. He was studying before he joined us after all.”

Bucky nodded, thinking Peter would probably the better bet between the two. Either way, it never hurt to ask either of them. “Sounds like a plan.”

“But I found something with it that I thought was interesting.”

“The necklace?”

Shuri nodded, walking over to the lantern. She lifted it to the light, allowing it to catch the soft glow. It seemed to pierce through the unidentifiable jewel, bouncing onto the walls. Bucky’s eyes grew to the size of saucers when he saw what was hidden inside. Along the walls were constellations, the night sky seemingly being held in one small pendant. How was such magic possible?

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Neither have I.”

Bucky watched as she pulled the necklace away. The sky vanished from the walls and Bucky already longed for it to return. He took the necklace from the doctor, the fragile pendant seeming rather small in his larger hand. “Could she have magic?”

“If so, why wouldn’t she have saved herself?”

Bucky nodded, knowing she was right. It was why he liked bouncing ideas off of her. Even if he came up with the most ridiculous idea, Shuri was willing to hear it and help him realize what worked and what didn’t. That particular detail made her a vital asset to his crew and, most importantly, his sanity.

“Let me know when she wakes, yes?”

Shuri nodded, knowing better than to argue with the captain. However, she did think this was more trivial. If she woke, they could simply drop her off at the nearest port. Bucky’s curiosity meant they might be keeping the guest around a little longer than necessary. “There’s one more thing,” she warned, earning a curious gaze from the captain. Walking to the woman’s side, Shuri crouched down and gestured for Bucky to do the same. He wasn’t sure it was necessary, but knew better than to question her. When he was at her level, Shuri brushed back the woman’s hair and gently turned her head. Tucked just behind her ear were little markings that seemed to glow out of her skin. 

It looked like the same stars he had been staring at earlier that evening.

“If she does have magic, this is the only sign of it.”

Shuri’s voice broke through that little thought. Bucky frowned as he leaned closer. He felt entranced, his thumb brushing along the small markings. They weren’t bumps. It wasn’t scarring or a tattoo. In fact, it seemed to be part of her. 

“We need to ask Parker about the nearby kingdoms and if they have any connections to those recent studies involving the stars.”

“Of course, Captain. Do you think she’s a member of a royal family?”

Bucky shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as he rose to his feet. His gloved hand left the rough feel of leather almost ghosting against his skin. “It’s the only thing that makes sense at the time. When she wakes, we’ll be able to get more answers.”

“Until then?”

“Just make sure she doesn’t die on us.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of using her for ransom, Barnes.”

Bucky eyed the clothes, the pendant, that mark, and knew that it was rather low of him to be thinking of a way to make a profit out of the situation. Still — he was a pirate. Wasn’t that part of who he was? 

“I have a crew to pay, Shuri. I’m not going to starve them for one woman.”

Shuri heard him. She really did. And she wanted to believe that Bucky wasn’t going to let this woman be a distraction from his pirating ways. However, it wasn’t often that Bucky’s baby blues shimmered so brightly or with an emotion she couldn’t quite peg. Yet, here he was with that little twinkle, with that small, curious smile, and some sort of way about him that she couldn’t read. Odd…Was Captain Barnes letting emotions slip into his calculating mind?

“Whatever you say, Captain. I’ll let you know tomorrow if there is any sort of progression.”

“Thanks, Shuri. Make sure to get some rest.” He squeezed her shoulder, knowing Shuri would keep herself up all night if she wasn’t reminded to look out for her own wellbeing. She was too fascinated by the littlest things, by the smallest ideas. “And that’s an order.”

Shuri rolled her eyes, shooing him off. “Don’t think you can order me around so easily, Barnes. I still have an older brother than can take you.”

Bucky laughed, opening the door as he called back, “Perhaps, but he’s off taking care of his own kingdom, you know.”

She grinned from ear to ear, the look similar to the cat that ate the canary. “The kingdom we’ll be docking at before too long.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, closing the door. “Goodnight, Shuri!”

Very faintly, he heard her call back, “Sleep well, Barnes!”

[magickdream-creations]

Chapter Six :: Explosions Are Necessary

“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth.” - Buddha

"Man, this sucks you guys have to blow this place up. This house is amazing!" Michelangelo had halfway expected for their hideout to be some kind of underground bunker or rundown warehouse at first. Not the massive two-story mansion in one of the ritzier neighborhoods of New York. It had all of the works for sure. Olympic-sized swimming pool, a complete room dedicated to all the latest in state of the art entertainment; totally his favorite room in the place. It did not take long for the youngest terrapin to fall in love with the place once the tour had ended. The packing had taken less time than their exploring did since the four deadly siblings traveled pretty moderately with their belongings. Which led to the impromptu tour that had finished in the club room that housed a full bar, blue velvet billiard table, entertainment center and a pretty good computer set up. They were just passing the time while April and Casey made their way with the van.

"The house belongs to Hisoka so there is at least a win in it for the good guys once we blow this joint. Besides, if we kept it for ourselves we would be under constant attacks day and night. Not that I'd complain but even that would get boring quickly." Arietta had been moving about the billiard table trying to line up her next shot. With a smirk, she leaned down with the pool stick positioned against the top of her middle finger while cradled by her index over it giving it a few slides to test out the angle before giving it a hard shove. The crack sounded and she stood triumphantly as the last stripe colored ball sank into the left side pocket. She gave Leonardo a playful wink and all he could do was roll his eyes as she moved around to line up for her winning shot.

“Lucky. That's all you are in this game is lucky, Arietta.”

“We warned you not to let her bait you into playing the first game, Leo. After that, it's all on you for how many times she gets to beat you.” Dorian had made shop behind the bar fiddling with a couple of the bombs he was building. He had a small glass of scotch on the rocks next to him to keep his nerves in check while he worked. Leo did not even point his glare toward the assassin knowing it would have been ignored at the moment anyway. The guy was just too focused on tinkering and Raphael was sitting on one of the stools in front of said bar watching in complete fascination.

"Come on! Can we at least take this one little entertainment center? This guy has some of the biggest TVs I've ever seen!" For about the tenth time since they got in the room, the hopeful teen stood in front of the 92-inch DLP television. The group could practically hear his drool hitting the floor with the dream of utilizing the big screen in the lair.

"I don't think it will fit in the van, Mikey." Calliope was playing the look out, her head against the wall as she peeked out the side of the black velvet drapes. She was not taking any chances of anyone other than their getaway van coming up the driveway. Being in a house own by the leader of the clan you went rogue from was not in her mind not a time to let her guard down.

“Wasted opportunity of some awesome equipment. Just sayin',” Mikey finally admitted defeat as he flopped himself down on the massive leather couch, going back to channel flipping once more. His words had elicited a small chuckle from Callie who looked toward him having an idea come to mind of what would cheer him up.

“I think we can find a compromise here. Hisoka has quite a collection of video games and movies in the entertainment room. It won't be that big of a deal if we take them since this place is going boom anyway.” She made her way to stand back behind the couch and half bent to look at his face which was now lit up with a wide hopeful stare. She did not even attempt to hide the smile seeing just how hopeful he was having his head tilted back to look at her.

“Are you kidding?” He could not really tell if she was messing with him or being sincere, since well he had not really known her long enough to experience the differences just yet. Calliope stood up and feigned a hurt look as she put her hand over her heart in a rather dramatic fashion.

"Michelangelo, I never kid around when it comes to a good movie or game collection. Come on, we'll go plunder all the shelves of their treasures." Callie let out a small giggle as Mikey quickly launched himself over the back of the couch and took her by the hand. The big smile plastered on Mikey's face made Lyra laugh as she watched the orange-clad turtle run off with her eldest sister. With a small shake of her head, she turned her dark gray eyes back to the screen before her determined to get her task done that she had begun the moment she sat down at one of the computers.

“That little brother of yours is so easily pleased, Donatello.”

"You have no idea," Donnie mused before he let out a small chuckle of his own as he checked the progress of the file transfers they were doing. He had made a completely secured link that was feeding every bit of information they could get their hands on to his system back at the lair. Mission reports, lab results, and profiles on all Black Lotus personnel were just a drop in the ocean of data they were gathering. He was definitely going to be one busy turtle for sure with everything he would have to look over and he was more than pleased that Dorian proved to be forthcoming with all the knowledge they would get this little adventure. His eyes shifted for a moment from the screen he was watching over to Lyra's work just to see what it was she had been working on so feverishly. He was quite shocked to see the majority of one bank account was being dumped in equal parts to four other ones that he deducted she created in the little time they had begun working. "Wiring money transfers? Won't you get caught when they trace all the paperwork?"

"Not by the time we get all of the said funds out and into whole new bank accounts in the morning. All of the paperwork leads here and to the compound that's located downtown. They'll be chasing their own tales trying to find us. Calliope and I will deal with all of themoney first thing early in the morning and then poof! We'll be set for years to come." Lyra put the final keystrokes in having been typing away even while explaining her plot to him and a grin played upon her lips when she saw the transfers confirmed a success. She looked to Donnie and held up her fingers in a peace sign before giving him a playful wink. He felt his cheeks heat up with her cute gesture at him but he gave a nod to her none the less admitting within his mind that she was actually not half bad with her computer skills. The groan from Leo was heard throughout the room which only meant he had lost another round of pool to Ari. Again.

“You know if we were playing for cash you'd be screwed, Blue.” Arietta grinned playfully at the poor sap and he gave her a pointed glare in return before simply setting his pool stick on the table in a defeated surrender.

“Good thing we weren't playing for actual money then and what's with calling me Blue?” He did give her a small shove on her shoulder and a smile to let her know he wasn't mad about losing to her. She gave a small chuckle and a light shrug to go with it as she led the way toward the bar.

“It just fits,” she answered gently before motioning to one of the empty bar stools. She then made her was behind the bar with only the thought of pestering her brother. Leo took the stool that would sit him directly across from Dorian and his eyes scanned over the various materials the guy had out. He did not even attempt to try and mess with the already finished bombs that were sitting to his right. That was when it began to click in the leader's mind. Each one of the assassins had a skill set that only they excelled at which made Leo's mind wonder to more questions.

"Dorian, you're the explosives expert right?" Leo watched the grin spread on the man's lips and as those silver eyes met his own sapphire ones he felt his whole body tense. That was certainly not a reaction he had expected out of himself but luckily the chuckle that issued from Dorian kept Leo's mind from delving down that rabbit hole of self-torture.

"Yeah, I'm the explosives guy. Calliope is our resident doctor since she has a more extensive knowledge of medicines and poisons. She'd make a damn good surgeon if we hadn't been raised to be killers." His tone sobered towards the end as he looked back down to the bomb he was currently working on. Tightening down the last screw he put the device gingerly next to the others that were ready to go. "Lyra over there may not seem like it with how giddy she usually is but, she's pretty damn smart. I actually heard her mention something about becoming a legit scientist for NASA but there again we are what we are. Can't really change that."

“You do have the ability to change it if that is what you want. The only one really stopping you is you.” Arietta gave her brother a rather serious look to emphasize she meant what she said. She kept eye contact with him for only a few seconds before she turned her attention to the bowl of cherries sitting on the bar top. Grabbing a few from the bowl she popped on into her mouth stem and all.

“She's got a point ya know.” Raph could not help but to side with Arietta on that one and Leo seemed to give a silent nod as a sign that he was on board with both of them.

"We can't just walk away now. Not until we've taken down the Black Lotus once and for all," Dorian muttered softly and took a drink from his scotch. A glare came to his eyes as he heard the sound of a tiny plop when he had pulled the glass from his lips. He could see the cherry stem now floating at the top and as per the usual, the thing was tied in a knot courtesy of his now grinning sister next to him. He fished it out of his drink and flicked it at her smiling when she protested.

"That was uncalled for!" She pulled the stem from out of her bangs and tossed it in the trashcan before popping another cherry in her mouth in the same fashion she had before.Raphael realized that she had once again put an entire cherry in her mouth, even the bits that normally would not be eaten.

“Why ya eat the stem too?”

“She's not eating it, she's tying them in knots in her mouth. It's a stupid game really and it's a wonder she hasn't tied the damn thing around her jewelry yet.” Dorian took another pull of his scotch his demeanor seemed a bit annoyed with what she was doing and continued even as he got back to work on the last bomb he needed to create.

"Jewelry?" both Leonardo and Raphael asked in unison to which Arietta laughed in complete amusement. She took the knotted stem from out of her mouth and tossed it in the trashcan before sticking her tongue out a little farther than she usually would. There resting on the center of her tongue was a silver ball glinting in the light. She pulled her tongue back into her mouth and gave the boys a playful wink.

“I pierced it myself actually,” she spoke in a rather proud manner and could not contain the laughter after the looks of shock and amusement crossed over Leo's and Raph's faces respectively. Dorian gave out an exasperated groan to go along with the roll of his eyes.

“After I explicitly told you not to. That kind of thing should be left in the hands of professionals, sister mine.”

“Your concern is duly noted by highly ignored, brother mine. I learned how to do it properly and you can damn sure bet it won't be the last time I pierce myself.” Arietta rewarded herself with another cherry but this time she tossed the stem instead of playing her little game with it.

“You've learned to hide it really well,” Leo muttered having got over his shock at learning the assassin had taken a needle to her own tongue. He opted at that point to focus on Dorian's work rather than look at her.

“I've had some practice at it. Now, since Mikey and Callie get to take home gifts I've got a Harley in the garage with my name on it.” This time she picked up the whole bowl of cherries before making her way around to the front of the bar.

“He's gotta bike stashed here?” Raphael had perked up quite a bit with the mention of a motorcycle to which Arietta smiled at him before giving a nod in confirmation.

“Want to come with me and listen to her purr?” She turned that smile into a mischievous grin that was only mirrored by Raph's as he got up from the bar stool he was sitting on. He motioned for her to lead the way so he could follow.

“You'd better take out the GPS if you're serious about taking that thing.” Dorian pointed the tip of his screwdriver at her but did not look up to further emphasize that he was being serious on the matter.

“Of course, wonder boy! I know the standard procedure.” She gave a small wave with her hand that was not holding onto the bowl of cherries as both her and Raphael left the room to get working on claiming her very own treasure.

Leonardo raised a brow watching the two leave before it finally came to light that Dorian had explained not only his own specialization as well as Calliope's and Lyra's but, he had left out one. Curiosity nagging at his mind now to find out he turned his attention from the door where he had watched his brother leave with the assassin female and he looked to the blonde male working diligently. Leo leaned his arms against the bar now determined to know a little more about these new siblings that dropped into their lives.

“Dorian you told of all your talents and of two of your sisters' talents but what about Arietta's? What's her role in all of this?” Leo watched Dorian's tinkering pause abruptly and he almost regretted that decision to pry when Dorian put down his screwdriver. The assassin finished off what was left in his glass before pouring more into it. Once the glass was full again silver eyes met sapphire as he capped the bottle of scotch and set it to the side before lifting up the glass again.

“Her role isn't defined by just one talent. She's an assassin through and through, simple as that,” Dorian spoke in a tone that was both stern and tinged with a slight warning. It did not frighten Leo in the least how he spoke, it only got him more curious as to the meaning of what he said. Dorian took a slow pull from the glass not once taking his eyes from Leo's before he readied himself to continue in a more in depth explanation. “As she was growing up Arietta would constantly get herself in trouble because of how stubborn she is despite us trying to remind her to behave herself. That behavior was rewarded by rigorous training and punishment that would break damn near anybody, I know I would have cracked under that kind of pressure. It never broke her wild spirit though and only proved to hone her into a more precise and deadly weapon. She dabbles in a bit of everything we do and excels at them but, she does allow us the reigns in what we're specialized in. The question you should be asking here is what is her weakness?”

Dorian set his beverage down again and began the task of tucking in the wires carefully so he could get the casing on the last bomb. The way the eldest Quintus sibling spoke had a sort of hidden fear in his tone that was also laced with a bit of regret for how all of their lives played out. Almost as if that last particular question of what weakened his sister should never be asked nor the answer revealed. Leonardo swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as the click of the panels sounded in the seconds of silence. Screws were being tightened down and only when Dorian had finished did the blue-clad leader finally steel himself for the answer he was going to hear.

“What is her weakness?” Dorian snapped his eyes up to Leo's in less than a second and kept their gazes locked. Just as the assassin had opened his mouth to give the ninja the answer he was asking for the sound of a call came from the direction Lyra and Donnie were in. The two leaders looked over toward the computers just as Donatello answered the call.

"Hey, April did you guys find the place okay?"

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

April was still not sure what to make of the whole ordeal once it had been explained to both herself and Casey. She did trust the four brothers and Master Splinter fully with this abrupt judgment call but that did not mean she would be able to fully trust in the four newest additions to the group just yet. They were assassins that, whether they were testing or not, attempted to kill the four turtles she called family. It was going to take a lot more convincing to fully say whether or not she would put any faith in them being on their side.

"I get why you guys are helping them Don but, do you think it's really a good idea to just jump into all of this so fast? You guys just met them. Just. Met them. Tonight." April was definitely not going to let her concerns go unheard and she was pretty prepared to ask any and all questions she could. The bags were already loaded as they waited for Dorian and Leo to finish rigging up the staged gas leak accident. Her eyes glance up to Donatello who at the moment stood next to her and Casey against the van.

“I know you're worried April. I was able to get a whole lot of data from the systems that I'll be sifting through for a while. Whatever we want to know about them that information will tell us, trust me. I think we'll be more prepared than we ever had been.” He gave his dear friend a smile that he hoped conveyed his confidence and she gave him a gentle smile right back that had a slight deviant intent to it.

“Oh really? If you're so prepared then tell me something. Where are they going to be sleeping?” She and Casey both let out a laugh seeing how wide-eyed the turtle became and his flustered manner did not sedate the laughter either.

“None of you thought about that did you?” Casey smirked from the glare he received from Donnie before he looked toward the front door as it opened. Calliope and Lyra both carried one large box each in their hands while Michelangelo followed behind them carrying out two of the same size. The guy looked to April with a raised brow since he thought they had grabbed everything already. When a shrug was all he would get out of her he opened the back of the van for them again.

“Don't you think this is a bit excessive, Mikey? You've got enough games and movies here to open a rental store.” Donnie had quickly moved over to the girls taking the boxes they carried from them before finding a spot in the van to set them.

“Move marathons for days, bro! Endless hours of pure entertainment!” Mikey grinned as he slid the boxes he held in the van making sure none of his new collection of treasures would shift around.

“Tell me ya didn't let Mikey pick out all of them.” Raphael walked toward the back of the van having lead Arietta out of the garage. He was holding a helmet as she was walking the motorcycle closer to the van letting the kick stand down.

“He got to pick out the majority but I did grab quite a few that everyone else may find entertaining. Same for the games.” Calliope moved over to Arietta and took a closer look at the bike before shaking her head giving her sister an amused smirk. “Why?”

"This is a practically new Harley-Davidson Street 750 Velocity. It would be a crime against my fellow motorcycle enthusiasts to let this baby get blown to pieces!" Arietta crossed her arms a little insulted that her sister seemed to have forgotten her love of motorcycles.

“You've always wanted one I suppose.”

“Damn straight but I've made a deal that I have to share custody.” Arietta gave a grin as she zipped up the leather jacket over her black spaghetti strap. Calliope raised a brow at that response since it was odd to her that her sister would share anything with anyone.

“Oh yeah? Who's lucky enough to get to ride it when you aren't?” Lyra decided at that moment to take the opportunity to sit herself down on the motorcycle for a moment. She let out a small squeak of surprise when the helmet was set on top of her head just seconds after she had grabbed a hold of the handle bars.

"That'd be me, shorty." Raph gave a chuckle as Lyra took the helmet from off of her head and sat it on the gas tank. She gave him a small glare in retort to his statement but never the less she let it slide as she looked to Arietta.

”Can I have the first ride? Please please please?” Lyra continued the string of begging as Arietta simply stuck her fingers in her ears to try and drown out her sister's voice. A swift smack to the back of her head made her yell out in protest before she gave her older brother a glare. His timing was always impeccable for her.

“Just do it or she won't shut up.” He gave Arietta a glare as Lyra was still repeatedly pleading even now. Arietta clenched her fists and gave a small growl knowing she did not want to deal with a pouting Lyra if she refused.

“Fine!”

“Yay!” Lyra threw her hands up in the air in triumph and got herself situated properly on the seat so Arietta would be able to drive. The small moment made both Casey and April laugh with the almost uncanny resemblance to the banter between some of the turtles.

"So are we good to go now?" Casey had directed his question to the two leaders as Leo had come out of the front door making sure to close it behind him. Dorian had looked at Leo who only gave a nod before he turned his attention back to the guy that had inquired.

“Yeah, Callie and I just have to load up in the van and we should be set to go. We've got about ten minutes to clear out of here.” Dorian helped his sister get in the back of the van before he hopped in himself right after her. April loaded herself in the passenger seat as Leo gave Casey a hand with the van doors.

“Alright Casey, you know the entrance to take. We'll follow along on the high ground just to make sure no one shows up or tries to follow.” Leo looked over seeing Arietta putting the only helmet on to Lyra making sure it was fitting right. Raphael and Michelangelo were making their way off the estate grounds in a hurried pace since the clock was ticking.

"Sounds like a plan. Make sure miss biker chick doesn't get let herself get left behind." Casey smacked Leo lightly on the shoulder before he went to the front of the van to put himself back in the driver's seat. The leader in blue went over toward the two on the Harley just as the two-wheeler was started up. He put his hand on Arietta's shoulder to get her attention but kept his expression very stern.

"Stay close to the van. No going off for a joy ride, Arietta." He was for sure going to adhere to Master Splinter's words of them getting back quickly.

"Don't go getting your mask in a knot, Blue. I'll stay with the group," she retorted in a small bit of annoyance as she made sure Lyra was ready to go. Leo took a step back hearing the van's engine starting up but to his surprise, Donnie was making his way over to them. He had taken off his communications device and was now carefully putting it on to Arietta. Leo wasn't sure whether to be shocked that she was actually co-operating or that Donnie had been quick to realize the two on the motorcycle were lacking a way to get a hold of any of them.

"I don't think anything is going to happen on the way back but just in case anything does, hold down this button right here. It will give any of my brothers a call within seconds. April and Casey already have cell phones but since you two aren't riding with them I figured you needed something that would be quicker and safer to use. You know, hands-free instead of either of you trying to use your own cell phones." He gave Arietta a small smile before double checking that Lyra's helmet was secure.

“Good lookin' out, Professor Plum.” Arietta lightly punched the top of Donnie's shoulder before she guided Lyra's arms around her waist. The van was moving and she was going to keep true to her word as she released the kickstand so she could take off. Donnie looked toward Leo as the bike followed behind the van a very confused expression on his features.

“Why is she coming up with color nicknames? I mean, Professor Plum? Really?”

“Sometimes it's just better to go with it, Donnie,” Leo mused having already questioned her about it earlier. The two eldest raced to catch up with Raph and Mikey who waited for them just outside of the walls to the estate. The brothers made sure to keep themselves scarce as they followed the vehicles closely. They had been able to make a huge dent in distance and felt only a slight rumble from the explosion that went off. Casey let out a small whistle seeing the mass of fire in the side view mirror.

“Definitely looks like someone forgot the gas stove was on.” He smirked hearing the man in the back of the van let out a chuckle.

“What can I say? When you're good, you're good.”

“I can hear your ego inflating from up here,” April mused as she smirked back to the male assassin before looking toward the front again. The worry and uneasiness that settled on to the young reporter's face did not go unnoticed by Calliope. That was usually the same look she had when her siblings had the potential of being in danger or losing their lives.

“April I swear on my life that we will not harm your family. We will not ever lay a hand on them with malice or ill-will in our hearts. This I vow to you.” Dark violet eyes were met with green and somehow April knew that this woman's words rang true. She gave the assassin a single nod to show her acceptance of the promise before she turned her gaze to the roads again.

As both vehicles turned heading more into the city the four brothers were able to finally scale up to the high rooftops. Their movement was swift and fluid as they made sure not to lose sight of neither the van or the motorcycle. They had not seen the figure following them, keeping himself hidden in shadows and several paces back from the group as not to alarm them of his presence. Moving to the ledge of the building the light illuminated the armor that had similar fashion to Dorian's own assassin armor. The coloring of black and indigo the only variation in the one that trailed them. His mask colored in white and indigo was shaped to look like a crow and served to hide his face well. The figure stopped his pursuit, ice blue eyes narrowing as he tilted his head to the side watching the group vanish into the distance.

"Master Hisoka, they have left the estate and are heading back to their lair. I regret to inform you as well that your manor may have been blown to bits." He winced hearing the string of curses being bellowed into the earpiece and he quickly reached up to end the call. His eyes closed as he began chuckling to himself in amusement before disappearing again into the darkness.

[shirlleycoyle]

The Duchy of the Toe Adam

Part snarky space cult opera, part visionary body horror, and part parody of one particular pillar of science fiction, today’s Terraform is in a bizarre and delightful league of its own. I’ve already said quite enough—let Lincoln Michel, writer, editor, and the author of Upright Beasts, take you on a far flung voyage to a planet where worshipping the wrong appendage can get you killed. -the ed

We were being taken to the duchy of the Toe Adam. We had been captured or, as the Toe Adamites saw it, saved from the clutches of the Nose Adam during the battle. There were many corpses strewn across the purple fields. The body parts of the soldiers had been scattered like asteroids across the dark expanse of dirt.

My first mate, Vivian, had two fingers on her left hand sliced off by laser fire. I’d lost an ear and had a bullet in my side. Aul-Wick, our piscine mechanic, had shouted curses in our comms, then piloted his aquatic globe into the smoke and disappeared.

“Fish-faced coward,” Vivian said, hacking up blood.

From the back of the truck, we watched the surviving Toe Adamites stroll somberly through the fields. They lifted the legs of the fallen and sliced off one toe from each. The toes were placed in a gold rimmed box.

“You’re lucky we found you. The Nose Adamites are monsters,” the Toe Adamite surgeon said as she slurped the bullet out of my torso with a silver hose.

“Is that so?” I grunted.

The surgeon was wearing bright red scrubs. Her eyes were wide and white above the mask. She nodded and her voice got low. “They say that Nose Adam and his followers eat the nostrils of newborn babes. They believe the flesh imbues them the power of God. That’s why their duchy is strewn with tiny bones that lodge in the feet of the faithful.”

“I don’t remember any fucking baby bones,” Vivian said from her surgical table.

“Well, that’s what they say,” the surgeon said dismissively. She slapped a patch on my side, burned it into place. Then she began working on my missing ear.

“Do you Toe Adamites eat the toes of babies?” I asked.

Both surgeons looked up, gasping.

My surgeon shook her scalpel in front of my face. “Don’t say such blasphemy when you meet the Toe Adam. He’s fair, but not forgiving.”

“Eating babies!” the other surgeon yipped. “Who do you take us for? Those swamp dwelling Spine Adamites!”

Coming to this planet had been Aul-Wick’s idea. He’d intercepted a distress call from a religious colony on the surface. They’d arrived centuries ago to create a holy utopia, but now were desperate for food, certain sacred herbs, and lots and lots of weapons. Since we were in debt to two gangsters and three galactic federations, I agreed.

I didn’t know if Aul-Wick was warned about the Toe Adamites and Nose Adamites. He didn’t have toes or noses, only gills and fins, so perhaps it meant nothing to him.

When we breached the atmosphere, our sales pitch was met with a surface to air missile.

*

The cell the Toe Adamites placed us in was comfortable enough. A small porthole looked out at the dragon vines crawling across the purple fields toward the undulating ocean. I had a bandage over my regrowing ear, and Vivian’s hand was wrapped in a glass medical glove.

“Fucking wankers,” Vivian said. She was hunched in the corner chewing on a nutrient strip. The veins in her cheeks glowed faintly blue with anger.

Vivian’s species had evolved a million light years away from Earth, yet she looked almost exactly human except for her glowing veins and ridged cheekbones. The universe was weird like that.

“Which?” I asked. “The Toe Adamites or the Nose Adamites?”

“All the goddamn Adams,” she said.

Our stress levels were dangerously high, and Vivian suggested we engage in meditative copulation. We humped against the doorway, which was engraved with the profile of the face of the Toe Adam. As far as I could tell, it was identical to the face we’d seen on the banners of the duchy of the Nose Adam.

A Toe Adamist priest in a long crimson robe guided us to the meal hall. He waved over a young boy who placed two bowls of pinkish hunks floating in tan liquid in front of us. There were hard black knobs sticking out of the hunks which I mistook for seeds.

“What’s this crap?” Vivian said.

“These are marinated mobbin toes, a delicacy of this planet. Or at least the closest thing this planet has to a delicacy.”

The toes were sour and surprisingly squishy. I gobbled them down to stop my stomach rumbling. Vivian asked for a second bowl.

“How long have you been living on this planet?” I asked.

“On the Purple After?” The priest fiddled with his engraved staff. “Many generations. Although our generations go by pretty quickly on this planet. It was a paradise when we landed, before the False Adams divided us.”

“What makes you sure your Adam is the right Adam?” Vivian said.

The priest was unperturbed. “The Purple After is the paradise we were promised, made physical by the cosmos. We are walking on sacred ground here. What is the part of man that touches the ground?”

“Depends how he walks,” Vivian said, belching and pulling the black curls of her hair behind her ear.

“The upright man,” the priest said, “walks on his feet. And what is the part of the body that digs into the lord’s dirt? The toe.”

“There’s no Heel Adam I guess?” Vivian said.

“Vivian, please,” I said.

“No,” the priest frowned. “There is only the Toe Adam and the False Adams. That is all there has ever been.”

The Toe Adamites permitted us to wander the compound. The tech was decades out of date. Centuries maybe.

“I want to find out what the hell started this war,” Vivian said. “Let’s find the oldest, gnarliest woman and ask her.”

I rubbed my newly regrown ear. The lobe constantly itched. “Okay, but please let’s try being polite.”

In the pews of the prayer room, we found a shriveled old woman with white hair down to her feet. Vivian knelt beside her, took one hand in hers.

“Grandmother, we are strangers from another land. Can you tell us what started the war between the Nose Adam and the Toe Adam?”

The old woman looked at her, grimaced. “Oh, all dem Adams have always been at war. Least as far as I can recall.”

“All the Adams?” I asked.

“Well, let’s see ‘ere,” the old woman said, counting with her remaining fingers. “Der’s Nose Adam and his bastards in the west. Them Skull Adamites are barricaded by the northern shore. Spine Adam as his duchy in the swamp. And der’s our pure and holy and good and true Adam, the Toe Adam. Right in this blessed duchy.”

“Wow,” I said. “Okay.”

The old lady gave us a weird grin. She leaned forward. Her eyes were wild beneath the wrinkled folds. “There used to be dem Finger Adamites in the hills. Thin and gangly as a pinky they were. We wiped ‘em out right quickly.” She licked her cracked lips and laughed. “Blew up their pod so dey ain’t ever coming back.”

The old lady was cackling uncontrollably now. She was almost falling out of the pew. Vivian and I headed quickly back into the hall.

*

Vivian’s yellow pupils disappeared, and her head flipped back almost ninety degrees. I ran to brace her. “It’s Aul-Wick,” she said in that gargling voice that still made my spine shiver. Aul-Wick’s telepathic possession was especially painful over long distances. “He wants to speak: Captain Baldwin, Vivian. Good evening. I spent a night hiding in the green river. Several tentacled fish attempted to eat me. The idiots. I zapped them good. The planet’s ground is harsh and sparse, but the rivers are like jungles of monsters. Also, did you see three moons? Pretty neat.” Vivian put her head straight, gagged. “Get. To. Point. Throat. Hurts.” Her head flipped back. Oh fine. Don’t tell us about your day, Aul-Wick. Don’t share common experiences to create a sense of bonding, Aul-Wick.”

“Aul-Wick!” I shouted.

“Fine. I made it back to the ship. Working on repairs. Be here in two days or I’m off this rock alone!”

“Now listen here,” I started, but Vivian’s head was back up straight.

“Ugh. Can’t that fish ever speak through you?” she said, rubbing her throat.

*

The Toe Adam floated above us on a plush levitating chair. He wore a long red cape that was clasped at the neck with a buckle shaped like intertwined feet. His ceremonial hat was a foot high and his feet were bound in golden sandals. There wasn’t much of his skin exposed, but what I could see was covered in bizarre growths that looked conspicuously like toes.

When he extended one foot, the priest elbowed me and coughed.

“Am I supposed to kiss it?” I said.

“As a heathen you are only permitted to stroke the toe,” the priest whispered loudly.

“Raw deal.” Vivian looked at me and rolled her eyes. She reached out a finger and tapped the nail of the toe of the Toe Adam’s left foot. “Oh wise Adam, thank you for letting me touch your holy hangnail,” she said.

I followed suit.

The Toe Adam regarded us. He was frowning, lips lined with tiny toes. He floated in the stale air of the throne room. “I’m told we saved you from the Nose Adam,” the Toe Adam said. “He would not have been as hospitable as we are.”

The wall of the room was lined with guards holding laser rifles. In the far corner, I saw a gigantic silver pod. It looked like an old-fashioned clone printer.

“What’s the beef you have against this nose guy anyway?” Vivian said.

“The Nose Adamanites are heretics!” the priest screamed.

The Toe Adam sighed, put up a hand for the priest. “The Nose Adam is a lost sheep. My brother, in a sense. I’m hoping I can save him. And I’m hoping that you can help me. My priest says you came here on a ship? Do you have weapons?”

“Oh yeah,” I lied. “Plenty.’

“A whole cargo bay of bombs and rifles,” Vivian chimed in.

The Toe Adam dropped his chair to the ground. He walked toward us, tapping his toe cane against the ground. “If you promise to donate your arms to our holy crusade, I will take you to your ship in the morning.”

“You got a deal,” I said. “Although how will weapons save the Nose Adam?”

The Toe Adam shrugged. The growths on his skin bounced. “He’ll be saved in the afterlife, as all sinners are.”

*

Vivian succeeded in hacking into the archives using her cybernetic hand. “Look at this Baldwin. These dorks were called the Church of the Purple After before they came here.”

She had the specs of the original mission vessel pulled up. I leaned over her shoulder, pointed at the hologram. “Interesting. They had five clone printers on the ship, for the five aspects of god.”

“Let me guess,” Vivian said. “The toe, the nose, the skull, the spine, and the finger.”

“No, this says the five aspects of god are the orb, the water, the belt, the mountain, and the vapor.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, but there is only one Adam listed on the manifest.”

“Son of a bitch!” Vivian said. She gagged. Her neck cracked backwards. “Ship is ready to rip. Come on over you two.”

I ran to hold Vivian in my arms. Lowered her gently to the floor. “Good, we need to get out of here. I think these fanatics murdered their original leader, the first Adam.” Vivian gurgled an agreement.

“Aul-Wick, the Toe Adam is taking us to the ship tomorrow,” I said. “We’ll meet you at the edge of the Frost Forest an hour after first light.”

“Roger. Do you think he’ll buy anything? We still got those spice crates.”

“He’s expecting weapons.”

“We’ve only got three blasters and a couple dozen sonic grenades. They won’t sell for shit!”

“We don’t have to sell them. We just have to shoot him.”

We rode in the Toe Adam’s war tank. It was long and sleek, with turrets at the cuticles. Toe Adam sat at the top, hatch open, his hair swirling in the wind under his war helmet.

“Today, by the grace of indivisible God, we turn the purple planet red with the blood of the heretics!” he shouted. The guards around us cheered.

I was close enough to him now to see that the growths on his skin had tiny nails at the tips.

Our ship was a few hundred yards from the Frost Forest. I could see the branchless fungus trees, their trunks dotted with orange warts instead of leaves, emerging in the distance. The sky was clear and the day was warm. We rolled across the gas flower marshes, gigantic puffs of blue pollen filling the air.

“What the fuck is that thing,” Vivian said, pointing toward a fissure in the ground. At first, I didn’t see anything. But then a two-headed beast pulled itself out of the crack. It was massive, each head as a big a whole man. The creature stood on its hind legs and roared.

“Mawbear!” the driver shouted.

The Toe Adam’s face contorted grotesquely. He looked like he might weep. “No,” he said, weakly.

The creature was about the size of the tank, and looked just as strong. A carpet of brown fur flapped over its thick scales.

“Kill it!” Toe Adam screamed. “Slay the demon!”

“Lord help us,” the high priest muttered, holding his golden toe icon to his lips. “Not again.”

As the Toe Adamites ran toward the mawbear, blasters firing, Vivian wrangled a gun from the high priest’s robes. She told him to spill the beans or she’d spill his bean breakfast across the tank.

In the distance, the Toe Adam’s soldiers flew through the air in bloody arcs.

The Toe Adam was out on the ground, running in the other direction.

“Okay, okay,” the priest said. He finally told us the story.

Long ago, the Church of the Purple After had found a planet that fit the descriptions of the cosmic heaven in their scriptures. They departed on a mission ship, guided by their leader, Adam of the Orb.

Things had gone well, for a while. But after a couple winters the settlers were still having a hard time growing food, and divisions arose. When Adam lead a foraging party, he killed a small mawbear cub not realizing its mother was waiting in the trench.

When the five high priests, Adam of the Orb’s closest advisors, found the corpse of Adam strewn across the ground, each grabbed the closest hunk of their holy leader and sprinted back to their cloning pods. One grabbed a toe, one grabbed a finger, and so on.

Their religion said that each body had a soul, but that the soul could only enter one vessel. They only used their cloning pods on the recently dead. They believed that Adam’s soul would enter the first body cloned. But none of the five sects could agree on who was cloned first.

The Nose Adam, the Toe Adam, the Finger Adam, the Spine Adam, and the Skull Adam and their followers have waged war ever since. When they died, they were cloned to fight again. Each person on the planet had been killed countless times. Their heaven was an eternity of awaking, killing, dying, and awaking again.

This time, the Toe Adamites managed to murder the mawbear. It sunk to the purple fields with a tortured honk. The Toe Adam fired a blaster into the each of the mawbear’s skulls and then led the Toe Adamites in prayer.

They cheered.

Then they moaned.

From the west, the army of the Nose Adamites appeared. They rode on striped mobbins, galloping across the field.

“How did they know we were coming?” the high priest said, hat clenched to his chest. “We have truly been forsaken.”

The Toe Adamites and the Nose Adamites came together in a chorus of shouts, explosions, and screeches.

“Time for us to bolt,” Vivian said. She grabbed my hand and we sprinted toward the forest as the severed body parts fell around us in a macabre rain. Toes, fingers, noses, bones, and teeth splattered on the ground.

I grabbed the reins of a passing mobbin. Its rider had been reduced to two legs and a bloody stump of waist. I pulled off the lower half, and Vivian jumped on. I followed.

We galloped away from the battle. When I looked back, the soldiers had shrunk to the size of their names. Angry people the size of toes and noses, killing each other for a God that, if he existed, was orbiting some other star in some other distant galaxy in the great abyss of space.

When we hopped off the mobbin at the foot of the ship, I looked at Vivian and felt like my heart had been cloned inside my chest.

I kissed Vivian long and hard. She rubbed her hands through my greying hair. Her fingers had mostly grown back. Her cheek veins were pulsing bright red.

“Let’s do it,” I said. “Let’s give up this smuggling life. Buy a little house pod on a quiet planet with a white electric fence and a weathervane in the shape of comet spinning in the wind.”

Vivian looked away. “You sweet man,” she said. A smile curved up her face. “Shut the hell up. I’d rather face down space gangsters and gigantic bears than little children. Plus, we’re robbing the Ice Orbital next month, remember?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Okay. Never mind.”

Vivian laughed.

The ship was in front of us, engines purring.

*

Aul-Wick greeted us on the ship’s ramp in his floating orb. His scaled face was puffed and nervous.

“This is a little awkward,” he said.

“What’s awkward, Fish Face?” Vivian said.

“Tell us later, Aul-Wick. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Little bubbles floated out of his gill slits. “I guess my telepathic messages went to all four of you,” he said.

“All four of who?” Vivian said.

But then I saw them. At the top of the ramp, stepping out of the darkness with guns drawn, the Ear Baldwin and the Finger Vivian emerged.

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