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fantasyoverreality98 · 4 years

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King of the Lost

Pairing: Aerin x F! MC

Summary: Raine says one last farewell before returning to Riverbend, but the desire to heal Aerin’s corruption finds her pursuing adventure once more.

Author’s Note: It’s been a long, long time, but I finally managed to finish this fic. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read, like, reblog/comment, I appreciate every single one of you!

Word Count: 3,116

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Children shrieked with delight outside, the sun casting a streak of light across the inn floor. Everyone celebrated without knowing how close they had come to complete and utter disaster. The world was just as it always had been.

But not for Raine.

As she forced herself out of bed, her muscles flared with pain. It was going to take a while for all the injuries to heal. Still, she could count her blessings that she had managed to survive the fight against the Dreadlord.

Someone knocked on the door after she’d finished getting dressed.

“Come in,” she said, tying her hair back.

The door opened to reveal her friends. Raine sighed, knowing what today would bring. She’d tried to convince herself that, when the moment came, she could handle it. It was a lot harder than she’d thought.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me, kit?” Mal grinned at her, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“I’m sure.” Raine took turns looking at each of them, a heaviness weighing on her heart. She took a shaky breath and tried to force a cheerful tone. “Well, are we all ready to go our separate ways?”

It was unclear who broke first, but in the next moment, they were all hugging each other. Tears burned at her eyes as she tried to keep it together. Not a single one of them looked unbothered.

Nia pulled Raine to her and hugged her tightly, whatever she said lost between the sobs. Mal joined in on the hug, tugging Imtura in alongside him. Tyril rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around the group, his sigh long and heavy.

“I can’t believe this is goodbye,” said Raine, blinking away the tears. “I knew the day would come, I just—” The rest of the sentence got caught in her throat and she shook her head.

For several minutes, the group stayed in their hug. When they pulled back, no one spoke. Addressing the reality would only make it that much harder.

So, they walked out of the inn together instead.

“Remember that you are all welcome to visit Undermount whenever you wish,” Tyril said, obviously trying his best to keep his expression neutral. Mal smirked, opening his mouth as if to make a comeback, but the elf cut him off. “As long as you can behave yourselves.”

Nia turned her head away to laugh, and for a moment, joy enveloped them.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you land rats.” Imtura cleared her throat and stood up straight. “I have to return to my ship. Take care of yourselves.” She looked like she had more to say, but shook her head and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

Tyril went next. Then Nia, accompanied by Threep. Finally, it was just Mal and Raine. She still had Kade, who was waiting somewhere in the city for her, excited to stay for a while before returning to Riverbend.

“Off to seek out more adventure?” asked Raine, grinning through the tears that watered in her eyes.

Mal sighed, avoiding her stare. “You know me. I’ve got so much to see.”

Silence swept over them, the heaviness of this particular farewell hurting more than the others. Raine remembered the beginning of the journey. Had someone told her that she would end up here, that what was meant to be a simple quest would turn into saving the realm, she would have laughed. She was just a young woman from Riverbend. A nobody.

The thought of saying goodbye to Mal somehow confirmed that this was the end. She’d always known the day would come, that the group of them couldn’t live the rest of their lives trying to find the shards, but the change that came with this moment terrified her.

What if this was the end of everything? What if life held no more adventure, friendship, love? What if the memories of this journey faded into oblivion?

“Try not to forget about me,” Raine said, trying her best to maintain at least a little bit of dignity.

Mal’s smirk faltered. He sighed, shaking his head as he reached out to her. “Aw, come here, kit.” His arms wrapped around her, and that was when the tears came.

Raine hugged Mal tightly, clinging to this final moment. There was still so much left unsaid, so much adventure that the group had yet to embark on. Once he left her, she would be alone. Kade would go off and do his own thing, while she had one last person to visit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Mal whispered, his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’m sure.” Raine pulled back, a slight smile tugging at her lips when he brushed away the tears trailing down her cheeks. “We’ll meet again, right?”

He nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he studied her face. “Right.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.” Raine raised her chin, knowing she had a few minutes before she broke down again. “Until we meet again.”

Mal’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He hugged her one last time, patting her on the shoulder before turning away, disappearing into the crowd like the rest of her friends without looking back. Raine stood in place for a long time, sighing as she tried to accept that she wouldn’t see her friends for quite a while.

The walk to the palace was quiet. Without the constant bickering, Raine felt more alone than ever. She wondered how she’d ever been fine in Riverbend with just Kade for company. A part of her had left with the rest of the group, and she had no idea if it could ever be recovered.

Now, she felt as though she was about to lose another part of herself.

King Arlan greeted her at the palace steps, dark bags under his eyes. He attempted to smile, but the result was lacking. His lips twitched, his shoulders remained down, his hands trembled slightly.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Raine said, chewing on her bottom lip. She hesitated, unsure what else to say, before dropping into a curtsy.

“Please, there’s no need for that.” King Arlan glanced at one of the guards. “Is he ready for visitors?”

The guard’s eyes widened and his face paled. “Your Majesty, I don’t think—Prince Aerin is not well, he—” With a sigh, the man bowed his head to the king. “Perhaps it may help him to receive a visitor. Though I would advise you not to leave him alone with her.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Raine’s voice echoed in the courtyard.

Several guards turned their heads to look at her, most of them frowning. She could feel the fear radiating all around her. Everyone was scared of him. As they should be. As she knew she should be.

King Arlan nodded to the guard who had spoken. He forced another smile when he focused his attention back on Raine. “Come, let’s go see him.” The pair entered the palace, the large doors shutting with a resounding boom behind them.

Raine would never get used to the sight of the palace. It left her breathless each time she saw it. Even more so when she thought of how lonely it must feel to grow up in a place like this without a sense of belonging. No amount of riches, of privilege, could replace an emptiness that lived deep inside a heart.

“We’ve tried to discover a way to heal him, but the healers fear it may be too late.” Arlan’s voice cracked as he spoke the last two words. “Oh, my poor boy—”

“The moonblooms,” Raine whispered under her breath, remembering that night by the lake.

It was wishful thinking, the chances of it working were slim, but she wanted to believe. She looked up at King Arlan, focusing on keeping her expression neutral.

“Have you ever heard of moonblooms, Your Grace? Aerin—” Saying his voice out loud sent a flash of pain through her. Clearing her throat, she continued. “Aerin said that they could heal the deepest of corruption. Perhaps they could help him?”

For a moment, she feared the king would laugh at her. Instead, he cast his eyes down to the floor, his steps coming to a halt. Arlan took several moments to answer. “Perhaps…I suppose we have little to lose at this point.” He looked up at her again, and she could see in his eyes the words he did not speak. “I shall send someone immediately. Did you see some?”

Raine nodded, keeping her eyes focused ahead. “Yes. In the Deadwood.”

The guards around them shifted, their armor creaking in the quiet hallway. Someone took a sharp breath, another stifled a cough. It amazed her that they’d allowed the two princes to travel into the Deadwood if the people were this scared of it.

“I see.” King Arlan started to walk again, turning his head to mumble something to the guard nearest to him. “Thank you for the information, Raine.”

She smiled, not saying another word as they began to walk again. After a few minutes, they reached the tower where the dungeon was held. The smell of the damp earth and decaying stones made Raine recoil. It was dark, and she wondered why they’d left him here instead of somewhere where the Light was strong. Perhaps he didn’t want to escape.

Water dripped onto the stone, the sound echoing when they reached the bottom of the steps. Everyone paused for a moment, the sounds of their breathing mixed with the trickle of the water.

Many of the guards stayed back, waiting near the stairs. Even King Arlan hesitated, deep lines appearing on his forehead as he stared into the darkness ahead. A quiet tapping began from one of the cells.

“Maybe…do you think I should go talk to him alone?” Raine knew that too many people would make it impossible to have a proper conversation.

King Arlan opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked past her, further into the dungeon, and took a deep breath. “Are you sure that is a wise choice?”

A voice echoed in her mind, the words sending a chill down her spine. “You’d still have me? Even as I am?”

Raine closed her eyes to prevent her eyes from watering. “I need to be alone with him.”

“Very well.” The king glanced at his guards and nodded.

Everyone except for Raine stayed at the far end of the dungeon. The tapping grew louder as she approached, and soon a haunting lullaby filled the air.

Shivers ran down her spine at the words. It was a tale that she knew all too well because she had lived it. An adventure in the Deadwood, the struggle between the Light and Shadow, a young man too far gone for salvation.

“I made it up myself. Do you like it?” The voice was the same, and yet it had changed. Gone was the cold, power-hungry side of him she’d witnessed just days earlier. Now, he sounded defeated.

Raine hesitated, lingering just out of sight. She had no idea what to expect when she faced him. Would Aerin still look like his corrupted self, or had he returned to normal?

“Come on. Don’t be shy.” She could hear the smirk in his voice.

With a deep breath, she stepped forward, coming face to face with Aerin.

Dark lines streaked across his face, his skin a pale gray. But he looked better than he had in the Shadow Realm. She could see the parts of the prince that she’d started to develop feelings for in the Deadwood.

“Hello, Raine,” he said, grinning up at her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She stepped closer to the cell, and Aerin did the same. They were separated by mere feet now. “Hello, Aerin. I came here to say goodbye.”

For a moment, the smirk faltered. His lips turned down in a slight frown, and he cast his eyes to the floor. But he collected himself within moments, meeting her gaze once more.

“And where are you off to now? Some more grand adventures with your friends?” He wrapped his hands around the cell bars, leaning in closer. “Or are you going to return back to your filthy hometown?”

Despite his words, she could hear the hurt in his voice. His cruel words no longer fazed her. Not when she could see that he was trying his best to hurt her, to fight against what good still remained inside.

“I think your father is sending someone to find some moonblooms,” she said, ignoring Aerin’s words. “He just wants to help you.”

The laugh that came from him sent shivers down her spine. Raine turned to look at the men waiting near the stairs, and was surprised to find the spot empty.

She was completely alone with Aerin.

“No one can help me.” He leaned in, and she found herself drawn closer, leaning in until their faces were inches apart. “You cannot be the hero this time, Raine.”

Aerin didn’t move when she approached, wrapping her hands around the bars, just beneath his. “I don’t care about being the hero. All I care about is you.”

Despite everything he’d done, how much chaos he’d created, she still cared. The idea of having to accept a world where the prince was forced to live out the rest of his days here was one she refused to accept. Even worse, she thought of what might happen if the people decided that Aerin should pay for his crimes with his life.

Raine refused to let that happen.

“You may try to fool everyone by saying it was all an act, but I know there is more to you, Aerin Valleros. Somewhere, even if it’s buried deep, there is still good in you. And I refuse to give up on that part.”

He studied her face, his expression unwavering. “What makes you so sure about that?”

She didn’t have a clear answer. All that she knew was there had to be more to him. Whatever had happened to make him turn to the Shadow, it wasn’t enough to extinguish all the light inside. Even the deepest of corruption could be cleansed. Raine believed that with every beat of her heart.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. She searched his face for some hint of the prince she’d thought she knew in the Deadwood, but it was difficult to tell whether any kindness survived inside.

The Aerin she thought she knew was dead. Perhaps he had never really existed at all.

“I need to believe that what we shared was real,” Raine whispered, so close now that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “Tell me that I’m not wrong.”

She should be ashamed that she wanted to believe that any of the time they’d shared together was real. Aerin had kidnapped Nia. Every action proved how untrustworthy he was, and yet she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The kiss by the lake lingered in her thoughts, haunting her late into the night. She needed to believe that there was hope for him.

He studied her face, his eyes flickering to her lips. “I think only you know the answer to that.”

Raine took a deep breath, the sharp inhale echoing in the quiet dungeon. It was the first time the two of them were alone since he’d revealed his true nature. There was no need to put on a show anymore. He had a bruise from when Kade had punched him, the skin near his eye a rich purple.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs, the sounds of life roaring around them once again. Raine blinked, giving her head a slight shake when she felt the presence of others near.

This was it. Perhaps she would never see him after this.

“Aerin—” She pressed her lips together, hesitating before releasing her grip on the cell bars. He kept his eyes locked with hers when she raised a hand to touch his cheek. “I’m sorry things had to be this way.”

Voices filled the stairway. The time for them to part ways had come.

And she knew in that moment that she wouldn’t rest until Aerin was freed.

His brows drew together as he looked at her face, his lips turning down in a frown. “I—”

Without taking the time to think things through, Raine leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him with urgency. Her heart raced in her chest.

“Until the stars align for us again,” she whispered against his lips, pulling away before the guards arrived.

The two of them locked eyes one final time, hands clasped between them. As Raine turned to head back to the stairs, she allowed her fingers to brush his, shivering at the cold that rushed in when their skin no longer touched.

Her eyes burned as she walked past the guards with her head held high. No one would see her cry. Not today.

“How is he?” Arlan asked once Raine had exited the tower. His forehead had deep lines etched into it. “Is he alright?”

She had no idea how to answer that question. So, Raine turned to the king and tried to steady herself. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Arlan’s eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat, averting his gaze. “There may not be much we can do for him. It may be too late for—”

“What if I find the moonblooms?” Interrupting the king was a dangerous thing to do, but Raine no longer cared. She would turn Morella upside down in search of a cure. This couldn’t be the end of Aerin’s path.

“I’ve already sent some of my most trusted men in search of them. You’ve done more than enough, Raine. It is time to rest.”

Less than ten minutes later, she left the palace, unable to ignore the feeling deep down that she had to do something. This was not the end. It was just the beginning.

Her heart yearned for adventure, and she knew exactly what she must do. Aerin’s words at the edge of the lake echoed in her thoughts. The memory of the moonblooms blossomed in her mind. There had to be a cure. She refused to give up so soon.

It was time to return to the Deadwood.

#aerin valleros #aerin x mc #blades of light and shadow #choices fanfiction #blades #bolas

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solangelover · 4 years

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12 Days of Gifts: Day 6

A/N: People need to stop filling my days, I’m very behind on this now :P

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

Prev | Next

There was a knock on the infirmary door, which was not a common occurrence at camp, especially not early in the morning. Most campers walked, or limped, right in. Kayla looked up from her desk to see the one and only son of Hades at the door.

“Will’s not here,” she said as she looked back at the paperwork she was slaving over. Healing may have been in her dad’s sphere, but she did not appreciate the boring stuff that came with it.

“Oh yeah, uh, I know.” Kayla glanced up when Nico paused, clearly cringing at his own words. “I mean, I was hoping to ask you something.”

“Oh,” Kayla said in surprise. She’s been around Nico often because of her brother’s need to pine via health rants, but she’d never had a one-on-one conversation with him. “Sure thing. What do you need?”

Nico shuffled from foot to foot nervously. “I, um, I wanted to get Will something. To, like, help him with healing and stuff. I was thinking, like, a bag? I mean, I know he has a satchel, obviously.” Nico flailed his arms around as he talked, or rambled, more like. Kayla felt her lip twitch as she tried to decipher exactly what Nico wanted from her and not laugh at how flustered he seemed. It was endearing. It was also a little clearer to her that the pining was mutual, though she had already bet money on that a while ago.

“You mean like a med pack?”

Nico visibly brightened, like a frustrated puppy who finally got their treat. “Yeah! That. Like in a waist bag thing though, like a tool belt, so it’s convenient in the field. I mean,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “That’s what I thought of. I don’t know if it’s a thing.”

Kayla smiled and tried to put the demigod at ease. “Yeah, a medical fanny pack-tool belt kinda thing does exist. And it is really convenient to have in the field. I think our older brothers used to have something similar.” It didn’t hurt as much to talk about them, but she still missed Michael and Lee desperately.

Nico seemed to understand the hidden feelings behind that statement. His shoulders dropped a bit and his expression softened, something Kayla couldn’t say she’d seen or had directed at her before from the boy. “Oh, I see.” His mouth twisted into a frown as paused in thought. “Do you... know where I can get one?”

Kayla tapped her chin in thought. “Well, probably any tactical or outdoorsy store would have something like what you want. Online ordering is always easy, but you’d have to ask Chiron about using a computer unless you have one.”

Nico nodded, his forehead creased in thought. “Okay, I can find that. Thanks, Kayla.”

“Wait!” Kayla stopped Nico before he jumped into a shadow. “What’s this for? Christmas?”

Nico blushed in response. “Kind of? But not really? I’m not sure, I just know Will keeps getting me things but it’s not Christmas yet so I’m trying to match him, or whatever.”

Kayla wanted to squeal at how cute Nico was being, especially since he only seemed embarrassed for caring. She took advantage of the moment, “Aw, Nico, that’s so sweet! I’m sure Will will love it!” She smiled her cheeky grin as Nico turned even redder before shadow-traveling away. These two boys were flustered idiots, and she honestly wished she could knock their heads together. She could only hope that the Christmas season worked its magic.

—

Will knocked on the door to Cabin 13. “Nico?”

He had just finished archery with his cabin and was hoping he could hang out with the son of Hades before dinner. They hadn’t seen each other all day, and Will kind of felt like his day was missing something without Nico in it.

Rustling could be heard through the door, along with a few Italian curses Will was now familiar with. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” Nico’s voice was at least an octave higher than normal.

“Are you sure?” More swearing, and something definitely just fell inside. “I’m coming in!”

Will swung the door wide open and rushed in, expecting to see Nico on the ground in pain or something. Instead, he came face to face with a reddening son of Hades and a mess of paper and ribbons behind him. “Uh…” He had no idea what to make of what he was seeing.

“Will!” Nico exclaimed, his hair sticking out in wild tufts like he was running his hands through them. He was clearly hiding something on his bed with his body. “What are you—I mean do, um… do you need something?”

Will blinked at Nico, still very confused. “Um, are you okay? What’s going on in here?”

Nico chewed his bottom lip as he stared at Will, eventually deciding to just give in. He sighed and moved to the side to reveal a box on his bed. When he noticed Will’s befuddled expression, he said, “I was… trying to wrap this box… for… you…” He looked away in embarrassment. Will normally found this very cute, but he was still unsure of what was happening.

“You… what?”

Another sigh. “Look, I was just—whatever, here you go.” He thrust the box towards Will. “I was trying to wrap it. You know, like the presents you gave me. But I was going to give it to you today anyways, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” He was still looking away as Will gently took the box from Nico’s hands.

After a moment of silence, Nico asked, “Well, are you going to open it?”

“Oh. Yeah, okay then.” Will fumbled for the lid and ripped it off, if only to dispel the awkward air that had descended around them. Inside the box, he found an olive-green medical pack, the kind that professionals might use in the field. It had many pockets of different sizes and an adjustable waist buckle. It was probably the nicest thing Will would ever own. “This is… oh my gods, this is so nice!” All of Will’s confusion got pushed out of his mind in favor of awe and excitement. “This is like, military-grade kind of stuff. I could hold so much! And it’s perfect if I’m ever out on a quest or in battle or something! Not that I’m often in battle, but it’s fantastic nonetheless.”

Will smiled, which made Nico smile. “Sorry it’s not wrapped or anything. It’s harder than it looks.” Will peered around Nico’s shoulders to see the mess that laid behind him. Random cuts of wrapping paper and ribbons were strewn across his bed, along with several strips of tape and crumpled paper. Considering Nico was wrapping a box, it was a sad sight.

Will chuckled and said, “I love it a lot, Nico. I can’t believe you even found something like this! And, like you said, the wrapping isn’t a big deal since it just gets ripped off anyway.” He raised an eyebrow at the mess. “Do you want me to teach you how to wrap? It’s not so hard, you just need practice. Boxes are the perfect place to start!”

Nico’s blush intensified as he glanced at his mess. “Um, yeah, that might be helpful.”

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #will solace #nico di angelo #a little look into how the gift ideas are formed #Nico uses his resources #and he's awkard #and he can't wrap #but he tried #fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #my post #pjo #hoo #toa #12 days of gifts #advent calendar challenge #christmas

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spoon-writes · 4 years

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Ends of the Earth | Chapter 19

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 19 - Shelter

“No!”

With a sigh, Sinead grabbed the little pincushion previously balanced on her leg and pulled it out of reach of the child, who had been in the middle of pulling out one of the needles. No matter where she put it, he always found a way to get his hands on it.

She was mending a rip in her shirt, grateful for the distraction from the flurry of thoughts that kept running through her head without ever coming to any real conclusion. It was exhausting how she kept getting pulled in different directions, one second happy, the next ready to crawl under her thin blanket and never come out again.

Eventually, she grabbed some needle and thread and started on some of her clothes that were more hole than fabric at this point. It felt good concentrating on something, the repetitive movement of the needle strangely calming.

The child sat beside her and followed every movement with his big, bottomless eyes.

She had just finished the last stitch when, without warning, all light flickered off. The ship started shaking violently, and she dropped the shirt to grab the kid before he fell off the bunk. Somewhere in the pitch-black something crashed to the floor.

As quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped and left behind an eerie silence. The telltale hum of the engine was gone.

Sinead pressed a hand to her forehead and breathed out slowly, trying to still her hammering heart.

The kid giggled.

“Oh, you think this is funny, huh?”

He babbled a reply.

“Okay, then.”

Carefully, Sinead got up with the kid safely tucked into her arms and made her way over to the ladder, where she climbed into the cockpit one slow step at a time. The ship was entirely dead.

The cockpit was bathed in a cold blue glow from a star directly ahead, with a single planet orbiting it.

“What happened? Is that Zessol?”

Mando unfurled from where he had been crouched under the control panel, with a small torch affixed to his helmet. The light reflected off his armor. “I don’t know. Ship suddenly lost power and dropped out of hyperspeed.” He disappeared under the controls again.

Sinead strapped the kid into his seay and plopped down onto her own. It was too dark to go poking around the controls, and she would probably be more hindrance than help.

“Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The energy cycler got fried when we dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Can you unfry it?”

“… maybe.” Mando got to his feet, mumbling a long string of Mando’a. He went to the navicomputer and pulled off a metal panel underneath it, exposing a mess of wires. After a couple of minutes, it sparked, and the controls lit up, piercing red in the darkness.

"Life support's back on. At least we won’t suffocate."

"We still might," Mando said, trying and failing to turn on the engine. "The star's interfering with the comm system. I can't send out an SOS."

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine," Sinead mumbled, trying to keep the growing worry at bay. She reached for the kid. "You okay, space bug?"

The kid babbled a string of nonsense, seeming totally unconcerned about their situation.

Suddenly, the ship lurched forward, catching Sinead off guard, and she hurriedly strapped herself into her chair. The turbines were still off, but Mando had managed to patch into the back thrusters, slowly sending the ship towards the planet which seemed pitch black against the backdrop of the star.

"You think we can make it in time?"

"We have to.”

The planet slowly turned green the closer they got, details appearing the closer they got. As the ship entered the planet's orbital pull, it started shaking so hard that Sinead's teeth rattled.

She had to force the words out of her mouth. “You sure you can land it?”

Mando didn’t reply. She was grateful for that.

The green surface turned into a forest that had to span most of the planet’s surface. Very slowly, Mando let the Crest drop inch by inch until it flew just above the canopy. Sinead held her breath.

Finally, Mando spotted a clearing and angled the ship towards it. They touched down with an echoing boom, sending Sinead’s head spinning from the sudden stop.

Stepping out of the ship was like stepping into another world; light came down through the leaves, creating flickering shadows on the ground whenever the wind rustled through the trees. A thick layer of decomposing leaves made the ground feel soft and swallowed the sound of Sinead's footsteps as she walked off the ramp. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. There were no soldiers to fight, no arena to infiltrate, no droids to smash. For a moment, there was only the breeze and the sweet smell of earth.

The peace was broken by Mando, who let out a frustrated grunt. He ducked under the ship and was poking around a bit of exposed machinery, the covering lying on the ground by his feet.

"Doesn't look good?" Sinead said even though she already knew the answer.

Mando slotted the cover back into place with more force than necessary. "The cooling unit is shot. We won’t get through the atmosphere without it.”

"I don't suppose you have a cooling unit lying around somewhere, do you?"

He pointedly ignored her. “I think there’s still enough power to scan the planet. Watch the kid, okay?”

The child came shuffling down the ramp, his big eyes growing bigger as he took in the new surroundings. When his feet hit the ground, he bent down and buried his hands in the dirt. After a moment he pulled out a fat worm that wriggled furiously in his hand.

“Hey, no, don’t-“

She started running, but it was too late. The kid popped the worm, dirt and all, into his mouth.

“No!” Lifting him up, she gave him her most stern look. “No. Spit it out.”

The kid gave her a toothy smile.

“Spit … oh what the hell. I have no idea what you are, you could just as well have an entirely worm-based diet.”

Mando appeared in the opening of the ship and looked up at the bright sky. “The closest settlement is about a day's travel. You two can stay here.”

Sinead looked at the quiet ship and chewed on her lower lip. Staying an entire day in one place with only the kid for company meant a long time for certain thoughts to sit and fester. "Or we could go with you. The kid's been cooped up in the ship for too long anyway, all that recycled air can't be good for him."

As if on cue, the child started wiggling in her grasp.

"He'll slow us down."

"I've already waited five years. What're a few extra hours."

Mando watched her for an uncomfortable amount of time, long enough that Sinead started to wonder if she had offended him somehow before he shrugged and disappeared into the ship.

She and the kid waited outside while he gathered supplies. They weren't stocked for a trek through the wilderness, but if the weather kept up and the undergrowth stayed as sparse, it wouldn't be a problem. Once he was ready, they set out in the direction of the settlement, walking slowly while the kid ambled back and forth between them. He kept wandering in front of Sinead whenever something caught his attention, and when he stopped to watch a sprawling anthill, she let out a huff.

"I told you it'd be slow."

"It’s fine."

They walked on in silence. The forest teemed with invisible life; birds hid in the treetops where they trilled out a warning as the trio passed by; somewhere far off, an animal bleated, and the sound echoed between the trees. When was the last time she’d felt this calm? Not since before Loovria, at least.

That reminded her ...

"You never told me why you hate droids. Back on Loovria."

"I ... didn’t." He fell silent again until Sinead was starting to regret asking. Then again, he had heard her tragic backstory; now it was time to hear his.

"I was ..." he paused again. They passed a lone dead tree that shed white bark in thick curls. "I wasn't born a Mandalorian. My village was attacked by droids. The Mandalorians took me in. Trained me in the Fighting Corps." He spoke slowly like every word had to be carefully considered.

She chanced a quick glance at him, even though his helmet would reveal nothing. He walked stiffly and kept his helmeted face turned away from Sinead.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He shrugged.

"You know ..." she said without being sure how to continue. The words hung in the air while she wracked her brain for something to add. "I'm Corellian, but I've only been to the planet a handful of times. My mother hated the place, she never wanted to tell me why. My father was a real Corellian, would've spent the rest of his life among the stars if he could.” And in a way, he got his wish in the end. "Now there isn't really any reason to go back." She honestly didn't know why she was telling him this.

Mando was quiet for a long time. He finally looked at her, head slightly tilted to the side. "Sinead doesn't sound like a Corellian name."

That wasn't quite what she’d expected. "That’s because it's not. I’m named after an Alderaanian woman who saved my mother’s life. She got wounded behind enemy lines, and Alderaanian Sinead dragged her to safety. My mother was never the sentimental type, but I guess getting carried through hostile territory for days leaves an impact."

"She was a soldier?"

"A mercenary. Didn't like being called a soldier, which I always thought was a bit backward. My father was a pilot, ran cargo most of his life." She wanted to ask about his parents but figured she wouldn't press her luck. "He taught me how to fly. It's a shame you won't let me touch the Crest."

"You have flown it."

"Once. And that doesn't count! Your arm was hanging on by a thread; it was either that or stay on Loovria and get eaten by a nexu.”

"If it makes it into the air again, you can fly it all you want."

Sinead flashed a smile. "I’m honored."

"Just don't crash it."

"Oh please! Didn't you hear me before? I'm Corellian! We don't crash ships."

Mando's shoulders moved with what might have been a silent snort. "Right."

"It's true. We may do what in certain aviation circles is called a forceful downward trajectory terminating in an acute surface touchdown."

"And is the ship able to take off again?"

"Eventually."

This time she was sure she heard a soft chuckle, and she pursed her lips to keep from smiling. Perhaps the fresh air was getting to him too.

They wandered through a grove of thin white trees with sparse crowns that allowed sunlight to stream through the leaves. Thick moss covered the ground, and Sinead wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap between the trees. The kid seemingly had the same idea because when he passed a particularly soft-looking tussock, he slumped down, his little face weary. Sinead scooped him into her arms. "You've had enough walking for now? Lucky for you, you're so small, I can just keep you in my pocket."

"I can take him," Mando said, watching her as she shifted the child to rest on her hip.

"It's fine. You're carrying the supplies. And I think he's already asleep."

"It's a long walk for him."

"Yeah ..." she looked down at the already sleeping child. "You've ever thought about giving him a name?"

"Not really.”

“Well, you should. I can't keep calling him kid in my head. Just because you're fine with having no name doesn't mean it works for everyone else. He's gonna grow up very confused."

Mando was silent for a moment. "When the Guild business is over, I'm sure whoever raises him can give him a name."

"What?" Sinead stopped abruptly, staring at him like she'd never seen him before. "You're gonna leave him? Just like that?"

"A ship's no place for a kid."

"I grew up on a ship, and I'm fine."

Mando was silent for a moment. "It's too dangerous. He deserves to grow up somewhere stable."

"And that's impossible if he stays with you?"

He started to walk again, and she hurried to keep up. "You saw what happened on Tatooine, and the droid. What if we hadn't come back to Loovria? It's better this way."

She looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. His small hand had gripped a fold on her jacket. It didn't feel right, Mando without the kid. She didn’t know what to say; it wasn't her business, after all, so she changed the subject. "Do you know how old he is? Can't be more than a couple of years, he's so tiny."

"He's 50."

She let out a snort. "Right."

"I'm serious."

"He can't speak, Mando. He's not older than us. Or me, anyway."

"I have the last four digits of his chain code," Mando said, sounding annoyed.

"And what does that mean?"

"That I know his age. It's why his tracking fob is off. It's the only reason the Guild hasn't caught up. Some species mature slower than others."

The kid made a soft sound in his sleep, and Sinead pressed her palm against his head, so warm and fragile. She felt a pang of sadness; even if he was 50 years old, he was still a small kid lost in the galaxy. Who knew how long it had been since he'd last been with his family? "I guess he has enough wrinkles to pass as a 50-year-old." It wasn't very funny, but she didn't know what else to say.

"I think, maybe ..." Mando trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"I think he might be a Strand-Cast."

The word rang a bell and brought Sinead back to a half-remembered conversation overheard on Sriluur. "That's a clone, right?"

Mando shifted the pack on his back. "Close. It's more like a … a type of bioengineered creature.” / Or just engineered creature.

That was harder to believe than the kid's age. She studied his small face, trying to find any signs of him being … what? "What makes you think that?"

"I just ... think it's a possibility."

"Hm." She moved the kid from one arm to another, careful not to wake him. "Would explain why the Imps want him back." The implications made her stomach twist, and she subconsciously held him closer. "You notice anything special about him?"

Mando waited for an odd amount of time before he answered, "No. I haven't."

... ... ... ... ...

Din didn’t know why he had lied to Sinead. While he usually trusted his senses completely, there was something about the child's powers that made him uncertain of what he had actually seen. The mudhorn had almost caved in his chest, and he had only been saved by the strength of his armor. The ground had shaken as it charged at him, pain exploded across his chest when he breathed. And suddenly, the beast was lifted into the air. The child saved him even though Din wasn’t his ally.

There was a tightness in his chest, a phantom pain from the battle with the beast.

They walked until the sky started darkening and the wind picked up. Save for the grove of white trees, the forest stayed the same. The child had woken up sometime before and watched the surroundings with curious eyes. Maybe he thought they were back on Sorgan.

"I think it's starting to rain."

As he turned to Sinead, a raindrop hit his helmet, the sound so much louder in his ears. It was followed by a rapid patter of rain on leaves, and soon the rain came down hard, obscuring his vision.

Sinead was barely visible through the sheets of rain.

"Of course this planet has crazy weather," Sinead shouted over the sound of the rain. "This is on me for thinking we could have a nice walk through the woods."

He peered at Sinead through the rain and the darkness. Water dripped from her hair and into her eyes, and the kid had turned his face into her jacket. With a sigh, he undid the fastenings of his cloak and thrust it at Sinead, hoping that she would take it without a word. She offered him a wan smile. The already sodden fabric was better than nothing.

The ground was soggy, and it wouldn’t be long until the whole forest was a muddy swamp. The settlement was hours away, but they couldn't keep going like this.

"We have to find shelter," Din said, motioning for Sinead to follow him through the trees which were running with water, little pools forming between the roots.

"You know, I don't think we're gonna find a cave anywhere near." Sinead held the kid close to her chest, trying to shield him from the worst of it.

"Follow me."

Before long, cold water had soaked through his clothes. He kept glancing back at Sinead, who looked like a misshapen lump under his cloak. The kid had to be freezing.

Desperation crept up his spine, and he started to move faster.

It had come to the point where he would have accepted a hollowed-out tree or a wide branch when his visor indicated there was something between the trees. He pushed through a thicket, wet branches slapping against his armor, and there, in a small clearing, stood an old cabin. The windows were dark and empty, and the roof drooped under the weight of dead leaves. Nobody had been there for a long time. Years of rain and rot had warped the doorframe, and Din had to shoulder it open, the wood nearly buckling with every shove. It finally gave out with a loud crack.

A lantern hung on a hook beside the door, and Din pulled it down. Amazingly, it spluttered to life with a hiss and cast a weak light on the drab surroundings.

The cabin was a single room covered in a thick layer of dust and animal droppings. There was an overpowering smell of mildew and earth, and the last inhabitants had left multiple stringed cans hanging from the ceiling that clattered when the door was forced open. Most of the furniture left behind was broken. There was a mount of ash in the soot-covered fireplace. A single bed had been pushed into the corner.

Sinead hurried into the cabin and turned in a circle. "It's better than the cave on Luria."

"How is he?" The pack thumped to the ground and Din let out a soft grunt. His muscles were stiff and aching.

She pulled back the cloak to reveal the child. "Okay, I think. He's cold."

Din grunted and set to work. It didn’t take long before a fire was lit from the remains of a chair Din took apart. There was no way he would be able to find any dry firewood outside. It sounded like the rain had picked up since they entered the hut, coming in near vertically and thudding against the grimy windows.

Sinead sat cross-legged in front of the fire with the kid on her lap. He looked solemnly into the dancing flame and now and again would bite into a piece of bantha jerky with a strange sort of ferocity.

Din watched as Sinead removed her braid and combed through her hair with her fingers. He had never noticed how long it was. She stared into the fire in an almost hypnotized way, her long fingers working through every section of hair. The firelight cast deep shadows on her face, making her look unreal, like a painting.

"Mando?"

He blinked. He hadn't noticed her looking at him.

"You okay?" She tilted her head slightly. "There's room for you by the fire if you want. You must've gotten as soaked as us."

He suddenly became aware of how cold and wet he was, his armor feeling impossibly heavy and constricting. Slowly, he sat beside her and immediately felt the warmth radiating from the fire through layers of beskar and clothing.

"You've really never taken your helmet off in front of anyone?"

He watched her from out of the corner of his eyes, grateful that the helmet hid his face. "Never."

"You weren't born with it. When was the last time someone saw your face?"

The fire crackled and threw up sparks.

"When the Mandalorians took me in. I swore to the creed."

"And that means never showing your face?"

"Yes. This is the way."

She looked into the fire with an unreadable emotion in her eyes that made Din look away. "I heard Xi'an say something like that. I didn't know what it meant, and then there were sorta more important things to deal with."

The memory of her dealing with the droid sprung up in his mind; the way she looked standing over the broken corpse with fire and rage in her eyes.

And she’d done it all for the child.

"I'm sorry for all of that."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I contacted them."

"Which you did because of me. You didn't know they were backstabbing bastards."

Maybe he hadn't known, but the revelation hadn't exactly been shocking.

"Well, it all worked out in the end. We have a new lead." Her voice faded away as she stared into the flames.

It was suddenly hard to look at her.

She let out a yawn and looked at the bed. "It's probably time to turn in. How long to the settlement?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If the rain lets up."

She made a disgusted sound. "I definitely need some sleep if I'm gonna survive tomorrow." Getting to her feet, she cradled the kid in her arms. "You coming?"

His spine straightened as he looked to the bed. "Uh ..."

"C'mon." Sinead shrugged. "The bed's big enough for both of us, and you need sleep just as much as I do."

Din stood as Sinead went over to the bed and started pulling back the sheets, which disintegrated in her hand. When she sat down, the mattress released a cloud of dust.

"It's better than the one in the Crest," she said while bouncing up and down. The mattress springs screeching with every movement.

Din turned his back to her and pretended to go over the supplies, hands going still when she lay down to a wailing chorus of springs. He didn’t often share a bed with someone else and generally it wasn’t for sleeping. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he turned to face the bed where Sinead was lying on her back. The kid was swaddled in a blanket, fast asleep beside her.

Get a grip, he told himself as he sat on the edge of the bed to a cacophony of squeaking springs. He tried to control his breathing, but it felt like his heart was beating twice as fast. They had been sharing the same living space for weeks, and sleeping beside her gave him heart palpitations? Giving himself a mental shake, he lay down on the mattress, which was lumpy with age and just marginally more comfortable than the floor. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to focus on a spring that had worked its way through the outer layer and was trying to shank him. The rain pattered against the roof in a hypnotic rhythm, and the dying fire cast a warm light over the small room.

Between them, the child let out a little sound in his sleep.

The mattress dipped as Sinead turned onto her side, and Din's concentration shattered.

“You’re okay sleeping in your armor? Isn’t it uncomfortable?” She spoke quietly as to not wake the kid.

It was. The fire had only succeeded in drying the outer layers and leaving everything else cold and constricting. Even if it weren’t, it was doubtful he'd get much sleep anyway. "I’m used to it.” It came out in a breath.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sinead prop her head to her hand and give him a faint smile. "'I'm used to it' implies that it isn't." She smiled gently, her dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

Despite himself, he rolled onto his side. The child slept between them, acting as a buffer.

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Safely hidden by his helmet, Din studied her face; still damp hair lay in soft-looking waves across the mattress, and there was an unreadable look in her eyes, in the way her smile seemed to slowly slip from her lips. She plucked at the kid's blanket. "How were they, the Mandalorians that took you in?"

The question caught him off guard. He watched a spider crawl up the wall behind Sinead while he thought.

"They treated me as an equal, fed and trained me, even though I wasn't their kin."

Sinead's eyes were warm and inquisitive. "Were there others like you?"

It had been a long time since he thought back on those days where alternating grief and gratitude had made his head spin. "We were foundlings. Lots of children were affected by the war."

"Where are they now? Your clan."

He searched her face for any sign of an ulterior motive almost hoping that he would find it and shut the conversation down without a second thought, but he didn’t find any; she looked as calm and curious as before. “After the great purge, they went into hiding.” He hoped that was enough of an answer. It was all he could give.

“Oh.”

The silence stretched between them, only interrupted by the rain and the sound of some small animal running across one of the rafters. Din considered pretending he had fallen asleep when Sinead started talking in a voice barely above a whisper. "Back when … before I was …" for once she seemed lost for words. "Before everything happened. My parents were cargo runners, willing to go pretty much anywhere in the known galaxy even with a little kid in tow. As I said, my father was a pilot, and my mother was in charge of security. As a kid I honestly couldn't imagine a better life than living out among the stars. I still remember the day I learned that most people go their whole life never leaving their home planet. I couldn't wrap my mind around it."

His armor dug into his side, but he didn’t notice. Her words came out softly like she was soothing a crying child.

"We were a pretty tight-knit group. Our co-pilot Raans, I used to call him Uncle. Don't remember a time where he wasn't a part of the crew. He was married to the navigator Tir Farr. Quite the couple.”

Farr. Were all her aliases taken from people she had known in the past?

"We were our own little village. Our old gunner, who I never actually saw leave the ship, taught me how to cheat in sabacc. Said it was better learning from him than after some guy fleeced me out of all my credits." The sound of rain seemed to melt away as she talked. A sad smile played on her face as she told him about the rest of the crew, looking so small curled up on the bed, and Din felt something stir in his chest. Suddenly, the space between them seemed to shrink. If he wanted to he could reach out and touch her.

“I had this old, really cheap voice recorder that I would go around and interview the crew. Must’ve ended up with hours of stories.”

“Why?”

“It was something my father told me once that really stuck with me. ‘As long as someone remembers you, you’re never really gone.’ And in my child mind it meant that if I made sure they would always be remembered then they’d never leave. When I got older and found out that wasn’t how it worked, it sort of became a habit. Every time we landed on a planet I’d find someone who was willing to talk to me. Ended up with a pretty comprehensive collection.”

She trailed off, and the hut was once again silent. The fire had burnt down to glowing embers.

"What kind of cargo did they run?" His throat felt constricted and the words came out harsher than he intended.

"Whatever paid the most, which, as you know, more times than not were less than legal. They thought I didn't know about the smuggling, but I pretty quickly learned what was in the crates they hid under the flooring. I overheard my parents argue over when to tell me. They agreed that once I turned eighteen …" he heard her swallow thickly. “That’s why I have to find Kyen. He’s the only family I have left. No matter if … if he’s changed, I have to know. I owe it to him.”

It was too dark to see her face and for that Din was grateful. "I'm sorry." It sounded so hollow coming from him, but he didn’t know what else to say.

"Yeah. Me too."

They fell silent. The fire had burned down to glowing coals, and Sinead was a black silhouette in the darkness.

"Mando?" She whispered. "Are you asleep?"

"No."

Minutes ticked by. Eventually, Sinead's breathing turned slow. He watched the contours of her chest rise and fall and tried to time his own breathing with hers, but it was like a band had constricted around his chest, making it uncomfortable to breathe.

Forcing his eyes shut, he resigned himself to a sleepless night.

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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goblincas · 3 years

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Chutes and Creatures: A Four-Story Story

Oh no, it seems that a notorious fugitive is trespassing within Bnanom Brictom Community Center! And during a family-friendly Halloween event, no less. Shameful.

It's Lovell's first day as a center volunteer, but damn it, he's more than prepared to handle this.

(Featuring... loose and very homebrew-y DnD inspiration!)

To: Staff @ Bnanom Brictom Community Center

From: Bnanom Brictom Security and Office of Inner-Community Relations ([email protected])

Good evening, everyone. I sincerely hope this message reaches you all well, conditions considered. An update: The building-wide lockdown is now in place. Right now, we can use all the help we can get. Feel free to continue mingling with party guests, both to keep up morale (your own and the guests’) and to gather potential scraps of intel or information, if you happen to stumble across it. Now, we’re not necessarily suggesting you all take on the role of amateur vigilante sleuths, but make of this message what you will. ;-)

Feel free to travel between floors as necessary— nonetheless, if you’re able, we suggest limiting or preventing floor-to-floor movement by party guests, whenever possible. In the meantime, we will continue our personal investigation and monitoring of the situation. Thank you again for your continued cooperation.

Expect a staff-exclusive raffle to be arranged, at the Center’s earliest possible convenience.

Happy Halloween,

Bnanom Brictom Security and Office of Inner-Community Relations

I. Rooftop

No doubt, this wasn’t how Lovell had expected his second day of community volunteer work to wrap up. Sure, to be fair, he’d never exactly been on the best of terms with luck— whether that luck belonged to himself, or to the victims of whatever collateral immolation he’d managed to create, that time around. In a way, Lovell supposed his mere presence was a bit of a time-release, possibly airborne poison. What right did he have to act shocked?

None. Absolutely none.

Sliding a finger across the chilled surface of his phone screen, Lovell watched the sky turn red and pulpy, before oozing down into the horizon. And since news had traveled fast among the face- and body-painted attendees, chatter had already grown frenzied, spiking in pitch and fervor. Straight-faced children clung to their parents’ arms. Several guests had since tugged off their wigs and other extraneous bits of costumery, signaling the spiritual end to their booze-free festivities. Lovell tugged at his cape on reflex, but kept it fastened around his neck. The fabric felt thinner than ever, tickling at his calves, before being swept back into the breeze.

“Alright, okay!” one of Lovell’s fellow volunteers hollered, using his cupped hands as an entirely ineffective megaphone. The guy was clearly a human, yet costumed up as an especially malnourished looking drow elf. It’s always what you can’t have, ain’t it?

“Listen. I know this whole situation isn’t what y’all were hoping for, sure, I get that. I really, really do. But y’all gotta stay put. Can’t move around the building until this is all sorted out— faster security can sort their way through the building, the sooner this will all be over. And, hey, how cool would it be if ya can go on to say that you were at the party where a world-infamous, kinda unhinged fugitive was finally taken in? Talk about a story for all your future parties, am I right?”

As the human volunteer babbled away, clearly still processing his own uneasiness, the crowd began to quiet. There was a short beat of silence after the volunteer finished, which hung in the air and soured at an astonishing pace; until, at last, an attendee spoke up.

She was standing, alone, toward the heart of the swarm. Her party store witch’s hat was tipped forward, its brim casting a shadow over her features. “There’s no way we’re safe right now, then. This super isn’t okay. So, you’re just fine with potentially endangering our lives in your whole quest for justice?” the petite half-elf said, speaking evenly, and at an unfittingly polite volume. “I mean, didn’t this guy they’re looking for, like, kill a ton of people or something? What if he’s on this stupid roof with us, right now? C’mon!”

From somewhere over Lovell’s shoulder, he heard a faint whisper of, “Well, we push ‘im right off, then,” followed by a snort and some stilted laughter. Lovell clucked his tongue, but couldn’t quite temper down his own giggle. Nothing wrong with making light of, frankly, a borderline Draconian situation. It was a philosophy he tried to live by, no matter how unsuccessful he often was at doing so.

Another stiff breeze swept through the crowd, and Lovell pulled his cape tighter around his arms.

As Lovell’s co-volunteer lost hold of his barely controlled state of panic, the half-elf began to scan the crowd, which was slinking back into conversation. After spotting Lovell’s mostly-concealed yet fluorescent yellow Bnanom Brictom polo, she huffed and charged toward him, wiry arms folded across her chest. Lovell readied himself by stiffening up and straightening his posture, defaulting to what he fondly deemed his business-friendly mech stance.

She stationed herself barely a foot ahead of Lovell, tilting her chin up to continue holding steady eye-contact. Still, when she spoke, she did a top-tier job of injecting some highly sterilized, artificial calm into her voice. “Please, please tell me you at least have more information for us. I’ll take anything,” the half-elf pleaded, furiously drumming her fingers against her own forearm.

Lovell shrugged, and the half-elf deflated. “Sorry, I only know what was in the email they sent out to us, which… wasn’t much. Look, I get the ethical questions that should definitely have been raised before this plan was made, but there’s not much that I can do for you. This is kinda completely out of my control.”

The half-elf chewed on her bottom lip, before breaking eye-contact to heave a sigh at the ground. “Whatever, fine,” she said, scuffing her boot against the concrete. She turned her gaze back up, squinting at Lovell in what seemed to be an attempted menacing glare. And, surprisingly, it was pretty damn effective. Huh, impressive. “Can I at least ask for a favor, then? At least, if it’s something that’s even in your purview.”

“Sure.” He could certainly use a distraction.

“I want you to find my girlfriend,” the half-elf said, her voice growing louder and more strained. “She’s probably still on the top floor. I was a dumbass and left my phone in the car, so I just need you to make sure she’s okay. And let her know that I’m okay, too. Can you at least do that for me, if I’m legitimately gonna be trapped in this petri dish of strangers having emotional meltdowns? Please?”

Beginning to gleam down at them was the ruddy face of the moon, as it fought its way through the clouds.

Lovell wiped his clammy palms onto his jeans, nodding at the half-elf. “Actually, sure, I think I can do that.”

“Great!” The caricature of a witch was bouncing on her heels. “Alright, so, I need you to look for Bryn. That’s her name. She’s the super tall, unfairly glamorous half-orc chick, and she’s carrying a couple of plastic battle-axes. She hand-painted those herself, y’know. Just tell her that Merrie sent you, and that I’m safe, alright?”

To think, he’d only wanted some mindless volunteer work at the local community center, and now there he was: Lovell Polonian, freelance messenger of love. God knows if he couldn’t stabilize his own damn relationship, then he’d just have to carry the torch for someone else’s.

Lovell flashed a final thumbs up, before heading toward the streamer-draped stairwell.

Meanwhile, his co-volunteer had entered a fugue state, swallowed by the mob.

II. Second floor

Sharply-tinted, orange and yellow string lights were blinking throughout the ballroom, chattering amongst themselves. Not long after reaching the floor, Lovell scrunched his nose; the space smelled like a chemical rosebush, as if a full can of dollar store air freshener had been detonated maybe an hour prior. It kind of burned his nostrils, just a bit.

Alright, maybe more than just “a bit.”

Lovell paused at the base of the stairs. He surveyed the sparsely packed room, where party goers were in a similar state to those on the rooftop. Several scuffed, plastic jack-o’-lanterns lined the walls, perfectly situated to watch the madness unfold.

Certainly not to Lovell’s surprise, Bryn wasn’t especially hard to locate. After all, she was the tallest guest in the room. Her loosely coiled, auburn curls rolled down much of her back, adorned with clovers and softening her otherwise angular features. Bryn’s thick brow was furrowed, while she clutched the pair of battle-axes in her left hand.

Lovell approached the half-orc woman cautiously, not wanting to startle her and end up bonked over the head by some lovingly decorated plastic. Next to a half-orc, he could hardly feel any scrawnier and less capable of immediate self-defense.

“Hey, excuse me, are you Bryn?”

Still, Bryn jolted, knocked out of her thoughts. She stared vacantly at Lovell for a moment, buffering as she rejoined reality. “Um, yeah. That’s me. But who the hell are you?” she asked, narrowing her gaze.

Lovell raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Just an innocent volunteer. Merrie sent me.”

At that, Bryn’s shoulders sagged, as she no longer attempted to mask the heaviness. “Shit, really? Wait, is she alright? Because I swear, if she—”

“She’s alright,” Lovell cut in, before Bryn managed to spiral into an all-out panic. “She was worried, and I needed something to do, so here I am. Just checking in for her.”

Bryn nodded slowly. “Oh, okay. So she’s still up on the roof, then?”

“Yup.”

“Well, guess that’s all I can ask for, at this point,” Bryn said, shaking her head and sighing, her hair cushioning the movement. “That she’s safe. God, this is such an awful situation. Awful. Hey, do you at least have any idea when the hell they’re gonna let us out of the good ol’ danger cage?”

Despite his better judgment, Lovell quirked a grin. “No clue. And your girlfriend had some pretty similar thoughts, by the way. Choice words ‘n’ all. To be perfectly fair, I don’t think anyone’s really on board with all of this.”

Bryn snorted. “Yeah, well, maybe aside from the literal cult recruiter or whatever in our midst. I’m sure that bastard’s getting a real kick out of this mess. Like, do they really think locking down the building is gonna make a difference? The guy uses dark magic, for god’s sake. Warded or not, I kinda doubt he’s gonna be contained within a damn community center. Sheesh,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and frowning.

Lovell’s responding chuckle was weak, but it was certainly there. He hesitated and peered around, giving the room another once-over. Most party goers had broken off into clusters, commiserating amongst their own ecosystems. The lights continued to buzz and flicker, chipping away at the darkness that had spread throughout the room.

Turning back to the half-orc, Lovell smiled. So long as he made the effort to hide his teeth, maybe it could even be read as a semi-comforting gesture. “Think of it like this, then: if that weirdo fuckhead can bust his way out quickly, then the lockdown isn’t gonna last all that long. So, maybe it’s all for the best, y’know?” Lovell shrugged noncommittally.

Again, Bryn narrowed her eyes— but before she slipped in a response, a rough hand clapped down onto Lovell’s bicep. He jumped, before peeking over his shoulder.

“Boy, I’m gonna need your help with somethin’. You’re gonna come with me now, alright?”

Lovell was met with the grizzled scowl of Higgins, archetypical Northern Dwarf and long-time Bnanom Brictom head of security. Lovell’d only had a chance to meet the guy once, during his orientation the week prior.

By the time Lovell thought to turn back to Bryn, the half-orc had already wandered off.

Higgins tightened his grip on Lovell’s arm, bruising the flesh beneath his fingertips. “C’mon, son, you gotta come with me, now.”

III. Ground floor

Higgins’ office was bare-walled and low-lit, with a blackout curtain preemptively drawn. Lovell let the oak door ease shut behind himself, while the Dwarf moved to lean back against his own desk, facing the volunteer.

Lovell shuffled his feet, stabilizing. “So,” he said, holding out the syllable. “Wha’dya need me for?”

“Well, lucky you, I’ve got an emergency chore for ya,” Higgins grumbled. He huffed, hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk.

“And, that is…?”

“Well,” Higgins began, not even attempting to feign any amount of confidence over the situation. Oh, how reassuring. “I’m gonna need ya to get some supplies for me. Can’t waste my own time diggin’ around for it right now, but I sure as hell can waste yours.” Higgins punctuated his request with an amused snort.

Lovell nodded, steadily. “Sure, okay. What do you need me to find, then?”

Higgins sighed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, boy. Weapons. Gotta keep our defenses up, should we need ‘em. And it ain’t as if we’re pullin’ out that stuff often.”

“Oh,” Lovell muttered. He cocked a brow, hands fiddling behind his own back. “And, why are there weapons in a community center, in the first place? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking, I guess.”

“N’aw, it’s a fair enough question.” Higgins batted a stout hand around, dismissive. “Don’t mean I’m gonna answer it for ya, though.”

Lovell couldn’t help but chuckle. Really, he should have seen that response coming.

“Just gotta find the damn basement key for ya, then I’ll send ya on your way. I’ll give ya a map, don’t worry— should show you where everything’s lyin’ around down there. Sound good, hm?”

Flashing his brightest and most saccharine grin, Lovell nodded. “Totally. Sure thing.”

IV. Basement

“Okay, what the absolute fuck were you thinking?”

Batting an especially ambitious spiderweb out of his face, Lovell huffed.

“I know you’re down here, asshole.” He had his hands planted on his hips, glaring into the darkness. “Still don’t know what the hell you’re actually up to right now, though,” Lovell proceeded to grumble, complaining to himself in a moment of intense self-pity.

From behind Lovell, a second voice seemed to flutter around in the air, materializing before it even had a source to anchor itself to. “Really, dear, I just wanted to surprise you at your brand-new job! No need to drag me to couple’s counseling over it. Goodness,” the voice drawled, deepening and growing clearer as it solidified within the space.

Lovell turned on his heels, cape whipping around, before it slowly settled back against his body. “You’re absurd, you know that? And a jackass. Do you, like, get off on fucking with me, or something? Actually, no, please don’t answer that. Lord, please.”

From behind a staggered tower of plastic bins packed with nativity decor, a taller man emerged. He swaggered closer to Lovell, who simply glared in greeting.

“Scarus,” Lovell said, matching the ever-present warlike glint in the other man’s eyes. “You do realize that my whole point in doing this was to relax for once, right? Sure, it’s inevitable at some point that I’m just gonna get tossed through another fucking dimensional portal, but for now, I just wanted to do something… simple. Until my stupid magic short-circuits and fucks me over again, at least.”

At that, Scarus deflated ever-so-slightly, but countered the change in posture with a roll of his eyes. “Okay, but like you said yourself: We both know good and well that you won’t be here for long, and it’s not as if I meant to be noticed. Truly, I didn’t. Really, what kind of military-grade community center has such drastic warding? I promise, I meant to slip in and say hi, and that’s it.” Scarus flicked a strand of blond hair away from his face.

Lovell scrubbed his eyes, the fight already draining from his bones. “Fine, well, whether you meant to cause it or not, there’s a total lockdown of the building. And now everyone’s totally panicking. All they wanted to do was go to a stupid, family-friendly Halloween party, Scarus. A Halloween party.”

Scarus raised his pointer finger maybe just a bit too proudly, smirking. “Ah, well, in my defense: You already know I’m not the biggest fan of Halloween, as it’s commonly celebrated. Really, it’s offensive, more than anything. Maybe I did the right thing by—”

“Don’t,” Lovell supplied. “Just, don’t. Don’t even start. Listen, if you just leave right now, maybe I won’t have to carry several dozen pounds of weapons up a flight of stairs. Okay? And, for god’s sake, don’t you dare tell me that I need the exercise, or something. I will absolutely burn you in your sleep tonight, and I will feel no remorse.” Okay, maybe Lovell would feel a tiny slice of remorse, although he would certainly do the burning, nonetheless. No question. Really, there was nothing quite like some third-degree retaliation during a lovers’ spat.

“Fine. If you’re only going to chastise me, then I have no issue with heading out.” Scarus stepped forward briefly, planting a kiss on Lovell’s cheek. Lovell felt himself warm at the gesture, until, wait, no—

“Scarus… what the hell did you just do to me?”

Scarus shrugged. “Protecting myself,” he replied. “I have no intention of being set on fire tonight. Of course, feel free to use non-draconic flames instead. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly equipped to handle some bodily arson sans childish magic, no issue at all.” He snickered, pulling Lovell into a quick hug. “Alright, my fire-breathing little darling. I’ll just be leaving, then. I’ll have dinner waiting for you, alright?”

“Oh, you better, bastard.”

#my writing #my post

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inmyblindspot · 7 years

Text

thankful (jane/kurt fanfic)

A/N: @blindspotlove asked for a Jeller & team Thanksgiving fic and, well...this is what I came up with! Hope you like it!

thankful

Kurt was grumpy.

Jane often teased him about being grumpy and he always insisted that he wasn’t. But in this moment, he knew she was right.

He was really fucking grumpy.

His foul mood came mostly from the fact than an hour earlier, he and Jane had been in their bed, naked, with nowhere they needed to be for an entire day, for the first time in 26 days. But somehow, he found himself standing in Patterson’s kitchen, showing her how to properly stuff and cook a turkey, and he had no idea where Jane was.

They’d had no plans for Thanksgiving. He had purposefully made them no plans. They had been working nonstop for the past month and all he wanted for this holiday – their first together since they had gotten married – was to spend it with his wife. Especially after Allie had been called into work at the last minute and had to cancel hers and Bethany’s trip to New York.

Everything had been going according to plan. She had woken him up that morning with fresh coffee, crawling back into bed with him, where he had quickly unbuttoned the shirt of his she had pulled on. He’d occupied himself with kissing a trail down her body, her body sinking further and further into their mattress as his lips traveled across her hipbone, until her phone had started buzzing on the nightstand.

He had implored her to ignore it, swirling his tongue in her belly button as his hands traveled up her sides, but she’d squirmed away from him, gently kicking him in the ribs as she reached for her phone.

He’d flopped back in bed as he half-listened to her side of the conversation, but before he knew it, she was getting out of bed and getting dressed, tossing his jeans towards him, as she explained that Patterson had “a turkey emergency.”

“So she called a vegan?” he mused as he tossed his jeans back at her and reached for her wrist. Jane rolled her eyes and threaded her fingers through his, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before she pushed his jeans against his chest.

“Come on, she asked for our help, what was I supposed to say? Sorry, we’re too busy having sex?” she asked as she made her way into the bathroom.

“Yes!” he called out as he grudgingly stood up, pulling his jeans on. “That is exactly what you were supposed to say.”

She shot him a look from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth and he grinned as he walked towards her, purposefully leaving his jeans unbuttoned and slung low on his hips, hoping she would soon be pulling them off again.

“Come on,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist as he dropped his lips to the nape of her neck. “Patterson can figure out her turkey, she doesn’t need us,” he whispered as his fingers moved to the button on her jeans.

But she shook her head, leaning forward to rinse out her mouth, before she turned around and looped her arms around his neck.

“One hour,” she promised him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Then the day is ours. I’ll make it up to you when we get back, I promise.”

She picked up his toothbrush and handed it to him, patting his chest as she walked out into the hallway.

“You better,” he grumbled to himself as he reached for the toothpaste, shaking his head.

Now, it was an hour later, and not only was he still dealing with Patterson’s “turkey emergency,” which was only an emergency in that she had no idea how to cook one, but Jane had disappeared with Tasha the moment they’d walked in the door, whisked away to deal with a “pie emergency.”

He’d never seen so many Thanksgiving “emergencies” in his life.

He pulled out his phone and typed in a message to Jane.

Where are you?

As Patterson mused to herself about whether she should use sage or thyme for her stuffing, Kurt stared at his phone, waiting for Jane’s response.

Getting the pies.

Kurt sighed and was about to put away his phone when it buzzed with another message.

In the Hamptons.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he quickly punched at the button to call Jane, holding his phone up to his ear.

“The Hamptons?!” he cried as he heard her pick up, not waiting for her to even say “hello.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said and he could picture her biting her lip. “I had no idea that’s where they were. But apparently this bakery makes the pies that are Tasha’s grandfather’s favorite and she promised her grandmother she would bring them.”

“Why the hell does she need you for that?” Kurt asked, pacing back and forth in Patterson’s living room. “Jane, that’s a two-hour drive each way.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she said again and he could hear her getting upset.

He sighed, taking a deep breath. The only thing that would make this day worse was if they ended up in a fight and really, he had nothing to be mad at her about. It was Patterson and Tasha who were promptly ruining their day and all Jane had done was try to be a good friend.

“It’s OK,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

“I love you,” she said quietly and he smiled, holding his phone a little closer against his cheek.

“I love you,” he told her and they were both quiet for a moment.

He sighed again, glancing over at Patterson, who was currently holding her raw turkey by the legs over her sink as she peered down into the cavity.

“OK, you get the pies, I’ll work on the turkey with Patterson,” he said.

“Sounds good,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the way back,” she offered and he nodded, holding back a laugh as Patterson dropped her turkey in the sink.

“Drive safe,” he said before hanging up the phone and tucking it into his pocket.

“Alright Patterson, step aside. Watch and learn,” he said as he walked towards the kitchen.

The next couple of hours went by quickly and, before long, the smell of their turkey was wafting through Patterson’s apartment. Kurt was just whisking up an orange and bourbon glaze, figuring he might as well go all out, when his phone buzzed with a text from Jane.

On the way back.

He smiled and returned his attention to the stove, stirring as his glaze started bubbling.

“Hey Weller, thanks again for doing this,” Patterson said from her seat at the counter, where she was snapping the ends off a pile of green beans. “I guess I bit off a little more than I could chew,” she said sheepishly and Kurt chuckled, moving the glaze to the counter so it could cool.

“It’s fine,” he said, reaching over and taking a handful of green beans for him to trim. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t gotten at least a little bit of satisfaction from being able to school Patterson in something. “Who are you cooking this all for, anyways?”

“Just some friends from my Wizardville days,” she said with a shrug. “A few of them came out east for the holiday.”

He nodded as he walked over to the oven and pulled out the turkey, brushing his glaze over the top, before returning it to the oven.

“Do this every half hour or so,” he explained, placing the pot with the glaze back on the counter, and Patterson nodded, glancing at her watch for the time.

After trimming the green beans, they moved on to peeling potatoes, with Kurt taking the lead on making mashed potatoes. As they stood side by side at the stove, Kurt glanced over at Patterson, clearing his throat.

“So...tell me about this Wizardville thing,” he mumbled and she laughed, nudging him in the ribs.

“I knew you’d cave eventually!” she exclaimed and he raised an eyebrow at her before returning his attention to the pot of potatoes. “I mean...these potatoes look delicious,” she stammered and he chuckled, giving her a small nod.

“That’s better,” he mumbled.

Once they had finished the potatoes, they sat together at the counter, where Patterson walked Kurt through the basics of Wizardville, installing it on his phone and taking him through the first few quests.

Before long, he was playing on his own, biting his lip in concentration as he moved through the game.

“This thing is addictive,” he muttered and she laughed, nodding her head as she got up to glaze the turkey.

“Thank you,” she said with a grin and he shook his head, returning his attention to the game.

He’d just finished the sixth quest when the door swung open and Tasha walked in with three pie boxes in her arms. Kurt glanced behind her but saw no one following.

“Where’s Jane?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I dropped her off at your place,” she said before setting the pie boxes down on the counter. “One pumpkin pie for you,” she said to Patterson, handing her the top box. “And a pumpkin and a cranberry for my Abuelo.”

Kurt shook his head as he stood up and collected his coat from the back of the couch.

“Those pies better be lined with liquid gold to be worth driving to the Hamptons for them,” he said with a scowl. Tasha shrugged innocently as she wandered into the kitchen, inhaling the smells that Kurt and Patterson had cooked up.

“Anything for my Abuelo,” she said before peeking into the oven. “Guys, this all looks and smells amazing.”

Patterson nodded, looking gratefully over at Kurt as he walked to the door, not bothering to stick around for the praise.

“Thank you!” she yelled after him and he waved over his shoulder as he made his way out.

He didn’t hear their giggles as he closed the door behind him.

It was a short drive to their apartment and within fifteen minutes, he was stepping off the elevator on their floor. He opened the door and was about to call out to Jane when all of a sudden, he felt something crash into his torso.

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

He looked up and saw Sarah standing in his living room, and looked down to see the top of Sawyer’s head pressed against his middle as he hugged him tight.

“Surprise, Uncle Kurt!” he called, squeezing him tight in another hug.

Kurt gaped at them as he reached down and hugged Sawyer back, his jaw dropping as he looked up at Sarah.

“I don’t...how did...when...I thought you guys were staying out west?” he finally spat out, giving Sawyer’s shoulders a squeeze before he stepped forward and wrapped Sarah up in a hug.

“We were,” she said, hugging him back before looking up at him. “But then your lovely wife sent us two tickets,” she said with a grin and Kurt’s jaw dropped further.

“But...when?” he asked, looking around the apartment for Jane. “And where is she?”

Before Sarah could answer, he heard his name called out from behind him and he whipped around, knowing that voice anywhere.

“Dada! Dada dada dada!”

He looked to the doorway, where his daughter was taking wobbly steps as quick as her little legs would take her, running towards him.

He dropped down to his knees, opening his arms as she ran into them, holding her close to his chest. He looked up, barely able to see Jane walking through the doorway as his eyes filled with tears.

“Dada!” Bethany squealed as Kurt gently pulled her back from his chest. She reached out and placed her palms against his cheeks, giggling as his beard tickled her fingers.

“Hi baby girl,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing kisses to her cheeks. “How did you get here?” he asked, laughing as he stood up and swung her onto his hip. “I thought mama had to work?” he said, glancing up at Jane. “I don’t understand?” he said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief.

Jane smiled and walked towards them, wrapping her arm around Sawyer’s shoulder as the five of them met in the middle of the room.

“Well,” she started, taking a deep breath as Sarah reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Today is about giving thanks for what we have. And what I am most thankful for is you and our family,” she said as she reached up and gently tickled Bethany’s tummy, all of them laughing as she squirmed in Kurt’s arms. “And I wanted to have our family together on this day.”

Kurt took a deep breath and hugged Bethany close, reaching across with his other hand to brush his fingers against Jane’s cheek.

“I still don’t understand how she got here,” he said with a laugh and Jane chuckled, shrugging her shoulders.

“I called Connor yesterday and asked if he would fly her to Chicago this morning. I flew there to meet them and brought her the rest of the way,” she said, a sheepish smile forming on her lips as Kurt’s jaw dropped.

“Wait...you flew to Chicago and back...today?!” he exclaimed and she laughed as she nodded, tickling Bethany’s tummy again. “But...the pies,” he stammered. “I saw the pies.”

Jane and Sarah laughed and Sawyer ran over to the kitchen, picking up a pie box.

“Tasha gave us one too!” he exclaimed. “Apple, my favorite!”

Kurt nodded dumbly as he handed Bethany to Sarah and ran his hands over his face, his mind going a mile a minute. Sarah carried Bethany over towards the window, the two of them looking out at the city view together.

Jane reached over and took Kurt’s hands, holding them against her chest as she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Tasha bought the pies this morning in Brooklyn,” she explained, giving his hands a squeeze. “And then she picked Sarah and Sawyer up at the airport and brought them back here.”

Kurt nodded again, looking around at all of them, still not quite believing his eyes.

“And Patterson’s turkey dinner?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and Jane laughed, nodding as she bit her lip.

“That’s for us,” she said, her smile growing. “They’re going to bring it over in a couple of hours and then Patterson’s going with Tasha to her family’s dinner. It was the only way I could think of to keep you occupied and for us to end up with a proper meal,” she added with a laugh.

Kurt grinned and then was silent for a few moments, looking over to the window where Bethany was giggling in Sarah’s arms, and then over at Sawyer who was poking around in the kitchen, and then back at his wife who was beaming up at him.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” he said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief as he cupped her face in his hands. “You are the most incredible thing to ever happen to me, you know that?” he murmured, leaning down as he brushed his lips against hers.

Jane wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning into him as she kissed him back before tilting her head back to smile up at him.

“Happy thanksgiving, my love.”

#blindspot #jeller #blindspot fanfic #writing: mine

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darnloveablecharacters · 7 years

Text

Prove Me Wrong, Part Fifteen: I Will Try

Series Summary: Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!

Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist

Chapter Notes: Guess who FINALLY is updating! THIS WRITER!! lol, sorry y’all, it’s been an absolutely insane month. But here you go! I had this one written, and I’m kind of sad that I didn’t post it before all the craziness... but here you go!

Warnings for this chapter: Talk of violence/death

Translations: Unalê - My tracker (khuzdul)

Tagged: @imaginesreblogged @chevycastiel1967

Caithwistë walked absentmindedly back to her room for the evening. She had spent the entire day with Bilbo, showing him around the Last Homely House. It had been easy for her to be around him, and he had listened intently to the history that she had to offer about the valley. She had even convinced some of the elves to gift him with some seeds to take home and plant in his own garden. His face lit up like a child’s when he received his gift, and had pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

Caithwistë, smiling at her new memories, turned into the hallway that led to the bedrooms and came to an abrupt halt as she came face to face with Thorin.

His eyes were wide, as if she had startled him by suddenly appearing. He took a step back, and his eyes flicked down her body taking in her attire. “Caithwistë.” He said in a strangled voice, eyes finally reaching hers again.

“Thorin.” She acknowledged with a quick nod. “I apologize, I was not paying attention to where I was walking.” She gave him a polite curtsy, then moved to walk around him. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She had nearly passed him when she felt his hand grip her arm tightly. “Wait, please.”

She glanced down at his hand on her arm, then raised her eyebrows at him. “Yes Thorin?” She said breathlessly.

He gave her a calculating look before sighing, and releasing her arm. “Will you speak with me?” He asked, catching her off guard.”

Caithwistë searched his eyes, and found a strange mixture of sadness and hope. She glanced toward her bedroom longingly, and sighed in defeat. “Yes. This way.” She said, gesturing to a vacated balcony.

Thorin followed her to the balcony, remaining silent as he peered over the edge. She stood next to him, and gazed over the valley that was bathed in the warm glow of the sunset. “You’re angry with me.” Thorin said, breaking the silence.

Caithwistë sighed, and kept her eyes forward. She was not prepared to have this conversation with him. Not yet. She felt Thorin’s eyes fall on her curiously, but she pressed her lips together unwilling to answer.

“I thought as much.” He said sadly. “Balin spoke to me of the words you had with the Company this morning. You think we are being unfair with these Elves.” Caithwistë bit down on her tongue to stop herself from replying with her anger, but Thorin continued. “You are correct to think this of us.” He said, so quietly that she almost missed it.

She glanced at him in shock. “I am?” She asked uncertainly.

Thorin nodded. “Aye.” He turned his focus back to the setting sun as he thought about his next words. “When the dragon destroyed my home, the Elves abandoned us.” He began. She could hear his own anger laced in every word as he spoke. “They could have been the difference, and that day could have been a victory. But, Thranduil refused to risk the lives of his army for us. Since that day, I have hated them. Not just those who had pledged allegiance to us so long ago, but all of the Elves.” He gazed back at Caithwistë, imploring her to understand.

“By your own logic, I should hate all dwarves.” Caithwistë muttered without thinking.

Thorin looked at Caithwistë curiously. “What do you mean?” He demanded.

Caithwistë’s eyes flicked to Thorin in fear, and she began to back away from the balcony. “I should not have said anything, I apologize.” She bowed her head and turned to leave.

“Please.” Thorin pleaded, stopping her in her tracks. Caithwistë slowly turned to face him again, and was met with his repentant eyes. “What happened?” He asked quietly.

Caithwistë sighed. “It’s not a pleasant story. You don’t need to hear it, it’s in the past.”

“Tell me anyway.” Thorin said, taking a tentative step closer.

Caithwistë searched Thorin’s eyes for a ruse, but all she found was his burning curiosity. She nodded, and he seemed to relax. She sat on a bench chewing on her lip, as she decided how much of her story she could tell without giving herself away. “When I was young,” she began slowly, “my family was always on the move. We were very poor, and my father took work anywhere he could to provide for us. We traveled from town to town, but it never lasted long before we would be driven away.”

Thorin sat on the bench next to her as she took a deep breath, then continued. “Eventually, we came across a dwarven colony. We were starving, and my father begged them for help. They turned us away at the gate without even giving us a chance.” She said, feeling her old anger rising up in her. “It was many years later when we encountered a group of dwarves from the same colony.”

Caithwistë curled her hands into fists as the memory of that day flowed through her. The anger seemed fresh, as if it hadn’t been over three-hundred years. Thorin was watching her with sadness is his eyes as she continued. “My father made us hide in the trees, my mother and I. It was as if he knew what would come next.”

A tear trickled out of Caithwistë’s eye, and Thorin rested his hand gently on her clenched fists. “We heard them arguing. I didn’t understand what was happening. My mother had tried to cover my eyes, but I fought her and I saw them…” She choked, and Thorin tightened his grip on her hands. “They killed him Thorin.” She finally managed. “They killed him, because he made a choice in life they didn’t agree with.”

“Caithwistë…” Thorin breathed.

“My mother couldn’t go on after that. She was completely heartbroken.” Caithwistë was glaring at a spot on the ground, trying to control her emotions as she spoke. “That’s when Mithrandir arrived. He brought me here, and Elrond took me in.”

Caithwistë finally looked at Thorin. He was watching her with a pained look. “It was the Elves that sheltered me.” She said fiercely, and Thorin looked down in shame.

“I would have killed them.” He muttered angrily. “Dwarf or no, I would have killed them had I known.”

“You won’t have that chance.” She said bitterly.

Thorin glanced back at her with raised eyebrows. “No?”

Caithwistë’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I sought them out, after I left Imladris. It took many years, but I finally found them. They will never harm another soul.” She finished, watching Thorin’s reaction.

He nodded solemnly, then smirked. “Remind me never to truly anger you.”

Caithwistë smiled, despite herself and looked toward the edge of the balcony. The sun had nearly set now, and the valley was bathed in an orange glow.

“Perhaps you are right.” Thorin mused after a few moments of silence. He pulled her hand out of her lap, and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Caithwistë’s breath hitched at the contact, and she gazed back at him. “About what?”

Thorin’s eyes twinkled as he answered. “You probably should hate dwarves.”

Caithwistë laughed. “I probably should. But I never met another dwarf after that, until the day we met in Bree.”

Thorin nodded, grinning mischievously. “Aye, the day you refused to aid this quest.”

“The same.” Caithwistë said, nudging him playfully.

Thorin chuckled. “I’m glad you did though.” He said, growing serious again. “You seem to fit well with the Company, and they have grown very fond of you.” He sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment. “I will try.” He said eventually, opening his eyes again. He gazed at her affectionately.

Caithwistë’s heart skipped a beat. “What will you try?”

“I will try to see things as you do. I will try, to be less judgmental of these Elves that have helped us.” He smirked. “I make no promises though.”

Caithwistë smiled warmly. “That’s all I can ask of you. Thank you Thorin.”

Thorin’s lips parted, and something flashed across his eyes that Caithwistë had never seen before. He began to lean forward slowly, never taking his eyes off her. Caithwistë’s heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest as he leaned into her. He stopped just as he reached her, silently asking for permission.

Caithwistë granted Thorin’s unspoken request by closing her eyes, and softly pressing her lips against his. As soon as their lips touched, Caithwistë felt a warmth spreading through her like she had never felt before. It was as if the world had stopped spinning, and all that was left was them in this moment. His lips were softer than she could have ever imagined as they moved tentatively with hers. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he let out a soft groan against her mouth.

Thorin pulled away from the kiss with a shaky breath and smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Unalê.” He muttered softly, and tightened his grip on her hand that he was clinging onto. “Thank you for telling me.” He said after a few moments of content silence.

“Thank you for listening.” She said, truly grateful.

Thorin nodded, then leaned back. “It’s getting late. Allow me to escort you to your room?”

“I would be honored, Master Dwarf.” Caithwistë said with a giggle.

Thorin smirked as he stood, offering his arm to her. Caithwistë stood and slipped her arm into his, and they walked silently toward her bedroom. They stopped at her door, and Thorin placed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Good night, Unalê.”

“Good night, Thorin.” She said, and slipped into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, and listened as Thorin’s footsteps faded.

When he was gone, she crossed the room and laid on her bed in a daze, thinking about what had just transpired. Thorin called her Unalê, just as he had in her dreams. The thought brought her warmth, and simultaneously terrified her. She was very fond of Thorin, but he still did not know what she was. He promised that he would try, but would that promise hold true when he found out about her? She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, frustrated. Not too long ago, her decision to leave the Company had seemed easy. Now, she wasn’t sure.

“What am I going to do?” She muttered to her pillows as she drifted to sleep.

#the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x ofc #thorin imagine

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cbacofficial · 7 years

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Connected by a Cable [Chapter Three]

"I will say that much of this game relies on the community. Yet not many may like the open world Player Versus Player activities that can happen at any moment. It could hinder or cause you to leave the game completely. But don't fear. You can always log back in after you take a break. It's not like the characters will die."

Over the next two days, Hioshi and Yukara leveled more and more. Now reaching level Thirty Eight the two thought it was finally time to go and find the capital city. Mainly to purchase a mount for Yukara to ride on. They took a carriage system to make the trip automated but that didn't stop Yukara from sight seeing with Hioshi. Eager to see the capital, Yukara pointed out various landmarks. It also served as a good break to reflect on these few days of leveling they performed. Hioshi normally brushed the leveling experienced aside just to get to the end but in this game, he hadn't felt this kind of excitement and wonder since he was a teenager. It must of been the Player Characters being so real in their emotions and responses. The cart turned and went along the path. Passing by lower level characters and new ones that just started the game after the initial launch. It was weird seeing the Player Characters wave at passing carts but then again, Yukara waved back as well. Almost like there was a real sense of an internal community. But the trip would finally end after some time. What would of felt like Seven Minutes to Hioshi felt more like twenty in that short time traveling. The cart stopped outside of the large imposing stone wall. Taller than anyone could see over. Spires and battlements for protection. The wall stretched far and around. Along the walls were crystals at every certain length for a light source. The gate was large enough to allow a mass exodus of people at once, and thankfully the gates were open. They past the guards that welcomed them to the city. "Welcome to The Palaxian City!" Yukara walked deeper past the gates. The sounds she heard as well as Hioshi indicated that there were a lot of people...and we are not talking like fifty of a hundred. We speak of nearly thousands of people! The stretch of the entrance led to a high rise with two sets of stairs that went down to the ground floor. From this view, Yukara lit up with wonder...and so did Hioshi. The City was sectioned off in three wings. One designated for Trading and vendors. Most player characters set up their shops at the plots. Some even managed to buy the highest selling type of trade post, a cart that showed their favorite mount at the reins and their character cleverly inside the carriage. While others defaulted to the rug underneath or a stall. The Computer Characters had their own shops as well and were seen as less data in recent discoveries and more like real inhabitants. Dialogue was not pre-written. It was an honest to god real response. The coloration of the banners that hung over the district made it stand out the most. Over on the opposing side was the Tradecrafts and professions as well as trainers for classes. From this view, Yukara noticed how the Player Characters were in their own type of attire. Whether it be using the giant anvil at the forge or the various looms at the tailor's guild, they had all the professions there! Plus, it was where they had to go to learn how to ride a mount. Yet Yukara wasn't ready to just bolt over. She noticed the third district between them and while it stretched on, it contained the Inns, miscellaneous shops for reagents and even food. A restaurant or two were also noticeable. In the center of it all, a large fountain that towered over the stalls stood proudly. A statue of the supposed goddess named Mahna and her hands opened to let loose the water that trickled down to the base. Finally, far in the distance from where Yukara stood was the castle. A giant construction of various towers that housed the important figures in this world. Among them was the Queen. Takara Waterfrost. But that place was locked to players until a certain quest was fulfilled...which none have realized yet. This all made Hioshi just soak it all in. It was a wonder to see this. Yukara then took off on her own through the middle district. "H-hey! We need to go get your mount!" he tried reasoning with the overexcited Yukara as she merely ignored him. Giggling along as she saw the people she past. The Inns were packed with players either exchanging stories or looking for certain people to do dungeons or other activities and events. She approached a vendor and on her own whim, bought a cheap meal to eat as she walked. Hioshi yelled at her again. "Come on now! We need to save that money to get your mount." to which she pouted "Okay...but after, I want to explore the city." Hioshi guided Yukara to the Tradecraft District and started looking for the stablemaster and pens. They past by the huts that showed the other characters toiling away at their crafts, perfecting their skills like Alchemy and Enchanting weapons. It wasn't until they reached the pen did they get a warm welcome by the tutor of riding. "Well hey there, young one. You looking to learn how to ride a mount?" the man asked as Yukara nodded. "Oh yes! Is it okay if I pick my mount out first?" she smiled at him to ensure that her cute look could get away with anything. "Well...I guess I could let you look around. We got all the basics!" The man showed her to a part of the stables where various animals were kept and ready to be sold in mass. Three colored horses, two kinds of ostrich looking mounts, a large wolf, a bear and what may of been the very gem that caught Yukara's shining eyes. "BY MAHNA'S LIGHT, A TURTLE!" Immediately she latched onto the shelled reptile as large as a horse itself, slowly gnawing and chewing on grass. Hioshi was...conflicted. "A turtle? Y-you sure you don't want a horse or even a wolf?" sure she seemed to enjoy it but the price- "That will be One hundred, Fifty Thousand G.E.M!" Yukara opened her bag and found their funds. One Hundred, Twenty Thousand G.E.M only. She was far too short to buy the mount. And training alone was over a thousand. Yukara's heart sank. She looked to the turtle again then at her money. Begging for a miracle in her mind. Hioshi just reclined and said "Looks like we should buy that horse now. It's cheap and reliable." but Yukara tried something unheard of by any player. She turned on a sad look, put fake tears on and asked the tutor "Mister...I-i would really love..to ride a turtle...C-can't I have it for...One Hundred Thousand please?" she sniffled to add into her lie as the Tutor was buying into it. Apparently even NPCs can be haggled. "What? But...I mean-Oh. What's the harm? I'll sell it for Seventy Five." with a smile on her face, Yukara instantly learned how to ride the mount and appeared on top of the large turtle. The saddle was secure enough despite the turtle's running speed and yet she felt like a god. "ONWARD LANCELOT!" she shouted and decided to ride around on her turtle. She was definitely as human as many of us. Enjoying the gentle breeze as her turtle carried her to her next destination. All this happened as Hioshi just laughed at how Yukara was acting. When was the last time he laughed at all? After enough time running about, Yukara approached the central fountain where she noticed a group of characters gathering about. Hioshi was curious about the group and approached the mass gathering. Each character, from Dwarf to Raptear and all varying classes were in the level range of Thirty Five to Forty Two. There was one who stood among the rest on top of the fountain's edge as he was in the middle of some kind of long winded speech. "...So anyone of you willing to help take out this threat?" the human warrior player called out. Yukara did not know what he was talking about so she asked him openly "What threat? I just got here?" to which he told her "There is a Player at level Forty Eight preventing us from finishing a quest in the Salium Desert. He keeps killing us!" this of course made Hioshi remember a time in the past. He was like any noob with his friend when all of a sudden they were repeatedly killed by the opposing faction who was far too high in level for the intended zone and was being quite rude about it. Only when a person of equal level came about to their aid did they get some peace in leveling. This made Hioshi's blood boil inside. It's one thing to openly fight players in a game with equal footing, but it's not fair to those who can't even harm them back. Let alone mining their own business. Hioshi then typed out a message. Unlike in most MMO games, typing anything into the game would come through your character. In this it comes from the actual controller. As such... [Yukara's Master]: "We can take care of him. Our guild is skilled in handling issues like this." Such words coming from the sphere of light over Yukara's shoulder gave hope to both the players and their characters. Yet Yukara was nervous...Really nervous. More so at the idea of fighting other player characters. Yukara and Hioshi called his guild to meet outside the gates of the capital city and discuss things over the communication channel. Their levels ranged from Thirty Eight to Forty Five. Yet someone already at Forty Eight would prove to be quite the struggle. ---- They would make their way to the Salium Desert by traveling along the southern road out of the city. The town there was called Owai. A few buildings overlooked the land with an oasis in the center. In the distance further south lay the Ruins of an ancient civilization said to belong to the Children of Mahna.. The players said the Ganker waited among the ruins where the ending quest line had one face off against the Guardian of the Temple. Later to set up for the first raid dungeon know as the 'Vault of Origin'. Yukara and the guild discussed the plan in town. "Alright...so the plan is to gang up on him as soon as he appears...but if we do it too fast the Ganker will most likely run off before we even get a few hits in. so we need bait." Nina and Zack thought among the group. They had other low level characters keep watch while they examined the map. It wasn't until Kael raised a hand. "I nominate myself! I have a spell to make myself immune for five second-" but then his owner interrupted. "That is a noble sacrifice, Kael...but you are a match for this Ganker. Not to mention you can heal yourself. No it has to be an easy target...someone low level...and..." his voice faded and the group looked to Hioshi and Yukara. "M-me!?" Yukara shouted in fright. Hioshi saw it coming. With a sigh he added on "You are a good candidate for bait. We have no self heal but we do have Glacier Stone. Ten seconds is how long it lasts and that's plenty of time." They would discuss the plan further in detail before the night rolled around. While their characters were safe in town from any PVP activity after their Masters logged off, it didn't mean they were inactive. The group treated the leveling players at the Inn with free meals and drinks to boost their stats for the next day. Yukara on the other hand decided to head upstairs and enter one of the rooms they had available. Kael noticed this and figured to bring her a meal. He asked the NPC for a special meal just for her... He approached the room with the food in hand and knocked on the door. "Yukara? I brought your meal." He said in a soft voice. Unlike his normal show off tone. After hearing her accept his invitational knock, he opened the door to see her looking out the window at the cloudless night sky. He sat the meal down on the table and tried approaching her. "...Are you okay?" he asked. Yukara nodded "I am. The idea of acting as bait is new to me." but her frown said it all. She was nervous. "Well...don't worry. I am sure your master knows what he is doing." he nudged the meal over to Yukara, letting her smell the aroma. "Is that...Thunderserpent Stew And Globerry Wine?" Her eyes widen at the dish. A stew warm and hearty in a light yellow broth and the wine provided was a blue tint that glowed a warm color. "B-but...How did you-" she stopped as Kael raised his arm up. Showing that he sold his bracer gear. with a grin he said "We may not be able to grind or obtain items from monsters on our own but that doesn't mean we can't sell our own items off. Now eat up. You will need every stat boost you can." explaining as Yukara felt guilty. The food in question were considered the second best meal in the game for her class, the wine was just for roleplaying flavor but the taste was divine to the Player Characters. "T-thank you Kael! She happily stated, enjoying the meal before him. "Tastes so good!" her sigh of enjoyment came through. Kael simply chuckled at her reaction. "Take it easy. We got all night." he sat there, watching her eat. She looked up from her dish and offered a spoonful. "Do you want some?" to which Kael blushed a little. "Uhh...N-no thanks. You should enjoy it. Plus I already ate earlier with the rest." When the meal was done, Yukara felt content as she laid on the bed. A smile across her face. "That was very filling..." she rolled on the bed back and forth as Kael was about to leave. "Get some rest. I'm sure Nina would not be happy if you were not aware. Hioshi is very lucky to have you." he let it hang, making Yukara blush and chuckle. "I'm just glad I got a smart and kind master. Like I was made for Hioshi." she let that comment out as she went to bed. It was during this night that Kael noticed his companions drunk and or passed out. One of them was Nina snoring on the table. Kael eased Nina up and carried her with care to her room. "Come on Guild Master...You can't be this indecent. No one will take you seriously..." ---- Come morning the group heard about more people being ganked by this player character. Yukara had to set out on her own while her companions camped over far away from sight. It would be risky and they would have to move in the moment the ganker showed up. She pulled up to the ruins where the person was and started with killing a few extra monsters to pretend she wasn't aware. Hioshi instructed her along the way. "Remember Yukara...don't look around. Just be yourself." Yukara waited and waited...being patient and trying her best to hold it together. Being bait was not the easiest job in the world. Hioshi had to remind her again that if they do not do things right, the plan would fail. The pressure was getting to Yukara. She wanted to cast a spell to uncover the ganker from hiding. Then it happened! A strike from behind and the high level ganker showed herself. One strike from the shadows already put Yukara at half her health. She had to bite through the pain and press on. Using a spell to teleport a few yards away and retaliating with a quick fireblast. Being of a higher level, It wouldn't be nearly as effective as other spells. But it was not their goal. She continued with her rotation of fireball or blast and running away. Mostly to gain distance and be a 'challenge' rather than sitting and taking it. The ganker charged forth through the barrage as Hioshi helped guide Yukara's spells. "Now!" he said, making Yukara cast an Arcane Chain spell and rooting the rogue to the ground for a few seconds. Yukara used this to gain more distance but that is when Hioshi noticed what Yukara didn't see. She broke the chains early! "Yukara, the chains!" he shouted to Yukara as she turned to see her dashing forward. Attempting to close the gap. And upon catching up she sunk her blades into Yukara, dealing more damage to her health but also restricting her spellcasting for five seconds. They only had enough health to survive two hits. The plan was getting rocky... That is until the Ganker approached Yukara, grabbed her by the wrist and with her hand firmly around Yukara's neck she placed her back against a pillar from the ruins. She then finally said something. "You look quite adorable...It's a shame that my master wants your character dead. You do remind her of someone she hates..." her smiled under the veil as she raised a blade. There was no time to cast the Glacier Stone ability. Hioshi sat there, watching it happen. Helpless to seeing this unfold. Sure she could easily respawn after but it was like watching a friend die before your eyes unlike other games. "Yukara. Hold on, please..." It was at that point that Yukara used a spell just as it came up to teleport a few feet away before the blade struck her. From there, she cast her Glacier Stone in the nick of time when the ganker ran at her. Her blade deflecting off as she noticed Yukara's smile under the ice. Hioshi finally looked at the screen and was astounded by how Yukara managed to get the block up in time. That is when he heard his friends... "STRIKE!" and his group descended upon the Ganker, pinning her down and all taking turns attacking the high level player. Widdling her health down. The numbers were clearly too much and at her last amount of health, the Ganker vanished in a cloud of smoke. When her ice spell wore off, Yukara collapsed on the ground despite narrowly avoiding a player death. She sighed and heaved in a few breaths before being helped up onto her feet by Kael. "You did amazing, Yukara." As they went to comfort and celebrate the minor victory, a few other characters came out and looked around for any sign. "I-is she gone?" one asked before Nina replied in a loud voice. "The ganker is gone for now. If she comes back, call on us again. The New Frontier Guild. We are also looking for fresh or old players to join our raiding ranks. Apply on our website!" not wasting time to recruit, she and her controller were more than willing to actively recruit all kinds of players. This rejuvenated the Player characters but also those controlling them. Yukara was just glad it was done... But that Ganker said that Yukara was familiar to her controller?

#cbac #chapter #connected by a cable #story #anime #manga #writing #fantasy #sci-fi #fiction #computers #games #video games #mmo #online game

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snow-slayer · 7 years

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Never Better - Samurai Jack Fanfiction

Here’s a completed first draft (It doesn’t follow the season 5 of Samurai Jack because I started writing after episode 3 aired).

Summary: Most robots he fought stayed dead once they were cleaved in half. Now Jack is faced with a choice: get as far away as he could from the assassin or team up with Scaramouche and Neliah, the woman who rebuilt Scaramouche, to destroy the largest beetle drone factor in the area, assuming they can find it.

“Never Better”

“Stand down.” The robot merely laughed at the threat. Trying to command the eight foot tall assassin was a woman hardly five feet tall and weaponless as far as Jack could tell. She hardly seemed concerned, standing with both gloved hands tucked casually into her pockets.

“Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you, Sammy baby? I’m not so easy to kill. Now I’ve got a second chance and I’ve never been better, babe!”

“I said stand down,” the woman repeated flatly.

“Relax, babe. I can take him.” He drew the sword on his back, giving it a few test swings as Jack drew his gun, aiming it at the center of Scaramouche’s chest. Suddenly, the robot grabbed his head, the sword falling harmlessly to the ground, followed shortly by the robot himself.

“Uhh, babe! Stop!” he moaned out, rolling to his side and bringing his knees up to his chest. Jack cast a glance at the woman. He saw her left hand move slightly within the confines of her pocket. Slowly, the robot regained his composure, dragging back to his feet. He sheathed his sword and shook his head.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. We’re still … working things out.” Scaramouche had retreated, still caressing his head with one hand as he muttered under his breath. “The name’s Neliah.”

“Jack.” He cast an eye around their campsite. He had seen their campfire as he was traveling, leaving his bike to investigate on foot. As he had drawn near, he heard the familiar voice of Scaramouche, whom he thought thoroughly destroyed.

“Nice to meet you in person. Only heard terrible things about you, of course.” She shuffled closer to the campfire, rotating the meat on the spit.

“Why don’t you ask him to stay, babe? I’m sure he’d love to hear all the things you’ve done. Like all the people you’ve hurt and all the weapons you’ve helped make. Makes me look like a kitten, babe.”

“You are welcome to share some of our rations, if you’d like.” Jack accepted the invitation, if only out of fear the robot would get out of hand. He took a seat several feet away from Neliah, listening to the fat sizzle on the plump rodent cooking.

“I needed fire power. That’s why I put him back together, if you were wondering.” Jack cast another glance towards the robot who had begun pacing by the tent.

“Won’t let me kill anything, Sammy baby. Can’t see why she wants to torment me.” He tapped his head and forced a look of mock sadness.

“I added a few safety precautions until I can do a full reboot and remove the assassin program.”

“Nothing to remove, babe. I was made this way.”

“What are you planning?” Jack’s hand inched towards his gun as Scaramouche finally meandered closer to the fire.

“I’m tracking the beetle drones manufacturing plants. The largest one is said to be out this way.” She pointed towards the east. “I only have a general location. We’re going to destroy it to slow down production in addition to destroying their newest weapon creation. There have been rumors circulating that there’s a new mind controlling device in production which could potentially work on robots and humans. If it gets completed, that will give Aku or anyone who gets there hand on it unlimited soldiers. They’ll be soulless shells that follow his every whim.”

“Wouldn’t you know, babe? Must have been fun making the prototype,” Scaramouche laid on his chest, feeding anything that would burn into the fire.

“I don’t have the power or resources to do it on my own. There are a few towns between here and there, so I was hoping to gather some materials to make some explosives.” Neliah took the roast off, offering it to Jack so he could take half. After he pulled off a portion, Neliah took the stick back, tearing chunks off with her teeth.

“It’ll still be just you, babe, on your little quest for redemption. They’ll see Aku’s most favorite assassin,” he proudly gestured to himself, “and call me a hero when I tell them of your plan. Besides, what’s to motivate me? I might just stand there and take in the scenery as they pummel your body full of bullets.”

“How far along is production on the weapon?” Jack posed hesitantly.

“They’re supposedly testing in the next month.”

“And how far away is the factory?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing a week, maybe a week and a half.”

“I would be willing to join you to destroy the factory.”

The sun stabbed them in the eyes as they crossed the empty plains. Jack felt more on edge, having only had two hours of sleep. The robot talked all night, mostly degrading Neliah, only stopping when one of the plates used to piece him back together came undone and Neliah forced him into stasis to make the repair. She mentioned that she could wake him, but Jack did not protest when she decided to let his system cool down for a few hours. Still, Jack slept fitfully, not knowing enough about Neliah to trust her, but fearing the worst if he left. Scaramouche was deadly, and Jack knew all he would have to do is sneak up on her and steal the device that was keeping him at bay.

Pacing Neliah on her own bike, he kept his eyes on Scaramouche. The robot was chained to the back at Jack’s demand, yelling over the motor. Jack thought he looked bored. Occasionally, they would meet eyes, Scaramouche making lewd gestures or giving him bedroom eyes. Jack came to appreciate Neliah’s patience. In the distance, a town finally appeared on the horizon. Jack watched as Neliah angled towards it. They came to a stop on the outskirts.

“Desolate. Looks like the beetle drones ravaged this place. There’s no carnage. Not much of anything.” Neliah had dismounted, staring down the baron streets. The buildings were still standing, although they looked wind buffeted and unused. Scaramouche had already begun strolling down the main street as soon as Neliah freed him, commenting the he would have done better, especially with his tuning sword.

“Good thing he lost it,” Neliah turned to Jack, giving him a wink before she followed after the robot. Jack kept pace with her, forcing himself to take smaller steps so as not to overpass her.

“You can go on ahead. I’m a bit on the slow side. Bad joints and such.” Jack nodded, trailing the robot, who periodically swept inside a building to explore the interiors. After two hours of wondering, and countless complaints of the humans taking too long, they returned to the entrance empty handed.

They traveled east again, the sun at their backs. The beginning of another forest provided the camping location for the night. Even with Scaramouche’s constant chattering, Jack managed to catch a few creatures to feast on. Neliah pulled out a can of oil from her bike, which Scaramouche scarfed down in seconds. Crumpling the can when it was drained, he threw it at Neliah as she began cooking. He flashed Jack a grin, pacing the perimeter of their campsite. Scaramouche bored of talking to himself after an hour, taking a seat next to Neliah.

“What’s wrong, Sammy baby? Do I make you nervous? Do I make your skin crawl?” Jack eased his hand from the gun hoister, slowly chewing on the roast as he kept his eyes on the robot. Scaramouche’s grin split across his whole face. Faster than Jack could get to his feet, Scaramouche had grabbed Neliah’s left arm, flinging her away a few feet. He was on top of her, tearing at her pocket and rolling away.

“How stupid can you be, babe?” he laughed, holding up a small remote to show off his spoils. “You thought a little shock collar could keep me at bay?” The remote was crushed in his massive hand, the pieces crumbling without any repercussions to him. Neliah had risen to her feet. Jack had drawn his gun again, taking a few steps towards the robot. He noticed that Neliah had her left hand facing him, as if requesting him to stay still.

“You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, trust me, babe, I’ve been waiting for days for this opportunity. You thought that Jack here would protect you and you let your guard down. I’m going to enjoy this, babe. Au revior.” He drew his sword again, not an ounce of hesitation as he stepped forward. The sword was raised above his head as he prepared to strike the killing blow. His face went blank, the blue eyes vanishing as his mouth opened in surprise. A black substance began leaking over his lower lips before he began to scream.

Neliah walked over to his fallen form, pulling a device from her back pocket, which she touched to his temples.

“I’m sorry. I had to incorporate a failsafe should the remote be destroyed. Unfortunately, I cannot control the duration of the pain on this one. It will fade when you stop attempting to murder a sentient creature.” The device in her hand seemed to help, as Scaramouche stopped convulsing so wildly, his cries of pain fading a notch.

“I don’t want this, babe.” His voice had lost the arrogant edge Jack was used to. “I don’t want to be like this.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I know, Scaramouche. When we finish the mission, we’ll find a lab and I’ll remove the fail safe and give you a full reset. I’ll take out the assassin coding, too.”

“So I can do what I want, babe?”

“Yes, I’ll let you make your own choices. I promise.” A wave of the black burnt smelling substances tumbled of his lips again as he let out another cry.

“Please. Please … make it stop, babe.”

“I’ll put you back in stasis. Keep fighting the impulse.” Making some adjustments to the tool, she touched it to his temple again, the whining of the machine and his pained cries fading. She brushed the dirt from her clothing and returned to her seat by the fire.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little startled. Glad to see the failsafe works.” She let out a hollow laugh rubbing her own temple with her hand.

“Why did he sound so different?

“It’s the original coding coming through. The assassination program seems to falter when he’s in severe pain. It doesn’t last though. He’ll be back to the new normal in the morning.”

“He’s still a murderer.” Neliah sighed, letting out another shaky laugh.

“He’s the only family I have left.”

“And you put him back together.”

“I know. He can’t control the programming, but it’s no excuse. I’d say I feel guilty, but that’s only half the truth. I’m no better than him.” They picked at the remnants of dinner as the stars drifted lazily across the sky.

“What do you mean by saying he’s your family? Did you build him?” Jack couldn’t help the accusatory note that was creeping into his voice.

“I helped, yes. I guess it was … twenty years ago, give or take. I was about ten. Not really old enough to be a lab assistant, but I was anyway. My family’s been building robots for years. My grandmother perfected the personality chip with the first successful usage in X9. My father started working on the next phase.”

“They worked for years trying to build a circuit board that would allow robots to feel pleasure and pain. The theory was that it would create a reward and punishment system. Except they had trouble creating a motherboard strong enough. They fried so many machines trying to induce basic physical pain and pleasure. Finally, they built Scaramouche.”

“His circuits held up to the initial pleasure test, something that the others hadn’t. For a while, I guess it was nice for him. They’d experiment for hours, inducing simple pleasures. A hug, gentle currents of electricity, stuff like that, although I’m sure it became … more erotic later on. My father was … well, eccentric’s putting it nice. I was spared this viewing, thankfully. Then the second half of the experiments began after about six years.”

“Pain,” Jack guessed. Neliah nodded slowly, casting an eye to make sure the robot was still asleep.

“It changed him. I used to know him before, and he was alright. A little too talkative, a little too hands on, but he wasn’t like this. Every day, for twelve years, the house would be filled with his screaming and pleas. They would leave him strapped into a table for days on end, administering different types of shocks and recording the results to build others like him.”

“Why not just leave out the pain?”

“Because you don’t learn if there’s no pain. You can’t get better without it,” Neliah whispered, tilting her head down. “So they tortured him, or worse, took him from one extreme to the other to see how he faired. When they gathered enough data, he was so resigned. This eight foot tall powerhouse was reduced to nothing but sulking the halls and trying to avoid everything. Eventually, they reprogrammed him, repressing the original coding and adding a killer’s instinct.”

“Are there others like him?” Jack demanded.

“No. That was my first act of rebellion. I destroyed the research. They never have and never will make another one like him.”

Jack must have looked exasperated, as Neliah mouthed the words “I’m sorry” the first time they made eye contact. Scaramouche had reverted back to the way Jack had always known, but seemed more content to push the boundaries a bit. He made nastier comments, came a little too close for Jack’s comfort, and was generally annoying. Neither human said anything, as it only seemed to provoke him further when they requested him to calm down.

“Are we ever leaving, babe, or should I just sit down and rust to death?” He plopped down next to Neliah as she ate breakfast. “Or are you waiting for a little something special to start your day?” The robot started to lean towards her, his waist inching to a forty degree angle with the ground as his head rested on her shoulder. “Although I don’t mind watching if you like Jack better than me, babe. Don’t see how you would like the ragged beard, though.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m ready to head out.”

“You’re missing out, babe,” he hinted with a sneer. Neliah leaned forward, letting the rest of Scaramouche’s weight pull him towards the ground. He snarled as he sat up, beating the dirt from his side. “That was cold, babe.”

The day was uneventful. Jack wondered if they were even heading in the right direction as the crossed the endlessly repeating terrain. The worry about Scaramouche overpowering Neliah also weighed in his mind. She had no defenses against him. All three were well aware of the fact, although Neliah did not seem too concerned. She casually drove, one hand on the handlebars, one tucked in her pocket, hardly a care tainting her expression. Even Scaramouche leaning on her shoulder and running his metal tongue down her neck did not faze her.

They stopped for the night, Scaramouche volunteering Neliah to gather the firewood. Jack set up the tents as Scaramouche reclined against a tree. He periodically shouted out some orders, quite content to not lift a finger. Neliah made several trips, dropping off an armful at a time.

“Could you move any slower, babe?”

“If you want to eat, there’s oil in the side compartment. No need to wait for us.”

“Poor Sammy baby is wasting away to nothing!” Jack scowled into the small fire he had started, warming his hands as the blaze grew. Neliah was coming back with the fourth load when Scaramouche started following her. He planted a solid kick square on her back, forcing her forwards onto the small load she had collected. Jack jerked his head towards them, waiting for the pain to overtake Scaramouche.

Nothing happened.

Jack was slightly overwhelmed. He was fairly sure he was competent to deal with one or the other, but was struggling with both. Neliah woke up, immediately dragging herself to the edge of camp where she was violently sick. Scaramouche had made his way over to watch, close enough to laugh at her discomfort, but far enough to keep his shoes clean.

“What’s the matter, babe? Got a little case of morning sickness?”

“Might be food poisoning,” she got out between waves.

“Uh-huh. Sure, babe. You keep telling yourself that. Jack ate the same thing as you.” He cast a glance down at Jack, his eyes lighting up a shade brighter as he realized who had done the cooking. A scalding laugh erupted from him.

“Oh ho ho, babe,” he belted out a laugh. “Seems like Sammy baby doesn’t like you either! He already killed me once, and now he’s trying to off you!”

“You didn’t look well last night,” Jack commented softly. “You were trembling all night. Perhaps we should rest today.”

“Oh no! I don’t think so, babe,” Scaramouche growled. “I am not sitting all day in the middle of nowhere. It’s already been a week that I’ve had to endure her insufferable company.”

“He’s right. We should keep pressing forward. We don’t have the luxury of waiting.” Jack glared at the robot as Scaramouche beamed. After a light breakfast, they were on their way again.

Jack noticed the black line on the horizon first. He motioned for Neliah to stop. With a nod, Neliah understood.

“Beetle drones. Well, maybe it means we’re getting close. Looks like it’s your time to shine,” she elbowed Scaramouche.

“Ah, but you forgot, babe. I can’t kill anything. Guess I’ll just sit this one out. You can borrow my sword,” he smirked.

“I said you can’t kill sentiment creatures. These have no feelings. They just move forward, destroying everything in their path. You can destroy these.” A knot formed in Jack’s stomach at the sight of the devilish grin.

“Unchain me, babe.” They continued on to the line of approaching drones. Scaramouche dismounted with a graceful leap towards the drones. Swiftly, he began running towards the approaching ranks, sword leading the way. Neliah pulled to a stop, pulling her own gun from a compartment under the bike seat.

“Can’t say I’ll be much use, but I’ll take care of the stragglers.” Jack took his own electric staff, powering it up before riding in behind the carnage Scaramouche left in his wake. He took out the ones that challenged him, noticing that the line was converging into a circle around him and Scaramouche. After a few minutes, he pulled out, noticing the ranks were significantly less in number. He could not deny that Scaramouche’s tactics were efficient. The robot would not let himself be surrounded, jumping high in the air and using the beetle drones as spring boards. He would take out several at a time with a single swing of his sword. Jack backed out to where Neliah had remained parked. She placed a well-aimed bullet through a few that strayed from the group, mostly watching.

As the number diminished to the last twenty, the humans watched as Scaramouche taunted the last few. He’d let them get close, hacking off only a leg or two before he would jump away unscratched. He strolled back, swinging his sword absentmindedly when the last drone had fallen. The blue eyes bore into Jack, seeming a little bit brighter and a lot more reckless.

Scaramouche’s boasting did not last long when they reached the new campsite. He began walking erratically, nearly dragging his right leg when he took a step. At first Jack thought he was merely mocking Neliah again until he heard the change in tone of voice. He was still bragging about his success, but it was losing the edge rapidly. He dropped the fire wood he was collecting, slowly lowering himself to the ground.

“Help, babe. Help … me.” Kneeling, he looked over to Neliah, his metal lips trembling. She came over, her limp more visible as she tried to move faster.

“On your back. Jack, can you bring me the medical kit under the bike seat?” Both men complied, and Neliah undid Scaramouche’s belt, pulling his coat open. Jack returned with the medical kit, taking a step back in surprise as he saw just how human Scaramouche looked.

“What’s wrong, babe? You want a piece of me?” Scaramouche laughed, the harsh noise cutting off suddenly as a confused look crossed his face. “Sorry … no.” Getting over the momentary distraction, Jack’s eyes moved to the root cause of the problem. The plates holding the leg in place had started warping, the leg separating unnaturally from the hip piece. Wires were visible, sparking periodically.

“I’m going to leave you awake for this, because I want to make sure you can still move your leg when I’m done. I’d hate to patch it and have to rip the patch out later.” Scaramouche started to groan something angrily, but snapped his jaw closed and nodded.

“Jack, if you could hold the joint together,” she gestured to the two places she wanted pressed together, “Watch the sparking. It’ll probably hurt you move than it’s already hurting him.” Jack complied, turning his head away in embarrassment. The soldering tool brought a harsh cry from Scaramouche when it made contact, but he stifled them as Neliah realigned the plates and added a third to secure them.

“Alright, see if you can still move your leg.” Scaramouche lifted his right leg off the ground, rotating his foot to make sure all the circuits still functioned. “Good. I’m going to bolt these on. It’s going to hurt, but it’ll just take a minute.” The robot nodded, the blue fading as he closed his eyes. Neliah took another tool from the kit, giving one last warning before she bolted the corners of the new plate.

Jack found himself wincing with Scaramouche’s yelps. True to her word, Neliah had finished within a minute, putting the tools back in the box. Scaramouche’s hands were balled into fists, a thin trail of the black and burnt oil sliding out the corner of his mouth.

“Can you still move your leg?” The robot did not answer nor move. Finally, he raised his leg a couple of inches off the ground before letting it fall. Neliah sighed in relief, pulling his coat closed and securing the belt. She crawled over to his head, finally letting him drift into stasis.

Scaramouche came to a few hours later, raining insults on Neliah’s repairing skills. After four hours of not receiving a single comment in return, he finally bored, laying down by the fire. He was feeding twigs into the flame, but would pull them out and flick the burning pieces towards Neliah. When even that failed to bring about a satisfactory reaction, he rolled away and laid down next to the bikes, still muttering.

“We should probably get some sleep,” Neliah suggested. Jack glanced at her, noticing she was trembling again.

“I have an extra blanket if you need one.”

“Oh no, I’m fine. Probably just a little worn out.” They wandered over to their respective tents. Jack did not sleep. The silence was too troublesome, considering Scaramouche was not currently in stasis. He could even hear Neliah’s deep breathing in the tent next to his after an hour. It was not too much longer until his suspicions were confirmed.

A wave of night birds fluttered away from their location. Scaramouche’s cry of pain reverberated around the woods as Jack bolted from the tent. The robot was still near the bikes, the control panel on Jack’s bike now sitting on the ground. Several tools lay nearby, now useless as Scaramouche could barely control his body.

“Two minutes. You need to think about what you’ve done,” Neliah called out. Scaramouche screamed for help, eyes appearing to flicker wildly as he tried to focus on anything. After the two minutes were up, Neliah made an appearance, kneeling by his head, the trusty tool in hand. She started by lessening the pain.

“Even if you’re not directly trying to kill someone, the failsafe will activate if it’s your intention,” she explained softly. The robot was begging for it to stop, even begging for death. Neliah increased the power, cutting the pain significantly as the pleas silenced, only broken by the occasional moan.

“Will you still fix me when we destroy the plant, babe?”

“Yes. I promised I would.” Scaramouche went to say something else, instead divulging a mouthful of the black oil. He turned his head to the side as the foul liquid ran out of his mouth.

“Do you trust me, babe? Do you trust what I’ll do?”

“I trust the old you.” This seemed to quell the robot for the moment.

“Please make it stop, babe. I won’t … I won’t sabotage the bikes again.” Neliah agreed, putting him into stasis again. She stood slowly, wavering as she finally got to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired. Not to sound too spoiled, but I do miss having a bed.”

It was a mistake the second the words left his mouth. All parties knew it.

“Leave her alone.” There was dead silence for three long seconds before the robot cackled.

“So you’re the father, Sammy baby! You’ve fallen low!” Neliah had finally gotten ahold of herself, fighting down the next wave of nausea as she took the water Jack offered.

“You did kind of walk into that one,” she mumbled as Scaramouche continued his taunting. They headed out after a rushed breakfast, the motor drowning out Scaramouche for the most part. Neliah started veering left, towards another town that had popped up on the horizon. Like the other town, the streets were desolate.

“Is this Alnicomaodd?” Neliah tried to make out the worn letters by the front gate. “If so, this is an old mining town. There’s bound to be some good explosives here.” They spread out, Scaramouche heading to the far end of town, Jack taking a middle section, and Neliah looking at the nearby buildings. They worked towards the center of town. Scaramouche approached them with a box in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Boom, babe. I found the dynamite.” He sat the box on the ground gently, opening the lid and showing it with a sweep of his hand. Neliah peered in, noting they were still in the protective packaging so the ride would not jostle them and set off the explosives.

“I’ll carry them back to the bikes,” Jack volunteered quickly.

“What’s wrong, Sammy baby? Scared I might drop them?” Scaramouche backed away though, letting Jack take the box. The three headed back to the bikes. Scaramouche would walk a few buildings ahead, and then circle back, offering his version of encouragements. Jack noticed that Scaramouche had slowed down to Neliah’s pace. He too slowed down, should another conflict arise.

“They’ll have the weapons and the next model at this rate, babe. Allow me to help.” He grabbed her right wrist and went to pull her forward. His hand curled into a fist, the back of Neliah’s hand falling unnaturally against his. Scaramouche stopped walking, his features confused. Jack eye’s darted back from the snapped wrist to Neliah’s blank expression. Rather than just releasing her arm, Scaramouche pulled it straight up slowly. At the height, he rotated it unnaturally, finding no resistance.

“Would you kindly release my sleeve?” Scaramouche opened his fist, watching as the material feel straight down. Neliah used her left hand to tuck the fingers of the glove at the end of her right sleeve back into her pocket.

“Babe, where’s your arm?”

“Got infected, so I had to remove it.”

“When, babe?”

“Couple months ago.” Neliah continued walking, finally catching up a few steps to Jack. He turned back in the direction he was walking after casting one last look at Scaramouche who still had not moved. The two walked slowly, finally hearing the mechanical noises of Scaramouche as he caught up behind them. Scaramouche grabbed Neliah’s waist and tossed her effortlessly over his shoulder. He made an offhand comment about her still taking too long, but his concentration was elsewhere.

“What’s this, babe?” Jack watched as Scaramouche wrenched something small out of Neliah’s hand. Even with her arm extended, she could not reach to the top of his head, let alone whatever Scaramouche held above his head. Uninterested in her demands, he glanced up, reading off the label of the pill bottle.

“Oxyquartines. Wow, babe! How’d you manage to get the good stuff? Take two by mouth per day? Nobody takes that much, babe. How’s it going to impact yours and Jack’s child?”

“Give it back!”

“Aw, are you in pain, babe? These aren’t even yours, unless you changed you name, thief.”

“I had to use an assumed name. I can’t really waltz in anywhere using my real name, now can I? They’re no use to you anyway.”

“I might feel a little something if I grind them up and mix them with my oil. Might dull the pain that you love to put me in, babe.”

“Please, Scaramouche, please return them.” Jack watched as satisfaction flashed across the robot’s face.

“Are you begging me, babe? You’re not very good at it.”

“Yes,” she conceded, “I’m begging you. I need them.” He had lowered the bottle so it was just inches above her fingertips.

“Begging’s done on your knees, babe.” Jack’s hand was on the gun handle. He was not sure where he intended to step in, but if it was going on the path he thought, then he planned to make his move soon. Neliah slowly went down to her knees, leaning her head against the hip joint they had repaired. Her eyes remained glued to the ground.

“Please give them back.” Scaramouche let out a harsh laugh, finally lowering his arm.

“You’re probably right, babe. Can’t use them anyway.” He casually tossed the bottle a few feet away, which Neliah went scrambling after. Jack assumed she took one, trying to better secure the bottle in an inside jacket pocket. She sat with her back against a tree, bringing her knees up to her chest and burying her head with her remaining arm. Scaramouche gave them ten minutes of peace to finish breakfast before he began rushing them. Neliah made her way over, blocked by Jack on her way to the bikes.

“Are you –”

“Fine. Yes, I’m fine. Never better.” She brushed past him, not even bothering to put the chains on Scaramouche as she mounted and headed east. Jack was sure to keep an eye on them, hardly watching the landscape. Both were hard to read, Scaramouche almost looking contemplative while Neliah had kept her expression even, still masterfully driving with one arm.

They drove all day, but the trees were sparse as the sun lengthened their shadows. Even as it grew dark, they pressed on. Jack was a bit nervous watching the pair. Neliah’s bike would waver a bit on the trek. After a while, he felt her glare piercing through him and kept his eyes forward. A sigh of relief escaped him as another town finally appeared on the horizon. They gunned towards it, two dust clouds trailing them.

“I’ve been here, before,” Jack murmured. The feeling of returning to an old battle ground haunted him as they each took a flashlight and went to see if there was a secure building to rest in for the night.

“That looks like a lab, babe.” Scaramouche pointed at the round building. He hauled her off her feet and over his shoulder as he headed in the direction, Jack needing to run to match the pace. Kicking down the door, Scaramouche let himself inside, groaning as he saw the interior was mostly destroyed.

“Exdor’s old lab!” Jack finally realized.

“You know Exdor?” Neliah’s demeanor perked a bit. “Well, knew him, at least. He’s been dead a few years.”

“It’s been a long time, but I knew him. He helped me destroy the Ultra-bots.”

“Kind of liked him, myself,” Neliah smiled, talking over Scaramouche’s comments. “Started working against Aku. He was a legend. Wished I had gotten a chance to meet him.”

“Let’s go, babe. This place is useless.”

“Now, now. Don’t be so hasty. You know how scientists like to have their back up lab.” Scaramouche froze in his trek back to the door. He dropped Neliah, hurrying to the perimeter to start looking for a secret door. Neliah made her way back to Jack. He saw the dilating of her pupil, but could not make it as she stumbled over something and hit the ground.

“Found it.” Scaramouche was over in a second, on his knees searching for a way to get the trapdoor open. He found a handle, jerking it up only for it to break off in his hands.

“Maybe there’s a key, or we –” Jack’s suggestions were interrupted as Scaramouche got a hand hold and ripped the entire door off of its hinges, flinging it behind him. He jumped down the stairs, Neliah and Jack wincing as his metal body bounced off the narrow walls with loud, metallic thuds. Both headed down the stairs carefully, ducking under the low archway.

“It’s got all the amenities, babe,” Scaramouche called up, notably excited. Jack entered the hollowed out room, shielding his eyes as Scaramouche shown the beam in his face. All sorts of tools he did not recognize lined the walls, pieces of metal, nuts, bolts, and screws littering the floor.

“Does the generator work?” Neliah posed the question as she took the last step. Scaramouche wondered over to the far side, looking at the control panel. He pressed a few buttons and pulled some levers, but the machine stayed quiet. Knocking on the fuel tank produced a hollow noise.

“So we’ll keep our eyes open for fuel in our travels.”

“There might be something in town, babe.”

“Feel free to look around, but I’m not taking out the fail safes until after we destroy the plant. That was the deal.” Scaramouche growled about that not being fair, instantly snapping his mouth shut when Neliah suggested that she did not have to perform the procedure at all if he did not want to wait. He slunk back up the stairs, heading out in search of fuel.

“Should we go back up to ground level to sleep?”

“Here’s fine. He can’t block the exit without the fail safes activating.” She found some folded up blankets, tossing one to Jack before spreading the other on the desk. “Besides, we might actually get a little sleep if he spends all night looking for fuel. He’ll be looking a while since he didn’t even see the extra containers under the desk.”

“It’s almost noon. Let’s go, babe!” Scaramouche dropped his armful of metal objects before sweeping his flashlight around the darkened lab.

“Noon? I feel like I’ve only slept for a few hours.”

“Too bad, babe. Here, I found this.” He picked up one of the cans and hurled it at her. She let it hit her chest with a dull thud and a groan. Finding a flash light, she looked at the can.

“This expired like ten years ago. Thanks, though.” In the darkness, Jack watched as Scaramouche rolled his eyes, unable to see the rest of his expression.

“What about this one, babe? Or this one?” he threw can after can at her. She shielded her face, letting them hit her or the wall. After five or six, he stopped, nudging the pile of metal to see if there were other consumable goods among the partial cans of fuel.

“This ones probably okay,” Neliah popped open the lid, sniffing the contents. “Yeah, this is good. Thanks, Scaramouche.”

“Good, let’s go, babe.” Neliah found another can which had not yet expired, tossing it to Jack. He opened it, taking an exploratory sniff and gagging.

“It smells bad, but the taste is pretty good.” Jack took a bite.

“What is it?” The texture was slimy, but tasted like a combination of beans and poultry.

“You don’t want to know.” Scaramouche had marched up the stairs, impatiently tapping his feet at the top. They ate, Jack leading the way up the stairs.

“The sun’s barely up,” Neliah remarked, glaring at Scaramouche.

“My bad, babe. I can’t tell time.” A knowing grin spread across his face as he led the way to the motorcycle, grabbing Neliah on the way. Jack wished that he would stop throwing Neliah to the ground when they reached the destination, but held his tongue. Scaramouche sat in the driver’s seat, hands on the handle bars.

“As much as you want it, I’m not riding in your lap, so slide back.”

“You’re making me motion sick, babe. And you drive too slowly.” Jack hoped his face didn’t show the disappointment when Neliah did not protest. She grabbed his waist and hauled herself on behind him. Scaramouche drove significantly faster, and Jack hoped his bike would be able to keep up. He glanced over to see how Neliah was faring. The robot was shouting, although Jack couldn’t make it out. Neliah met his eyes, nodding towards Scaramouche and rolling her eyes.

The manufacturing plant did not reach up to the stars, but it might have stretched around the world as far as Jack could tell. Neliah was explaining the layout of the plant, describing their best route to get to the main machines in the center of the building and start the destruction there. The ends were mainly holding facilities for the drones to send out in batches.

“The longer we can go without setting off the alarms, the better. They’ll have every beetle drone on us if we do. Doesn’t matter if they’re half built or fully functioning. We get the dynamite into the machines, set the fuses, and then we have two minutes to get out.”

“Easy, babe. Watch the motorcycles.”

“I’m coming in with you both.” Scaramouche’s protests were louder than Jack’s, so she addressed them first.

“While I appreciate your selfish concerns, how are you going to turn the machines off while fighting off the drones and manufacturers? If you don’t, you’ll never get the dynamite inside safely.” His face fell.

“How do you except to shut the machines off, babe? You can’t just waltz in any better than we can. In fact, it’s probably worse than us, babe.”

“I’ve worked on them before. I’ve also destroyed them. I know how they function. Why do you think I’m running us through the control room rather than just barging in the front door? There’s less alarms and we can move a little slower. If we can take the control room, we can put the emergency locks on the holding locations so we only have to deal with a few. You two can hold them off, and I’ll get the machines stopped. I’ll expect you to get me on the way out if you want me alive.” Scaramouche made a last scathing remark before he took the box of dynamite from Jack’s bike and headed towards the building. Neliah assured them security videos were not used, since it was in such a remote location. Mounting the building in two easy leaps, Scaramouche left the box on the roof as he came back to collect Neliah. Jack followed them up. As Neliah has explained, they found the roof access, Scaramouche leading the way as Jack carried the box, Neliah walking behind him, gun in hand. Scaramouche destroyed the simple hall monitors. Each time one appeared and was destroyed, the three would freeze and wait thirty seconds to see if an alarm had been activated.

They reached the hall leading to the control room. Scaramouche peered around the corner, declared the hall empty and kept going. He reached the entrance to the control room first, tilting his head as he looked in. Letting out a harsh laugh, he proudly declared it was empty.

“No. They wouldn’t do that.” Neliah walked past Jack, who had set the box down to rest a moment.

“Well, looks like you were wrong, babe,” Scaramouche scoffed, gesturing to the room as Neliah approached. She stepped to the far wall, glancing at an angle at the doorway.

“Get away! It’s a –” Neliah jumped backwards as metal arms stretched out and latched onto Scaramouche’s arms and waist. His eyes were wide as he looked back for help before being pulled into the room.

“Guard the box!” Jack demanded as he sprinted past Neliah, his own gun drawn. He starred into the room, seeing it empty. The hologram shimmered as the next set of arms reached out. Jack side stepped them, rolling into the room. Immediately, his gun exploded in his hand with a beam of energy.

“What a trio! A rogue assassin, a fallen scientist, and a mad samurai. I’m not quite sure which of you is worse.” Before Jack stood a tall robot dressed in a green suit with gold trim. Although not quite as tall as Scaramouche, he was a foot taller than Jack and twice as wide. His left hand had been forced into Scaramouche’s chest, oil dripping down his arm from the four finger holes he had punctured through the metal chest plate. Scaramouche writhed against his bindings, teeth clenched as he refused to vocalize the pain the other robot was causing.

“I thought about sending the drones in after you all as you destroyed my security bots, but I knew you were headed this way. It’s much more fun to finish you off in person. I’ll be back for you, Neliah!” Keeping the gun trained on Jack’s chest, he removed his fingers from Scaramouche and touched a button on the control panel behind him. The door latched shut.

“So who wants to die first?” He shoved his fingers back into Scaramouche’s chest. Scaramouche’s sagging frame tensed up again. Although his eyes were open only slits, Jack could tell they were becoming dull.

“I’m … on your … side, Voltiare, babe.” Scaramouche choked out.

“Is that so? Then you would have already disposed of the Samurai.” Scaramouche was trying to explain the failsafe, but couldn’t get the words out. What few words he managed made it clear the pain was overriding the assassination code again.

“I think I’ll start with you. You were only good as a punching bag, anyway. I don’t know why Neliah took any pity on you. I would have scrapped you like the good doctor’s original plan once research was complete, but she begged for you to be spared. Probably converting you into an assassin was not the idea she had in mind, although she paid dearly for her interruptions. Such a pity all the results were lost.” Jack held his ground, discreetly trying to glance around the room for anything he could use to his advantage. The green clad robot watched him intently, not even looking at Scaramouche as he tortured him.

“So tell me, Jack? What made you stoop to working with two murderers? Surely you don’t condone that kind of behavior.” Jack said nothing.

“Ah, or do you not know about Neliah? She used to be a force to be reckoned with, although I’m quite surprised she’s still alive. I was lucky to land a job here before she snapped. Left the Xander family lab in ruins. All the work of generations past: gone. All the new inventions and new models: destroyed. Her family: dead.”

“I suppose that’s better for you, though. She took out Aku’s leading scientist, so now all we have left are the drone makers. They’re a bit bland, always rehashing the same thing, maybe adding a leg, making it bigger, but it’s all the same.” Jack finally trained his eyes on Scaramouche, needing to focus on something. The robots eyes had disappeared, his hat displaced to the floor from one of the times he thrashed his head. A steady stream of black oil spewed from his mouth, dripping down the front of his coat. Jack began tensing, planning to make one attempt at an attack.

The opening door behind him was all the diversion he needed. Voltiare fired as Jack dove to the side, leaving a searing wound in his shoulder. He fired again at the opening door before his head exploded in a stream of sparks and oil. Neliah laid on the ground, breathing heavily as Voltiare’s body slowly collapsed, his hand finally sliding away from Scaramouche’s chest. Holding his right shoulder, Jack took the few steps to her, and pulled her to her feet.

“Took a few more minutes than I hoped to get the door open.” She tucked the gun away and stared blankly at Scaramouche for a while. He did not move. Swearing under her breath, she picked up the lifeless body of Voltiare, letting it lean on her as she slid the fingers back into the hole.

“Help me hold him up.” Jack took her spot under the body and kept the hand in position as Neliah adjusted her tool. She jammed it into the neck where his head used to be, twisting it to find the right position.

“Please work,” she prayed, staring up at Scaramouche’s lifeless face. A faint whirring started, increasing in sound as Scaramouche moved his limbs and head slightly. He came to with a robotic gasp, spraying the black liquid over Neliah.

“How are you feeling?” she posed. Scaramouche’s eyes appeared and he opened his mouth to speak. Instead, his body went limp again, the whirring fading.

“No, no, no, no!” Neliah wrenched the tool to the side, the circuits in the severed head sparking at the increase of electricity. “Come on!” Scaramouche began to move again. He finally groaned, raising his head.

“What happened, babe?”

“This energy vampire took too much out of you. I’ve reversed what I could, but you’re going to need a recharge.” She pulled Voltiare fingers away, Jack throwing the body to the floor and exiting to get the box of dynamite secured in the room. When he returned, Neliah sealed off the door behind them, scanning the control panel for a way to free Scaramouche. She found the release. Jack helped pull his fallen body towards the control panel, Neliah assuming there would be a charge station nearby which would have satisfied Voltiare’s appetite. She discovered a few tools and opened up the top of Scaramouche’s jacket. Jack stared down at the four finger sized holes, seeing that they had gone about three inches into the metal. Neliah was working to get the movable cover plate off, struggling a bit with only one hand. She pried it up enough to attach the wires inside. Scaramouche made a strange noise between a purr and a hum, his eyes flickering rapidly as a soft smile crossed his face. She studied the holes, but determined they would not provide too much trouble until she could properly fix them.

Neliah was scanning the monitors silently. Below them in the main room, the workers went on obliviously. She was frowning.

“I think I can clear the room with an alarm, but it will send in the drones.”

“It will protect them,” Jack assured her.

“We’ll wait five minutes after I set the alarms, which will give them enough time to get out. Will you be ready in five?” She nudged Scaramouche with her foot.

“Babe, I was ready ten minutes ago!” The confidence and arrogance had returned.

“You were dead ten minutes ago, but okay.” She pulled the alarm, seeing the lights flash in the room below them. On the monitors, the works fled towards the sides. Scaramouche pulled the protruding wires from his chest, reaffixing the chest plate and closing the jacket. Neliah was working to halt the mindless machines, typing in the algorithms to get them to stop. When the movement had stopped, she gestured to the windows in front of her.

“The room’s yours.” Scaramouche dove through the glass of the control room. Standing in the shattered remains, he held out his hands and looked up. Jack took the risk. He dropped the box, holding his breath until Scaramouche caught it, dropping to a knee to prevent bring the box to a sudden stop. Jack followed him out, each taking half of the ammunition and affixing it to the machines. The first of the drones were entering the room, Neliah shooting what she could from her lookout in the control room.

“Fuses lit, babe! Let’s get out of here!” Scaramouche jumped back to the control room, grabbing Jack’s hand when he followed and yanked him forwards. Jack led the way as Scaramouche hauled Neliah over his shoulder and took off behind him. On the roof, Jack slid to the edge, taking a deep breath before he hurled himself over. Scaramouche was behind him, hugging Neliah towards him as the first explosion rocked the building. The shockwave sent them hurtling forwards. Jack hit the ground and rolled to his feet. He glanced back. Scaramouche had used as much of his body as possible to shield Neliah, hitting the ground hard. Uncurling himself, he stood up as if unfazed, jerking Neliah back over his shoulder and running. Another explosion rocked the building, further crumbling the middle section. Stealing another glance back, Jack could see the workers hurrying out the sides, having been spared from the blast. He was pleased there was not a wave of drones hurrying after them.

Scaramouche readjusted Neliah in front of him, speeding away on the motorcycle. Jack chased after him, finding that his bike had enough power to catch up. Scaramouche had his right arm securely across Neliah’s chest, eyes glued forward as they navigated back to Exdor’s lab. Jack could not tell if she was conscious or even alive.

Night was falling fast when Jack finally noticed movement from Scaramouche’s passenger. She reached over to pull her right sleeve and secure it in her pocket. Scaramouche continued to hold her tightly, lest she fall at such speeds.

Jack could hardly keep his eyes open as they finally approached the decimated town. Not needing to sleep himself, Scaramouche kept racing through the night and the morning. They pulled to a stop in front of the lab. For once, Scaramouche sat Neliah on her feet roughly, but it still failed to produce the preferred results. Neliah crumpled to the ground.

“I don’t think your leg is supposed to bend like that, babe.” Scaramouche nudged her foot, nearly at a ninety degree angle from her leg.

“Thanks for your observation.” She tried forcing it back with one hand, starting to get it straight. Jack knelt beside her, swallowing the bile in his throat.

“What can I do to help?”

“Just grab it and twist it back into something that looks normal. I just need my shoe to be parallel with the ground.” Jack reached out, touching the mangled limb gently.

“Please, let me know if I am hurting you.”

“You won’t. It’s just a metal frame.”

“Your foot too, babe?” “I’ve made do without.” She raised her right pants leg a bit, showing off the metal rods that were connected to the shoe. They extended further up her leg, although it was impossible to tell how far up her leg they ran. Jack adjusted the metal so her foot looked normal. She shoved herself up, taking a few experimental steps.

“Yeah, that’s good. Thanks.” They followed her inside, Scaramouche finally taking the lead as he headed down the stairs to the lab.

“Alright, babe. What do you need to get the failsafe out?”

“Relax. Pull up that table and get comfortable. You’re going to be there a while.” Scaramouche rolled the table from the side and moved it to the center of the room, shining his flashlight at the ceiling to make sure he was centered under the light.

“Should I put the fuel in the generator, babe? I’ll get it started.”

“Just lay down.” Scaramouche halted mid-step. Without another word he followed the order. She stepped up to his head, taking his hat off and laying it on the desk.

“I’ll get Jack to help me with the prep. You can just enjoy a long snooze.” She touched her tool to his temple for a few seconds, putting him into stasis.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing right now. I need sleep. As soon as I get a few good hours under my belt, I’ll get started. Here,” she passed him the tool, “If he stirs just touch it to his temple on either side and he’ll be out for another three or four hours. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt him.” She curled back up on the desk, wrapping the blanket around her.

“Don’t wake me unless it’s an emergency.” Jack heard the pill bottle rattle a few times before she went quiet. Jack renewed the stasis three times before Neliah awoke with a groan.

“I needed that. Did you get to sleep any?”

“Yes, a few hours here and there.” Neliah stood and stretched, leaning under the desk to push out the extra fuel cans.

“Let’s get the generator running and shine some light on the matter.” Jack took two of the cans and crossed the short room, pouring the fuel into the tank. Neliah stood at the controls, replicating the actions Scaramouche had taken, receiving an electric hum. The bulbs in the ceiling flickered before finally coming on, bathing the room in a pale yellow glow.

“You don’t have to stay. Personally, I would recommend getting as far away as possible. I can get the failsafe out since I put it in, but I’ve never worked with the coding. I don’t know if I can get him back to the way he was. There’s a good chance he’ll come out exactly the same as you know him, minus the failsafe.” She gathered tools from the desk, Jack offering his hands to carry what she needed as she looked through.

“I will stay. I do not approve of reviving a murderer, but I know you want to honor your promise.” He took the tools and laid them out on the table Scaramouche was on.

“It’s nice to see someone understands my dilemma, too. Thanks, but I think you should still leave before the full reboot and restart. You’re the only one that can stop Aku. There’s not much more I can do to help your cause.” She touched her specialty tool to Scaramouche’s temple once more to insure he was in stasis. From the new selection, she found a tool to start removing the plates on his head.

“You could come with me. I will make an exception for him if you can remove the assassination coding.”

“I know he won’t want to, if all goes well. He probably just wants to do something simple, perhaps performing. I’d go, but I’ll just be deadweight.”

“What will you do?”

“You know, I haven’t really thought that far. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make it this far.” She had the plates removed from the top of Scaramouche’s head. Turning her head up to the low ceiling, she let out a sigh.

“The fun begins.” Jack watched, assisting where he could. Neliah was lost in concentration for most of the day. She had become quite adept with one hand, as far as Jack could tell, carefully rearranging wires and removing tiny parts of hardware that would be lost lest someone breathe too heavily.

“Alright.” Jack jumped, having been dozing in the silence. Neliah only chuckled, which morphed into a dry hack at the lack of sustenance. “Going for the reboot. Should be about three hours. Care to share one last meal with me?”

“The offer is still available,” Jack reminded her.

“I’m going to politely decline. We’ve already slowed you down. If I’ve managed to get rid of the assassination code, I’ll get him back to civilization so he can at least talk to someone. I’m sure I’ll find a small repair shop or something that will take me.” Now able to see, they looked through the cans Scaramouche had originally found, finding one more that Neliah deemed edible. She popped the lid off, pulling out a six inch slab of meat about an inch squared.

“What is this?” Jack asked as she tilted her head up and ate it.

“Canned food is a lot better if you just don’t ask questions.” Jack pulled one out, studying it for a moment. It had scales, and looked similar to a fish. A small bite assaulted his mouth with a sweet earthy tone flavor. He took another, the two finishing the can in a few minutes.

“That was good! I am curious to know what it was.” Neliah let out a small chuckle.

“Lung of toladipus.”

“He’s at 95%. You need to get out of here.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Sure, I’ll be fine. There’s really only a few scenarios. One, he wakes up and he’s no longer an assassin. Two, he still thinks he’s an assassin, but I shoot him in the knee, knock him out, and try again. Or three, he kills me.” Jack hated the odds, but bid her farewell and good luck. He climbed the stairs, silently moving to the opposite side of the top stair when he reached the ground level and laying flat on the ground. He drew his gun, ready should Neliah’s handiwork fail. All was silent for what felt like an eternity.

There were several small metallic clangs that sounded like the tools falling, followed by a larger thud and a robotic noise of confusion.

“Babe?” Jack sighed, allowing a smile to cross his face.

“I’m here. How are you?” Neliah’s voice shared the same glimmer of hope.

“I feel like my head’s been put through the compacter, babe. It’s fading though and … there’s nothing else there. Feelin’ a little empty, babe.” There was a long pause. “But in a good way! It’s just me, babe, if that makes any sense.” Neliah responded, but Jack could not make out the words. Scaramouche’s voice dropped the next time he spoke, the entire conversation reverting to indecipherable words. Jack was about to call down to make the same offer to Scaramouche, but he heard one last phrase. The words were in French, but he picked up the word for ‘love’ before two gun shots rang out.

Jack stifled a gasp so as not to give away his position. He resumed the stance, waiting for the robot to appear. Heart pounding in his ears, it took a while to hear the faint pleas.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.” Jack was not quite sure robots could cry, but he had no other word for the strange noise drifting from the basement lab. He waited nearly ten more minutes before silently making his way around the trap door to the stairs. Peering down, he could see Scaramouche had his back to the stair well. Soundlessly, he descended.

Scaramouche had his arms wrapped around her lifeless body, one holding her head against his chest, the other around her back. Her body had been pulled into his lap, and he rocked them both slowly, apologizing softly. The robot stopped moving when Jack touched the gun to the back of his head.

“You killed her.” A shutter seemed to run through the robot.

“You don’t understand, Sammy baby. She was in so much pain! Do you know how long she’s been suffering, babe?” His question was more of an accusation.

“We could have found her help,” Jack growled, finger twitching on the trigger.

“No, babe. There was no help. She was dying.” He gingerly brushed the hair out of her peaceful face. “No doctor could cure her. Her father tortured her with some sort of chemicals. She survived, but her body is disintegrating. Those pills she was taking … they’re what you give to someone who’s dying to make them comfortable, babe. You don’t just get those prescribed! She had a doctor friend somewhere who must have pitied her. Even if I let her live, she only has enough for one or two more days, then it’s pure agony until we find another place. But for what, babe? She had a few weeks left, at best, she said.”

“Her arm’s gone, half her leg’s gone. You can tell her other leg’s going. She’s lucky she still had full use of one hand, babe! I mean … I’m lucky that …” he trailed off. “Her organs, too. She was falling apart in front of us, lying through her teeth, baby. She … she made sure she had enough pills to operate on me. That ‘morning sickness,’ babe? That was withdrawal when she skipped the second one for a few days. I d-didn’t even see it until … Babe, I just kept making it worse. I couldn’t stop myself! And then … she fixed me.” Jack had lowered his gun, stepping around the robot so he could see him eye to eye. Scaramouche still had his head leaning on the top of hers. Blood covered the robot’s hand on her back.

“Did she ask you to kill her?” Jack’s voice waivered. Scaramouche shook his head.

“I offered, babe. She would never do that to me. She … she said better me than let someone have the s-s-satisfaction.” Scaramouche let out another sob before his eyes flared open, angry.

“She didn’t deserve this! All she ever wanted was to learn and build things. Happy things, babe! Not monsters … like me. She wasn’t like the lot of them. She wanted me to be safe … to be happy … and babe, I could have been. We were going to get away before they reprogrammed me. I wouldn’t have killed, babe, but I could wield a sword. With her sharp shooting, we could have made it. Could have, babe … and I ruined it. They told me they had wronged me, and wanted to make it up. Said they would remove the pain function and wipe my memory of it. Lies, babe. They lied to me! They just reprogrammed me, suppressing the real me with the assassin program. They let me watch as they tortured her, testing all the new chemicals. The assassin loved every minute.” Had Neliah been alive, she might have yelped at the tight squeeze Scaramouche pulled her in.

“They sold me to Aku after a while. Said they didn’t need me anymore, babe. Not long after I left, I heard they had … well, Voltiare isn’t a liar. Sammy, baby, you gotta believe me. She was good! She wouldn’t have done it if there was another choice!” He was sobbing again, rocking gently.

“Come on,” Jack touched his shoulder. “Let’s give her a proper burial.” He nodded, rising slowly, holding Neliah tight. He followed Jack up the stairs and into the night.

“She would have been happier here, babe. She would … She’d have been alive still.” The last half came out bitter. Scaramouche wondered around the lab, finding a location that satisfied him as Jack went in search of a pair of shovels. He returned nearly a half hour later, finding Scaramouche on the back of the lab near a burnt tree. Neliah was still hugged against him. He glanced up when Jack stepped closer, planting a soft kiss on the top of Neliah’s head before he sat her down gently.

They dug without speaking. When the hole was deep enough, Jack climbed out. Scaramouche stood in the pit for a few more moments. He pulled himself out, picking up Neliah, and lowering her into the fresh grave. His metal fingers brushed the hair from her face and smoothed her clothes. Jack was inclined to believe Scaramouche’s story, seeing as Neliah looked peaceful, even in death.

“Would you … like to say any last words?” The robot shook his head. He pushed the first shovelful of dirt back into the hole, then turned and began walking away. Jack smelt the burnt oil as he hurried past, disappearing on the other side of the building.

Jack let a single tear roll down his face as he finished the deed. He whispered a pray over the grave, wiping the dirt from his hands as he went in search of Scaramouche.

The robot had not gone far, sitting on the ground by the front of the lab. The black oil had left new stains on the front of his jacket along with Neliah’s blood. Jack sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Neliah said you wouldn’t want to, but you are welcome to join me.” Scaramouche let out a hollow laugh.

“She knew me, well babe. Only one who ever did. You know why she had that little tool, babe? She made it for me, after they would experiment on me. Knew I would be better off in stasis on the nights when the pain was too bad.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” Scaramouche just shook his head.

“I have your other sword, if you want it back,” Jack added.

“Keep it, Sammy baby. I won’t need it any more. Take what you want from her bike as well. I’m done, babe.” Jack waited until the sun rose before he stood and spared a last farewell. Scaramouche raised his hand in a single wave as Jack mounted his motorcycle and continued north to whatever fate awaited him.

#Samurai Jack #Scaramouch #Scaramouche #tw: torture #tw: violence #fan fiction

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snow-slayer · 7 years

Text

Here’s a sneak peek at my next story. Trying my hand with some Scaramouch Samurai Jack fanfiction.

“Never Better”

“Stand down.” The robot merely laughed, although Jack was not surprised by the action. Trying to command the eight foot tall assassin was a woman hardly five feet tall and weaponless as far as Jack could tell. She didn’t seem concerned, standing with both hands tucked casually into her pockets.

“Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you, Sammy baby? I’m not so easy to kill.”

“I said stand down,” the woman repeated flatly.

“Relax, babe. I can take him.” He draws the sword on his back, giving it a few test swings as Jack draws his gun, aiming it at the center of Scaramouch’s chest. Suddenly, the robot grabs his head, the sword falling harmlessly to the ground, followed shortly by the robot himself.

“Uhh, babe! Stop!” he moaned out, rolling to his side and bring his knees up to his chest. Jack cast a glance at the woman. He could see her left hand move slightly, and guessed that she had some device in her pocket that was administering the pain. Slowly, the robot regained his composure, dragging back to his feet. He sheathed his sword and shook his head.

“Sorry. Didn’t meant to startle you. We’re still … working things out.” Scaramouch had retreated, still caressing his head with one hand as he muttered under his breath. “The name’s Neliah.”

“Jack.” He cast an eye around their campsite. He had seen their campfire as he was traveling, leaving his bike to investigate on foot. As he had drawn near, he heard the familiar voice, although he did not know how that was possible, having thought Scaramouch thoroughly destroyed.

“Nice to meet you in person. Only heard terrible things about you, of course.” She shuffled closer to the campfire, rotating the meat on the spit.

“Why don’t you ask him to stay, babe? I’m sure he’d love to hear all the things you’ve done. Like all the people you’ve hurt, all the weapons you’ve helped make. Makes me look like a kitten, babe.”

“I needed fire power. That’s why I put him back together, if you were wondering.” Jack cast another glance towards the robot who had begun pacing by the tent.

“Won’t let me kill anything, Sammy baby. Can’t see why she wants to torment me.”

“I added a few safety precautions until I can do a full reboot and remove the assassin program.”

“Nothing to remove, babe. I was made this way.”

“What are you planning?” Jack’s hand inched towards his gun as Scaramouch finally meandered closer to the fire.

“I’m tracking the beetle drones manufacturing plants. The largest one is said to be out this way.” She pointed towards the east. “I only have a general location. We’re going to destroy it to slow down production in addition to destroying their newest weapon creation. There’s been rumors circulating that there’s a new mind controlling device in production which could potentially work on robots and humans. If it gets completed, that will give Aku or anyone who gets there hand on it unlimited soldiers, soulless shells that follow his every whim.”

“Wouldn’t you know, babe? Must have been fun making the first designs,” Scaramouch laid on his chest, feeding twigs to the fire.

“I don’t have the power or resources to do it on my own. There’s a few towns between here and there, so I was hoping to gather some materials to make some explosives.” Neliah took the roast off, offering it to Jack so he could take half. Pulling a small half, Neliah took the stick back, tearing of chunks off with her teeth.

“How far along is production on the weapon?” Jack posed hesitantly.

“They’re supposedly testing in the next month.”

“And how far away is the factory?”

“I don’t know. I’m guess a week maybe a week and a half.”

“I would be willing to join you to destroy the factory.”

The sun stabbed them in the eyes as they crossed the empty plains. Jack felt more on edge, having only had two hours of sleep. The damned robot talked all night, mostly degrading Neliah, only stopping when one of the plates used to piece him back together came undone and Neliah had to force him into stasis to make the repair. She mentioned that she could wake him, but Jack did not protest when she decided to let his system cool down for a few hours. Still, Jack slept fitfully, not knowing enough about Neliah to trust her, but fearing the worst if he left. Scaramouch was deadly, and all he would have to do is sneak up on her and steal the device that was keeping him at bay.

Pacing Neliah on her own bike, he kept his eyes on Scaramouch. The robot was chained to the back at Jack’s demand, yelling over the motor. Jack thought he looked bored. Occasionally, they would meet eyes, Scaramouch making lewd gestures or giving him bedroom eyes. Jack came to appreciate Neliah’s patience. In the distance, a town finally appeared on the horizon. Jack watched as Neliah angled towards it. They came to a stop on the outskirts.

“Desolate. Looks like the beetle drones ravaged this place. There’s no carnage. Not much of anything.” Neliah had dismounted, staring down the baron streets. The buildings were still standing, although they looked wind buffeted and unused. Scaramouch had already begun strolling down the main street, commenting the he would have done better, especially with his tuning sword.

“Good thing he lost it,” Neliah turned to Jack, giving him a wink before she followed after the robot. Jack kept pace with her, forcing himself to take smaller steps so as not to overpass her.

“You can go on ahead. I’m a bit on the slow side. Bad joints and such.” Jack nodded, trailing the robot, who periodically swept inside a building to explore the interiors. After an two hours of wondering, and countless complaints of the humans taking too long, they returned to the entrance empty handed.

They traveled east again, the sun at their backs. The beginning of another forest provided an excellent camping location. Even with Scaramouch’s constant chattering, Jack managed to catch a few creatures to feast on. Neliah pulled out a can of oil from her bike, which Scaramouch scarfed down in seconds. Crumpling the can when it was drained, he threw it at Neliah as she began cooking. He still flashed Jack a grin, pacing the perimeter of their campsite. Scaramouch bored of talking to himself after an hour, taking a seat next to Neliah.

“What’s wrong, Sammy baby? Do I make you nervous? Do I make your skin crawl?” Jack eased his hand from the gun hoister, slowly chewing on the roast as he kept his eyes on the robot. Scaramouch’s grin was splitting across his whole face. Faster than Jack could get to his feet, Scaramouch had grabbed Neliah’s left arm, flinging her away a few feet. He was on top of her, tearing at her pocket and rolling away.

“You shouldn’t do this.”

“Oh, trust me, babe, I’ve been waiting for days for this opportunity. You thought that Jack here would protect you and you let your guard down. I’m going to enjoy this, babe. Au revior.” He drew his sword again, not an ounce of hesitation as he stepped forward. The sword was raised above his head as he prepared to recreate the movement Jack had done to him. His face went blank, the blue eyes vanishing as his mouth opened in surprise. A black substance began leaking over his lower lips before he began to scream.

Neliah walked over to his fallen form, pulling a device from her back pocket, which she touched to his temples.

“I’m sorry. I had to incorporate a failsafe should the remote be destroyed. Unfortunately, I cannot control the duration of the pain on this one. It will fade when you stop attempting to murder a sentient creature.” The device in her hand seemed to help, as Scaramouch stopped convulsing so wildly, his cries of pain fading.

“I don’t want this, babe.” His voice had lost the arrogant edge Jack was used to. “I don’t want to be like this.”

“I know. I know, Scaramouch. When we finish the mission, we’ll find a lab and I’ll remove the fail safe and give you a full reset. I’ll take out the assassin coding, too.”

“So I can do what I want, babe?”

“Yes, I’ll let you make your own choices. I promise.” A wave of the black burnt smelling substances tumbled of his lips again as he let out another cry.

“Please. Please … make it stop, babe.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little startled. Good to see the failsafe works.” She let out a hollow laugh rubbing her own temple with her hand.

“Why did he sound so different?

“It’s the original coding coming through. The assassination program seems to falter when he’s in severe pain. It doesn’t last though. He’ll be back to the new normal in the morning.”

“He’s still a murderer.” Neliah sighed, letting out another shaky laugh.

“He’s the only family I have left.”

“Yet, you put him back together.”

“What do you mean by saying he’s your family? Did you build him?” Jack couldn’t help the accusatory note that was creeping into his voice.

“His circuits held up to the initial pleasure test, something that the others hadn’t. For a while, I guess it was nice for him. They’d experiment for hours, inducing simple pleasures. A hug, a handshake, stuff like that, although I’m sure it became … more erotic later on. My father was … well, eccentric’s putting it nice. I was spared this viewing. Then the second half of the experiments began.”

“Pain,” Jack guessed. Neliah nodded slowly, casting an eye to make sure the robot was still asleep.

“It changed him. I used to know him before, and he was alright. A little too talkative, a little too hands on, but he wasn’t like this. Every day, for years, the house would be filled with his screaming and pleas. They would leave him strapped into a table for days on end, administering different types of shocks and recording the results to build others like him.”

“Why not just leave out the pain?”

“Are there others like him?” Jack demanded.

“No. That was my first act of rebellion. I destroyed the research. They never made another like him and they won’t ever.”

#tw: torture #samurai jack #scaramouch #fan fiction #It's a first draft so it'll need some editing.

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