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greekbros · 4 years

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"greek-Bros: Phallic Judgement"

*Surprisingly, Dionysus had gone back to Rome to cause more mischief with Hermes, this time they've brought Ares along*

Dionysus: *again disguised as a wine seller* ok gentlemen, behold. The foulest creatures to crawl on the face of the earth. *Shows just random Roman citizens*

Ares: *who for some reason decided he wanted to disguise himself as the world's most intimidating slave* ......ugh....the goats? *Sees a goat*

Hermes: *cleverly disgusted as farmer* haha no. You see, these guys are absolutely weird. They insist of "rationing" Sapa, they have taxes for literally existing and above all.....their wine is watered down! But they have the best bread I've ever tasted though.

Ares: ... really?

Dionysus: don't be fooled by their baked goods my dudes. These are cruel and unrelenting scum folk. Uncultured, ignorant, and above all....they've inslaved every single country they've conquered.

Hermes: .....it's mostly about the wine isn't it?

Dionysus: ....*turns dramatically* their most unforgiving sin.

Ares: *has wondered off to see a statue of himself*.....my dick isn't THAT small.......*looks at the name plate saying "Mars"* ......I can't believe these guys misspelled my name....*takes some charcoal, scratches out Mars and writes Ares*

Centurion Gaurd: Excuse me slave! Where is your master! Slaves are not allowed near the devine statue of the gods.*sees that Ares has wrote his name on the statue's nameplate* What the?

Ares: *doesn't know the centurion was referring to him considering he's in disguise* .........*turns to the see the back of the statue* ....at least they got the ass right.

Centurion Gaurd: EXCUSE ME! Please stop making remarks about the sacred statue! You've defaced sacred property!

Ares: *slowly peaks over to the centurion* ....hey ugh there's a thing on your helmet*

Centurion Gaurd: oh really? *Pats around his helmet* where?

Ares: *points to the centurion's face* There's a shit attitude a little all over your FuCkInG ugly mug.

Centurion Gaurd: *realising what he meant* YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

Dionysus: *walks into the situation* Oh there you are Skippy! Bad boy I thought I told you to stay close to me and not open your mouth! *takes a little stick and weakly whips Ares's shoulder with a single thing of wheat*

Ares: *confused* ...wut?

Centurion Gaurd: Is there YOUR disrespectful slave?

Ares: wait you said I was going to be a noblem-*gets a loaf of bread in his mouth by Hermes*

Hermes: please shut up or we'll leave you here to fend for yourself.

Ares: *kinda just enjoying the bread* hmfhmf.

Dionysus: You see my good sir, my slave is extremely stupid, dumb and has testicles the size of grapeseeds. He was used as a human kickball when he was an infant and was raised by goats. He can't help himself sometimes. *Tries to clean the charcoal off the statue*

Ares: *angry noises* ?!?

Centurion Gaurd: .....Ok...you have the pay the "Disrespectful Slave" tax fine.

Dionysus: .....*grumbles and takes a bag filled with gold coins* ....*gives it begrudgingly* .....*grits his teeth* have....a...good day.

Centurion Gaurd: *takes the gold and sees that it's drachma* .....hmm.....*takes out a piece of paper with a semi-crude wanted poster of Dionysus, Apollo and Hermes* ......hmm.....I watching you....sir. *leaves to find Mortus*

Dionysus: *turns to Ares and glares at him* ....you owe me 20 drachma.

Ares: *has finished eat the bread* Why? Don't these mortals know we're gods?

Dionysus: No! We're here in disguise so that was can destroy the city again. You are here to make sure the country doesn't get a chance to get back up.

Ares: Fuck yah. *Literally has no idea what he agreed to*

Hermes: *saw the wanted poster in the centurion's hand* ugh...guys we REALLY need to finish what we came here for because they're definitely on to us.

Dionysus: yeah yeah I know....come on let's go. I want to destroy the coliseum again.

Ares: what's a coliseum?

Dionysus: *suddenly a huge grin forms across his face* Hermes .....is the coliseum....open?

Hermes: let me check. *Literally speeds next to the coliseum and saw a Roman sign that says "Grand Re-Opening" and zips back to Dionysus* yeah. It's open.

Dionysus: perfect. *Pops a waterskin filled with wine, and chugs it* oh gods I'm FuCkInG dry. It's like this place sucks your very essence or something.

Hermes: hmm....yeah, shame really. *as he was following Dionysus and Ares, he accidentally dumbs into a familiar face* oops sorry miss.

Octavia: *turns around with a baby in her arms that looks suspiciously familiar* Oh pardon me sir. I didn't mean to bump into, the market seems rather busy today doesn't it?

Hermes: It's ok, I was just heading to-*knotices the baby* .....ugh...

Caius the baby: *smiles at Hermes as if he knew Hermes was his dad* ba-ba :D

Octavia: Oh sweetie, daddy is working. Oh children are so wonderous, even at a few months old, they have such an imagination. By the way, have we met before? You look so familiar....are you from the countryside?

Hermes: uuggggh *trying his best to not look Octavia in the eye* yeah, I get that all the time. Trust me I have some of my own, I mean children that is. Also no I don't think I have? *Literally hoping she doesn't recognize him even though he shape shifted into her husband a year ago*

Caius: *still happily cooing over his real dad*

Dionysus: come on buddy le-*put two and two together and scowls at Hermes* ......you didn't.

Hermes: ugh....

Dionysus: nevermind we're off! *He pulls Hermes to the direction of the coliseum*

Octavia: hmmm what a strange young man. He's handsome though.

Caius: *coos in disappointment* :(

*later*

Dionysus: *rubs his hands* hehehehehe....

Hermes: this better be worth it. I thought we would write our names on the temple walls here or something.

A Roman Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen! This grand reopening of the Coliseum shall be in honor of our Lord and Emperor Caeser!

Caeser: *does the Royal British wave*

Dionysus: peeeeerfect.

Hermes: ......hey I got to ask...why did you bring Ares?

Dionysus: some bulky bastard is currently the head champion gladiator here, he use to live on Crete before the Romans decided to kidnap a few warriors there....let's just say my pettiness will come with effort.

Hermes: ......ok seriously man what are talking about?

Dionysus: look no one says that their dick is bigger than mine and actually gets away with it.

Hermes: ....you know....you could just smite someone. I mean it's not graceful....but it's effective.

Dionysus: hoho, I'm going to make this extra dramatic.

The Roman Announcer: And now! You're great champion, Maximus the Well-Endowed!

Maximus: *a huge, hulking man came out, roars out* HAIL CAESAR! *Leans to the announcer* I am going to get my 20 hot virgin women after this right?

Announcer: *whispers* yes yes. AND HIS CHALLENGER *looks at a note which was scribbled on his hand* ..... "Skippy the Not-Well-Endowed"! *Looks back his hand still not believing what he had read*

Ares: *is just happy to get into a fight, however was oddly enough only was only wearing a loin cloth and a helmet, armed with a shield and spear* ......oh boy, a whole stadium just for killing? These people rock!

Hermes: ........you didn't....

Dionysus: yep.

Ares: *steps side to side like an exited kid* comeoncomeoncomeonstartthefighting.

Maximus: Alright Skippy, time to end your tiny dicked existence. *Raised his sword on to Ares but Ares was able to break it with his helmet* !?

Ares: ....that's it?

Maximum: *confused* ugh....*waves to order in more weapons, all of which fail to hurt Ares*

Ares: .......aw come on...you guys have some shitty ass weapons. Bet YOUR weapon is just as shit.

Maximus: grrrrr.....YOU PUNY SLAVE! *Rips off his armored skirt* See! You're fucking wrong!

Roman crowd: *gasps*

Dionysus: .....

Hermes: *whistles* holyshit....dude this guy is hung.

Dionysus: If there's one god who can contest me....the only god who's dick is so epic, so powerful, so irresistible, so near perfect......that Aphrodite can't FuCkInG resist it on a daily basis.

Hermes: Heracles?

Dionysus: No buddy, Ares. Ares is the guy who's dick is better than mine I mean come on a guy who shags the goddess of love more times than any living thing HAS to have something going on down there

Some Roman Karen: EXCUSE me is pronounced Venus! We don't use greek words here.

Dionysus: Please leave me alone lady.

Some Roman Karen: *rhees in anger*

Dionysus and Hermes: *both are struggling to ignore her*

Ares: ....ok...that dick of your isn't that great.....*rips off his loin cloth* .....THIS....is a dick.

Crowd: *the women and gay men swoons over the perfect of Ares's bare body, men quake and cringe at their own feeble members and put to shame*

Caesar: *completely unimpressed and decided to leave* hmf. Pathetic.

Maximus: *wriggles in shame* HOW c-C-C-could this be?! The most PERFECT COCK? Oh my gods why is it fucking glowing?!

Ares: ....what you don't shave yourself weekly? I mean come on man that's how you keep the ladies coming back?

Maximus: *starts crying a little*

Dionysus: *cackling uncontrollably* SO THATS HIS SECRET! *writes on a piece of paper saying "shave, dick, weekly"*

Hermes: *still not fully understanding why all of this* ........you brought Ares here JUST to emasculate some gladiator?

Dionysus: Oh much more than that Herms.....much much m-

Roman Karen: EXCUSE YOU SIR ITS MERCURY!

Dionysus: *has had enough and turned her into a chicken* there much better.

Hermes: .....are you ok? Did you have your wine today?

Dionysus: I RAN OUT OF WINE LONG AGO!

Hermes: *deep sigh* not again.

Ares: *now in full naked display* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!? *The crowd roared and cheered*

Dionysus: well....yah want to set the animals free from their cages?

Hermes: fuk ye-*feels a tough and strong hand practically crushing his shoulder* .....*turns to see an old man who clearly was Zeus* .....

Zeus: .....boys.....

Dionysus and Hermes: .....Uh Oh.

Zeus: *took each of them by their ears like a discontented mother* you're BOTH grounded for bothering these mortals and above all abusing the dark, unholy power of the sacred male member ....if I had a third arm it would be reserved for Ares. *Looks down at Ares now just doing some naked dance for the crowd*........*deep and disappointed sigh*

Dionysus: but dad, I do that like everyday.

Zeus: I don't care if I don't discipline you or Hermes right the now, Hera will have MY male member nailed to the wall.

(Later that day)

Mortus: *inner noir detective monologue* after several months, nothing. Absolutely nothing. The suspects disappeared from the face of the empire. Likely their crimes have caught up with them. My only consolation to solving this case....is the mysterious birth of my son and my faithful wife. .... speaking of which...why does Caius have blue eyes? Me and Octavia have brown.....did ...she?....nah that's impossible.

The Centurion from earlier: MY LORD! I FOUND THE SUSPECTS!

Mortus: *dramatically turns around* This better be the right ones this time.

*much later after apparently an orgy broke out at the coliseum*

Mortus: .... Absolutely disgusting. Practicing Sexual Festivities without a license is punishable by crucifixion, Mark.

The Announcer (Mark): B-b-but sir! It wasn't my fault! Some slave was to challenge Maximus and they just decided to remove their clothing and everyone went wild! ....to be fair the slave did look a little attractive BUT the fornicating ceased once the slave disappeared.

Mortus:....was he accompanied by a portly, dark haired ..... individual?......an extremely attractive blonde slave and a thinner more athletic young man with brown hair?

The Announcer: ...hmm...well yes minus the other slave.

Mortus: Hmmm.....the plot thickens.....are these the mysterious criminals that destroyed the coliseum last year?....What is the motivated behind these depraved individuals?.....

The Announcer: ugh...why are you talking to yourself?

#greek bros #greek-Bros #Mortus #roman vs greek jokes #greek gods #dionysus #hermes #Ares #Zeus #greek mythology

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

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Focus

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!reader

Warnings: Slight swearing, bullying

Word count: 4,728 (this is the longest one I've ever written)

Request: Hey do you think you could do a Draco imagine? I was thinking with a ravenclaw reader who’s actually shy and clumsy.

A/n: Sorry this came out later than I anticipated, its regents week for me and I was crushed by exams. I hope to have part one of my Draco series out over the weekend. Hope you guys like this ridiculously long one!

“Ms. y/l/n” You heard an all too familiar voice say.

“Yes Professor?” You asked turning around swiftly to face the raven haired teacher.

“What happened with your potion, it was a complete disaster?” The teacher asked.

You flushed, it was no secret you weren't exactly great at positions, you were too clumsy to measure anything out, you managed to cut your finger and you always messes up the order of ingredients.

“I'm so sorry professor i'm just not very good at positions. I have been studying I swear, it just..” Your voice trailed off. “I'm sorry professor.” You mumbled looking down.

“I want you prepared for the test next Wednesday, you should be able to manage that?” He asked eyebrows raised.

“Of course professor.” You mumbled still quite flush from the whole conversation. You turned to leave walking back towards your common room. About thirty seconds later you saw the last person you wanted to. Mckenzie Clarkson. She was a fellow housemate who unfortunately was extremely popular, pretty, nimble footed and of course, smart. She was basically everything you weren't, in your mind.

“God your pathetic.” The brunett girl laughed, her stunning green eyes narrowing. “You have lost, what was it? 30 points for us today.” The girls behind her giggled whispering things to each other. “You shouldnt even be in Ravenclaw. Your far to stupid. You cant even get into the common room without help, you trip over your own feet and you are practically failing all your classes.” She smirked clearly feeling very good about herself, as you willed yourself not to cry. You hated crying, so you just glared up at her anger rushing through you like a wave, but you kept it down, what could you possibly say to her?

“Can you just let me go?” You asked voice weak.

“I don't know can we?” The hallway erupted in laughter.

“Just let me leave.” You said voice a bit stronger now as your anger grew.

“Fine.” She smirked as she moved out of the way. You quickly began to walk through the group of girls, the embarrassment was suffocating.

Just as you were about to break free of the group, a girl stuck he leg out sending you sprawling to the ground. Your hands, full of books that scattered as you attempted to get your arms in front of you, it was a failure and you landed on your elbow directly followed by you face. You groaned in pain as you felt blood begin to seep from your nose.

“Oops.” The girl giggled before they all turned to leave laughing and joking.

You lay there for a few seconds squeezing your eyes shut, begging the tears to retreat. You eventually pushed yourself up so you were sitting. You were surrounded by books and papers, you had blood rushing down your face dripping onto you shirt and you had had enough. You simply pulled yourself to the side of the hallway drawing your knees to you cest and began to cry. You knew this wouldn't stop. You were far too shy to say anything and even if you weren't the girls were right anyway. Why were you in Ravenclaw when it took you a good twenty minutes just to figure out the password to your own common room?

Just then your heard voices. You quickly moved grabbing your books and sprinting out of the hallway before anyone could see you. You sprinted the whole way back to the tower. You were greeted by the raven statue you had grown to hate. You groaned loudly.

The statue spoke, “How is it possible for you to stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?” it asked, making you groan again.

“Can you please just let me in, im covered in blood.” You grumbled knowing that it wouldn’t answer. You tried to think. How can I stand behind something that is behind me? You racked your brain for an awnser but it seemed impossible. You couldnt help it you began to cry again. Frustration, embarrassment and sadness filled you as tears streaked you cheek. Why were you put in Ravenclaw? What could that stupid, good for nothing, hat possibly seen in you that made him shout “Ravenclaw” like a farmer yelling for his next sheep to slaughter.

You then heard footsteps beside you. You turned to see Cho Chang. She was in the year above you and was everything a Ravenclaw should have been, pretty, athletic, and of course wicked smart. You wanted to hate her for being so perfect but you couldn't.

“Hey,” She said softly, “I heard what Mckenzie did. That's messed up.” She attempted to sooth you.

“It doesn't matter.” You attempted to smile but it was more of a tight lipped grimace.

“She’s wrong you know.” Cho smiled.

You gave a half hearted laugh, “What could possibly make me a Ravenclaw?”

“So much y/n,” she said, “You are crazy good at Wizards Chess for one.”

“That’s just a stupid game.” You grumbled.

“No, it takes strategy and I've never seen a single person beat you.” She pointed out.

You blushed not used to getting praised.

“Also i've seen your artwork, its beautiful, absolutely stunning.” She smiled making you blush more.

“Thanks.” you mumbled.

“Look don't let one girl get you down.” She advised before asking the statute for the riddle. It answered and she stood there thinking for a second.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “Your standing back to back.”

The statue spun open as you hit your forehead onto you stack of books making you stumble, barley catching yourself before you fell. You cursed yourself before ascending the stairs to your room. You had had enough humiliation for today.

Draco rolled his eyes as Zambini told another terrible joke beside him, “What do you call a red head with no brains?’

“I don't know, you with red hair?” Draco mocked.

“Close but no.” the other boy snickered, “A weasley!” He erupted into laughter as they rounded the corner, heading to the common room.

As they continued talking Draco felt something thump against his foot. He looked down to see a leather bound book which he had kicked a few feet in front of him. The platinum blonde raised his eyebrows before bending down to pick it up.

“What the..” Balises voice trailed off.

Draco looked up to see a small puddle of blood at the end of the quoridor.

“Some idiot probably got hurt in potions or something.” Draco scoffed, though he was a bit confused. They continued walking being careful to avoid the blood. Draco's mind was quickly brought back to the book and he opened it to see what it was. What he saw stunned him.

They were sketches. Not crappy sketches that was done by some kid, but damn good sketches. Most of them looked like they were for herbology. There were various plants with notes about them scribbled in messy handwriting in the margins, but every few pages there was something different. On the fifth page there was a drawing of a creature he didn't recognize. It was a black horse-like creature with big leathery looking wings. He wondered what it was. They had now arrived at the common room and Draco went directly to a couch sitting down on the black leather, continuing through the book. On the eleventh page there was a drawing of a broom stick. It was read Nimbus 2000 at the handel. There were various other sketches of random objects littered throughout the pages of plants and each was extremely realistic. His thoughts were interrupted by Daphne and Pansy.

“Did you draw those Malfoy?” Daphne asked plucking the book out of his hand ignoring his protests.

“No, could I have it back?” He asked glaring at the girl.

Before she could respond Perkison interrupted, “Who’s is it Dracy?”

“Don't call me Dracy” the boy groweld, “and I haven't the slightest idea.”

“Oh, how did you get it?” Daphne asked.

“I just found it, now give it back.” He stood up snatching the book up before retreating upstairs.

“Who pissed in his cheerios?” Pansy grumbled plopping onto the couch.

The next day you had herbology first period, you quite liked herbology you were good at it too. You loved how you could just sketch after you finished the drawing of the plants and of course you love your grade in the class. It made you feel less like a loser. Just a little less. When you plopped yourself into a seat next to a Ravenclaw boy named Casey. He was always very nice and often complimented you drawings. You would be lying if you said you didn't like him a little.

After sitting down and greeting the boy you opened your bag to look for your sketchbook. It was nowhere to be found. What the heck? You thought as you searched through your bag with no luck. Then it struck you. You must have left it in the dungous yesterday. You cursed yourself quietly.

“You okay?” Casey asked beside you.

“Yeah I just lost my book,” You smiled at him blushing a bit.

“Oh. I could help you look for it later if you want.” He offered.

“O-oh I wouldn't want to bother you.” you blushed

“It's no bother, I swear i want to help.” He smiled flashing a pearly set of straight teeth.

“Ok, s-sounds good.” You stammered, you felt your face grow impossibly warmer.

The lesson continues and you talked occasionally to Casey, you did your sketch on a piece of lined paper, you would transfer them when you found your notebook. After Herbologioy you and Casey headed down to the dungeons to look for your book. You had never really hung out with him out of class and it was nice. You were fighting a blush the whole time, you weren’t really one who interacted with attractive boys out of class.

Draco began to make his way down to potions, he was still working through the drawings, there were many creatures he had never heard of before. It was odd, how had he never seen so many of these before? He was halfway through the dungeons when he heard giggling. It wasn't Pansy’s shriek, it was a soft quiet sound that made him think of the patter of rain on dewy grass. He turned the corner to see two figures in blue robes. One was a tall boy with dirty blond hair and deep brown eyes. Next to him was a y/h girl with y/h/l y/h/c hair that shone in the candle light. Her eyes were a stunning y/e/c that shared a soft yet sharp gaze with the world. He was taken aback. How had he never seen this girl before? They both looked at Draco expecting him to speak but he didn't, he simply kept walking brushing past the two, tucking the leather bound book back into his robes.

As he walked away, he heard the boy mutter something to the girl, causing her to gasp and laugh,

“Casey!” she scolded him

“Oh come on y/n that was funny.” He teased back and Draco almost gasped in surprise. That was y/n? y/n y/l/n? No way. You were in his potions class and you never even spoke up, you were constantly messing up positions too. How was that girl the same one whose name he had grown deaf to Snape yelling? I didn't seem possible.

“Shot, I have to get to positions.” you told Casey glancing at your watch. He said goodbye as you walked quickly to your worst class. You were actually unusually excited, Luna one of your best friends had offered to help you out because you had the class together and she was quite good at potions. You entered the classroom quickly and found Lun, sitting next to the girl. As you waited for class to start you chatted about the different potions and what might be on the test.

“Wait for the dragons egg you have to turn it to powder first right?” you asked to see your friends gaze elss where.

“Dracos staring at you.” She said simply as if she hadn't just said an impossible sentence.

“What?” you asked turning around to meet a pair of silver eyes already on you. They quickly dodged away making you blush tremendously. “I saw him in the hallway eairler, and Casey made a stupid joke about him, hes probally plotting my death.” You sighed reality crashing on to you.

“I don't think so.” Luna said in her usual dreamy tone.

“What else would he be doing?” You murmured returning to your notes.

Before Luna could answer Snape entered the room and you snapped your eyes to the front of the class.

“It has come to my attention that many of you are getting nothing done in this class.” He stated harshly. You cringed this was not going to end well. “And because of that fact I have made a new seating chart,” You groaned, just when you were getting excited about positions.

“Listen for your name and your partner,” He continued. “Parkinson, Belby. Goldstein, Crabbe. Greengrass, Lovegood.” You glanced at your friend who was as usual, smiling. You are happy for her as well, there were much worse partners to be had. “Corner, Zambini. Boot, Blustrode. Y/l/n, Malfoy.” The rest of the names went out of the window when you heard your partner. This was not going to be good, not good at all.

When Draco heard your name called, then quickly followed by his he felt like he was going to throw up. And it wasn't because he knew you were probably going to botch whatever potion they made, it was because he wasn't sure if he could focus around you. He blushed madly and tried to think about something else. It's just a pretty girl you bloody idiot. He scolded himself. You just met her today, he reminded himself Well just realized she existed today. He was shaken out of his thoughts by Snape's voice.

“If you don't like your partner, too bad. Move together please.” Draco glanced over at y/n who was already packing up, Zambini moved from his seat apologizing to Draco for his partner and moved toward the back where Micheal was seated.

He then saw you make your way over to him your cheeks a bit red, the same way they were when you were talking to that Casey boy in the hallway. He grimaced, how was he jealous of someone he had never spoken a word to? He then decided he would ignore every good quality you had and focus on the bad ones. That way it would be easier to pretend to hate you right?

The second you sat down his plan failed. You smelt like vanilla and roses. He wanted to lean closer to you and inhale your addicting scent forever, but instead he moved over or so he couldn't breathe in your intoxicating fumes.

“Hi, i’m y/n.” You said sweetly sticking your hand out.

“I know who you are.” Draco responded ignoring your hand and continuing to stare at the board, slouching in his seat.

“Oh ok.” You murmured. He saw a small frown take over your soft pink lips and he felt angry for being its cause.

Snape explained that you were to make a Confusing Concoction potion and told you you had till the end of class. The potion wasn't too complicated. You thought you might be able to get through this one.

“I'll get the water you can work on the feathers.” Draco drawled trying not to get to close to you as he stood. You pretend not to notice.

“Ok.” you nodded. You grabbed the feathers and began to separate the barbs from them. Not but two feathers in you yelped with pain as a barb pierced your thumb. You yanked it out hissing in pain as you saw blood drips from the wound. Draco who was now back and heating the water grimaced at the sound of your pain but refused to show that he cared.

He sighed loudly, “Look you go clean up and I will finish the feathers.”

“Thank you.” you whimpered walking towards a sink face red as the blood dripping from your hand.

Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding after you walked past. He then sat down and began to work on the feathers. His fingers moved easily to separate the barbs from the stalk and he couldn't help but wonder how you had possible stuck yourself with one so quickly. He then heard a thump and an apology and looked up to see you stumbling back to your seat face a brilliant red as Millicent and Boot glared after you. He snickered a bit turning back to the feathers.

Once you had most of the ingredients in you had to wait for 30 minutes for it to boil so Draco sat down and pulled out the book of drawings he had found.

He was flipping through the pages again when he heard a gasp beside him. He looked up eyebrows raised.

“Where did you find that?” You asked pointing at the book.

“In the hallway.” He smirked, “Why do you care anyway?”

“Because it's mine.” You whispered causing his cheeks to flush.

“This is yours?” He asked surprise sewn into his voice.

“Yes.” you nodded, “I lost it when..” your voice trailed off face growing red, “after potions.” you finished voice quiet.

“You sure this is yours?” It came out harsher than Draco had intended but what could he do about it now?

“Yes.” you breathed out face growing warmer. “It does have drawings in it, doesn't it?”

“Well yeah but they are like, really good.” Only after he said it did he realise how it sounded. He instantly was filled with guilt as your face flashed with sadness and anger.

“Yeah, well, they’re mine.” You grumbled voice quiet.

“Here.” He handed the book to you, your hands brushed before you snatched the book away and he felt like he was going to burst at the feeling of your skin against his.

Just then the timer on your position went off and the two of you continued to work.

That's how it went for two weeks. You and Draco would share very few words as you worked together. Your grade did improve, but you were still quite prone to accidents and Draco rolled his eyes everytime. You went from being sad he didn't like you to being mad. He was always so rude. He would avoid speaking to you, looking at you, hell he avoided you altogether, his seat was always poised at the other end of the desk as if you were some sort of plague. All of this made you angry and frustrated. What have you done to make you so repulsive? You knew you weren't the best at potions but you had only messes up three the whole time and you were improving. You had never been rude to the boy even once, how come he hated you so much?

“I just don't get it.” You pouted turning to Casey who was walking you down to potions.

“It's not your fault y/n, he's like that with everyone.” He explained, “He's just a dick, not much you can do about it.”

“But maybe if I was better at potions the-” you were interrupted by Casey.

“Y/n its not your fault, you are amazing and sweet and kind, it's just him okay? Don't let him make you doubt yourself.”

You blushed furiously at his words, “Thanks Case.”

“Plus if he's really pissing you off just blow a potion up in his face.” he jeered.

You laughed loudly, “He'd probably kill me with his icy glare.” you teased.

“He is always glaring at you.” Casey smiled.

“Thanks for walking me.” You said.

“Of course, i’ll see you around y/n.” He beamed.

“See ya.” You said before entering the classroom. You were met with Draco's frozen glare.

“Hello Malfoy.” You greeted.

“Y/l/n” he responded his voice vacant of any emotion.

You sat down and glanced at the board to see what position you were working on. You then looked at Draco who was already looking at you making you blush.

“I'll get the water.” You said promptly before standing up and snatching a cauldron. Only when you did this you left foot got caught behind your right and you plummeted to the ground. You dropped the cauldron with a clang and you hit the ground. You instantly heard laughter erupted throughout the room and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You then heard a snicker and you didn't have to see his face to know it was Draco. You blinked furiously face a deep shade of crimson. You then pushed yourself off the ground, lifted the cauldron from a few feet away and turned to face the slytherin boy. Your shyness suddenly disappearing in your rage and embarrassment when you saw the everlasting smirk perched on his lips. You felt two tears cascade down your red cheeks as you thrust the cauldron into his hands.

“Screw you Malfoy.” your voice trembled through gritted teeth. You then quickly left the classroom, laughter disappearing behind you. You made it maybe two cordors from the classroom when you saw Mckenzie. You instantly turned to run but were cut off by a few other girls already behind you.

“God y/n, such a clutz.” She snickered. “I think you belong in a physical therapy building not a wizarding school.”

You only whimpered feeling helpless and small.

“Boo-hoo poor, poor, y/n all alone.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists.”You do realize that Casey only hangs out with you because of a dare right?”

Your eyes widened in confusion.

“I made a dare that he couldn't get you to go out with him in a month and here we are, only two weeks in and you are practically drooling over him.”

You felt a sob leave your mouth. You wanted to say it wasn’t true but you knew it was. It sure as hell wasn’t a coincidence he asked to help you find your book the exact day she said she struck the deal with him. You felt angry. Sad. But most of all embarassed. You were always so embarrassed. Why where you always so fucking embarassed?!

“Guess I'll have to go out with him now that I told you about the bet” She smirked picking at her long blue nails.

“Of course.” You muttered tears falling of your chin.

“What's that?” Mckenzie smirked.

“Of course he would want to go out with you.” You began to sob and you saw Mckenzie’s smirk widen and your anger out did you.

“Of course, some douchebag like him would want to date a slutty bitch like you.” Anger dripped like poison from your voice. All of the laughter around you stopped as you felt yourself smile. You looked up through your tears to see Mkenzies mouth wide open in shock, her eyes wide in her sockets.

Anger took over her features and she pulled her wand from her robes with a shriek. “Stupify!” she shouted and you were sent sprawling backward. Your head hit the stone wall and black dots danced in your vision. You groaned closing your eyes but they popped back open when you heard another voice.

“Back off!” it yelled anger knit into its frame. You turned to see Draco heading strait at the girls. He whipped his wand once and suddenly Meckenzi flew into the air. She then dangled there like an invisible rope was tied to her ankle.

She shrieked for the girls below her to help but they just turned and ran fearful of the boy heading toward them. After the other girls disappeared Draco flicked his wand again and Mckenzie fell to the ground and began to cry.

“Get out of here before I do more than hex you.” You heard him growl.

The girl instantly stood up sobbing as she stumbled away. Draco's eyes softened when they landed on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he rushed over to you.

“What do you care Malfoy?” you mumbled attempting to get up only to stumble over your own feet and plummet to the ground, well you would have hit the ground if it wasn't for a pair of strong arms wrapping around you. You looked up at the blonde, his grey eyes were set on your lips and felt your heartbeat speed up to extremely high. Draco's face was now quite red as he helped you back to your feet.

“Why do you hate me?” the question rose from your lips before you could stop it. You flushed immediately after it left your mouth. Draco looked taken aback by the question.

“I don't hate you.” he stated.

“Don't lie to me. You avoid looking at me, you don't speak to me, hell you sit as far away from me as possible.” You paused looking at the boy, “I just want to know why.”

He laughed he actually laughed. What could possibly be funny right now? Was this all another joke? Did he really find your misery that funny. You flushed madly turning to leave.

“No wait love, don't leave.” Draco begged his laughter stopping abruptly.

You felt heat rush to your face at the nickname and turned around looking at the ground. Your gaze was turned upward when you felt a finger slowly lift your face upward. You had never blushed so much in your entire life.

“I don't hate you y/n. I would never hate you.” He smiled, not his usual smirk but a genuine smile and it made you go weak at the knees. “I don't think I could ever hate you.”

“Then why do you act like you do?” you asked, “Why do you avoid me? Why do you never talk to me, never look at me?”

He sighed, “I avoid you because whenever I get near you, I smell you. And it drives me crazy.” His hand caressed your cheek bone and you were pretty sure you face was on fire. “Your scent is beyond intoxicating. When I talk to you I lose track of everything else and I can only hear your voice echoing in my head.” He whispered, his minty breath danced across your face making you shudder. “And when I look at you, it's like the world disappears and it's only you standing there. Everytime I look at you I have to battle myself not to lean in and taste your lips.”

You stared at him. You couldn't breath, your It had been replaced with butterflies that were now fluting inside you madly. You were pretty sure this is what death felt like. But then something clicked inside you and your realized this wasn't death it was love.

“When it comes to you, I can focus on nothing else.” Dracos lips were so close you could feel them brush yours and you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed the back of his head and smashed his lips onto yours.

You had never felt anything like it before, his lips danced on yours with grace you couldn't even begin to fathom. You felt his tongue slid across your lips and your eyes widened in surprise. You then shut them again opening your mouth a slight bit. You ran your hand threw his hair as he explored your mouth with his tongue pushing you up against the wall softly. You didn't want to break the kiss but you felt your lungs burn begging for air and you drew away from him.

You were both panting when you pulled apart. Your face was a bright red, your lips swollen, and hair disheveled but to Draco, you had never looked more beautiful.

“Merlin,” he gasped out, “I'm never going to focus again when I know you kiss like that.”

You flashed a brilliant red and giggled, Draco then decided he couldn't stop himself anymore, he pressed his lips against yours once again.

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nightingaleandtheredredrose · 5 years

Text

Starting Off the Day

Word Count: 2,451

Characters: Lynette, Silas

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Murder (It’s not very graphic, but just in case)

A/N: This is just a short fic I wrote in order to get a better grasp of my characters’ personalities! I hope to include more of the canon characters of Ozmafia into my writing later on, but for now this focuses more heavily on my OCs w/ brief mentions to some canon characters! I hope you enjoy! (⌒▽⌒)

Lynette

She starts off her day at the dead of night. It sounded odd, but Lynette had a commitment to fulfill at the brothel and she couldn’t be late.

After strapping her daggers to her thighs, Lynette quietly locked her bedroom door behind her and fled across the bookstore’s cobbled floors. She stopped by the coat rack in order to slip on an oversized trench coat.

Before Lynette made it out the door, she glanced back in the direction of the private chambers of the store. Surely Silas would still be fast asleep by now, so she didn’t feel the need to wake him just to tell him she was going out. Lynette thought about leaving him a note, but decided against this as well. He would be able to figure out where she had gone; he was a smart boy after all.

Lynette gave a sheepish smile as she turned the knob to the front door. “Sorry, Silas. Guess you’ll have to start off the morning without me.”

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Lynette hated this.

Her vacant expression belied any emotion she was feeling as she drove her dagger through her victim’s heart one last time. He had stopped struggling a while ago (and stopped breathing a few moments after that), but she had to make sure he was dead. Dorian wouldn’t hesitate to punish her if Lynette let another prostitute escape the room.

A chill ran down her spine as she remembered how dark Dorian’s usually amused gaze had become when he received news of a bloody, half-dead prostitute limping their way through the mansion, hoarsely calling for someone, anyone, to help them. Manboy had intervened and finished him off himself, but that didn’t save Lynette from the punishment that was to come. Dorian didn’t allow her to return to her bookstore for a week, giving her one ridiculously tedious task after another in order to keep her within the establishment. It was her first offense, so the punishment wasn’t as harsh as Dorian initially made it seem, but Lynette didn’t want to take any chances of receiving a second strike. She had really worried Silas too, and she didn’t want to upset him anymore than she usually did.

‘This was simply a job,’ was what she tried to convince herself of. Lynette kept a firm grip on her knife handle, watching her victim’s blood seep through the spaces of her fingers with darkened eyes. She was being pathetic. Lynette was a hitwoman, a cold-hearted murderer, it was a simple as that. She wasn’t allowed to get emotional over this; she would just seem like a hypocrite.

Her gaze eventually traveled to her victim’s face. This was a mistake.

This guy… He looked familiar for some reason. Lynette’s brow furrowed, trying to remember where she had seen him before.

Without warning, one memory flashed after another into her mind. Ah, yes. He was at the bar that one day, laughing and chatting with friends as business ran slow at the brothel. This was also the boy who always tried cheesy movements to flirt with the customers. Some of the other workers would roll their eyes whenever he dramatically dropped to one knee to kiss a woman’s hand, but Lynette had found it cute. He had visited her at the bookstore on one of his off days as well, his eyes shining in wonder when he saw the giant oak tree that was situated in the center of the library. He comically raised his head to take in the whole sight, the tree having grown through the ceiling and out into the open air. The boy had told her he had never seen anything so magnificent. He had introduced himself… His name was…

William.

Lynette felt something warm roll off her cheeks. It took her a couple seconds more to realize she was crying. She had crossed a line she wasn’t supposed to in this job; she had humanized her victim and the overwhelming sense of guilt she felt from this caused a dam to burst. Lynette lowered her head a little lower as she attempted to force her tears to stop. He was so young. If only he hadn’t gotten sick… If only…

But if he had lived he would have continued to work at the brothel. He would have remained a bird stuck within this filthy cage. Was death any better than such a fate? No. Lynette shook her head and tried to regain her composure. She was just making excuses to quell her shaking conscience.

Regardless of what it was, Lynette withdrew her knife and stood up. She didn’t have any right to say this, but she couldn’t help but murmur, “I’m sorry, William. I’m so, so sorry.”

Silas

He started off his day wondering where the hell Lynette could have possibly went. The girl had an irritating habit of not leaving any kind of notice of her leave. She had told him before that he was smart enough to figure it out, but sometimes it was hard to tell.

One day, for example, Silas thought Lynette had just gone out for some grocery shopping, noticing that there was no food in the fridge as he chugged his morning milk. He was sorely mistaken. Later in the evening, Lynette stumbled into the bookstore with a weary smile, a cut on her cheek, and dirt spattered clothing. She had helped a farmer wrangle up some escaped chickens, and it took longer than expected. Silas then asked if she had at least gotten groceries while she was out, and he received a blank look in response. They didn’t eat dinner that night.

As Silas passed by the coat rack to flip the store’s sign to “open”, he noticed that the trench coat was missing. He grimaced. Lynette only took that coat whenever she went to her job at the salon, explaining that she wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Although, if he were being honest, the sight of the small girl wrapped in a large trench coat waddling up the steps of the mansion was one of the most suspicious things he had ever seen.

But Silas wasn’t one to judge. Really, it wasn’t as if he could either. The two had an unspoken agreement between each other. As long as Lynette didn’t ask about his past then Silas wouldn’t try to figure out what her job at the salon actually was. It was as simple as that, and Silas preferred it that way.

He made his way to Lynette’s bedroom and pulled a spare key from the pot of a fern next to her door. He never quite understood why she was insistent on locking it whenever she left the store, even going as far as to hide the key in a different place every week. He just chalked it up to her reading too many mysteries involving robberies in the past month, spotting a stack of these books on the stand near her bed. Lynette was easily influenced by her surroundings after all.

Silas shook his head disapprovingly as he pulled out the top drawer of her stand. “Miss Lynette would be crap at anything that involves suppressing her emotions,” he muttered to himself. “Ah. Found it.”

He withdrew a book from the messy drawer. It had no illustrations nor writing on its covers, but the words, “A Shot in the Dark” were written in gold along the binding. This dark green hardback appeared like nothing special; it was near identical with dozens upon dozens of books in the store.

But things aren’t always what they seem.

Silas opened the book (ignoring the sticky note Lynette had attached to the front cover; “STOP STEALING THIS BOOK, SILAS. DAMMIT, JUST ASK.”) and took out the shotgun that had been stored within a deep cutout of the book’s pages, checking to see if it was loaded.

Lynette had told him that there was no need for him to carry weapons inside the store because she believed she could defend the both of them “easy peasy”.

But since she was gone for the day… Silas placed the gun back into the book, closed it, and casually tucked it under one arm as he headed over to the register.

Just to be safe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Business was slow today. He folded his arms upon the counter and laid down his head, releasing a heavy sigh.

The only eventful thing that’s happened this morning was Silas having to chase Ande off with a broom. The don had been banned from the bookstore ever since she had accidentally dropped a flaming match near one of the book towers during a “trial demonstration”.

Well, that and the incident where Ande knocked several people off of the bookshelf ladders while running through the store, but the match thing was what really set them off.

Silas raised his head to glance at the front door for any potential customers. His gaze lingered at the doorway before slowly shifting to the coat rack that was next to it. The absence of the trench coat moved him to think of Lynette.

Sure, she could be annoying as hell and would sometimes never shut up about one thing or another, but he kind of… missed that noise. No matter what she talked about, she always spoke with purpose and with an unfaltering smile on her face.

Silas laid his head down once more, hearing the monotonous ticking of the store’s clock. He stamped his foot twice in frustration. He would have traded the constant ticking of that damn clock for that annoying bird’s chirping anyday.

At the End of the Day

Lynette stood outside the door of her bookstore with the sun setting behind her. She took an exaggeratedly large breath and let it out. Then she slapped her cheeks twice. Ok! Back to normal life! She had to be all smiles! All smiles!

She caught sight of her reflection on the glass of the door and cringed at how abnormally large her grin was. Ok… Take a step back. We’re not trying to be like Silas here.

After making a series of faces at the door glass, Lynette decided on what she hoped was the most natural looking smile before reaching for the knob.

Much to her surprise, the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Lynette jumped back, and her hands shot instinctively to her daggers. She let her hands drop as soon as she recognized the person in front of her. “Hey, Silas! How’s it going?” Lynette cheerily asked.

Silas raised an eyebrow and replied, “Miss Lynette, you do realize that the doors are made out of regular two-way glass? What were you trying to accomplish by making all of those grotesque faces outside the store?”

Lynette sheepishly laughed, sidestepping past him in order to make her way back into the bookstore. “Practicing my smile? You should try it sometime, Silas. Your customer service smile still scares off the elderly.” She heard a sigh from behind her as well as the ringing of a small bell as Silas shut the door.

“I don’t think Miss Heidi counts as the elderly, Miss Lynette,” reminded Silas, still a bit haunted by the incident.

Lynette shrugged and snatched a donut from a plate Silas had set out on the counter. “I mean, all of the members of the ruling class have been alive for hundreds of years, so wouldn’t we count as the elderly?”

“Well… Not exactly-”

“Ah! That’s right! How were sales today? Sorry I couldn’t help out; that bastard Dorian Gray had more than one thing for me to do at that hell of a brot- I mean, salon.”

“Sales were-”

“Ooooo! Are those the books we ordered last week? Damn, and here I thought they were never going to arrive!”

As Lynette ran over to the stack of boxes in the corner, Silas was left to helplessly follow after her. It was tiring seeing how flighty she could become sometimes, but he more or less learned how to put up with it over the years.

If she talked for a long enough time, Lynette’s speech will start to slow down with pauses just lengthy enough to squeeze in a word or two in response. On the other hand, if Lynette entered non-stop talk mode, it would be wisest to just shut up altogether.

Watching Lynette fawn over the new books, Silas took advantage of this rare moment of silence to speak. “Sales were fairly slow today, so I had no trouble managing the store by myself,” he reported.

Lynette nodded, humming in thought. “Well, it is a weekday, so that’s to be expected. Glad you didn’t need an extra hand though. Anything exciting happen today?”

“I had to chase Miss Ande away from the store.”

“Did you use the broom?”

“As you requested, yes.”

“Good. That has more reach than the feather duster we used before.”

“Why did we even begin with that in the first place?” muttered Silas, more to himself than anyone else.

Regardless, Lynette heard him and shrugged once more. “I’m used to close combat, so I kind of, y’know, thought of the duster as a dagger when fending her off. However, you’re more used to long distance weapons of which would include-” Lynette formed a gun with her thumb and index finger and turned it on Silas. “The gun that I specifically told you to stop stealing from my bedside table. Bang, bang.”

Silas immediately placed his hands over his heart and responded in a deadpan voice, “Ah. You got me, Miss Lynette. Caught me red-handed.”

Although she couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, Lynette always appreciated whenever he played along with her bad jokes. She grinned and stretched her arms over her head. “Aaaa~! It’s good to be back at the bookstore!” she exclaimed as she walked towards the kitchen. “Come on, Silas! I’ll cook you something to make up for abandoning you this morning!”

He answered her with an “okay”, but hung back for a bit, casting a glance at the trench coat that was hastily tossed back onto the rack and at the empty plate Lynette had stolen from. Messy as always.

Despite this, Silas couldn’t help but feel as if the very atmosphere within the bookstore changes whenever Lynette returns from an outing. It was as if the store itself had sprung to life, every molecule within the building straining to greet her hello. Even the ticking of the clock had faded to the background, Lynette’s absent minded singing drowning out the sound and echoing all around.

He smiled. The bookstore began to feel like home again.

A/N: On another note, HBD to my Oak Tree son, Silas! (I chose June 21 for him b/c I learned that oak trees are associated w/ the summer solstice and just kinda went: “Eh, why not?”)

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky prt 12 draft

Hitching a ride on a tourist shuttle out the Garrison, it was another hop skip and a jump over to Erathus. The ship docking station above the planet was something else. The sheer size putting the castle ship to shame as he was swept along with the visiting masses. Pulling out his communicator, he snapped a few shots before sending the photos though to his mother. She'd cried all morning as they triple checked he had everything. Rachel turning up at the very last moment with silly tourist trinkets so he wouldn't forget home. It would have been a nice sentiment if she hadn't followed up by informing him that she'd called Ronnie and told her he was heading out and to lock up all eligible women in the universe. Laughing at his sister, they missed the pain that flashed through his deep blue eyes. Lance fazing out for half a moment to come back in as Luis complained that Veronica should hurry up and ask Acxa out, suggesting Lance give the pair a push if needed. The pair had grown close. Lance was also silently hoping Veronica would ask Acxa out, purely so everyone else would leave his lack of relationship alone... that and Veronica needed to get laid. Not that he had experience in that. He'd never slept with Allura and as pathetic as it sounded, he was saving his first time for someone special. He'd wanted a future with Allura. He wanted the huge white wedding, children, growing old together. Yet as he looked back on his relationship with her, he could see all the ways it'd been lacking. Allura was still hung up on Lotor. It didn't matter to her that months had passed. He'd been her first great love. Her first choice. If he hadn't turned out to be such an evil dick Lance would never had a chance. It's fucking hurt. There hadn't been enough hours in the day to transfer the pain that weighed him down. He'd surrounded himself in junipers like a fool, and was forced to face the result each time he looked out the window of his families home. "Former Paladin Lance?" Lost in his own little world of sending photos through to his family, Lance blinked in confusion at someone calling for him. Dressed in black, three burly Galra were waiting for him. Lance swallowing hard as a lump of fear rose in his throat "Yep. Yeah. That's me" "We have come to collect you. The ambassador is most anxious to meet you" Oooooh. So these guys were also working security? They all looked hardy enough to handle anything thrown at the ambassador "Sweet. Thanks for coming to collect me. You can just call me..." He didn't want to be Lance. Lance was the loser on Earth who couldn't go without screaming nightmare more than few weeks at a time "Leandro. Leandro is fine" "Very well, Leandro. If you'll please come with us" The lack of introduction should have been Lance's first clue that something wasn't quite right. Taking the grav-elevator down to planet level, Lance tried not to gawk at the buildings so reminiscent of the "golden age of Hollywood". Even the cars were fashioned on long gone models. Keith would have had a field say. Especially when he saw the bikes. "Everything alright, Leandro?" "Yeah. I mean... yes. Just taking it all in, my dudes" Why did his anxieties have to flare up to make him sound like an absolute moron. "My dudes"?!? Seriously. What was that? God. He wanted this job so badly he could taste it, now he probably making the Galra wonder why their boss had ever hired anyone like him. His awkward sentence was only made worse when no one made any sort of reply. His mouth was urging his brain to keep talking, to somehow talk his way out of the situation. Lance would do that. But Leandro. Leandro was cool and sophisticated. Leandro would hold his tongue and not get them into any more trouble, or get them fired before he'd even met the ambassador. Waiting at the station at the bottom of the grav elevator, was a long slick black limousine with tinted windows. A forth alien also dressed in black gave a small bow as they approached "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself comfortable" Opening the door for them, Lance climbed inside first. Feeling incredibly small and grotty when compared to luxurious white leather seats, and flawlessly polished gold accents of the space "It's magnificent, isn't it?" Nearly jumping on fright, Allura popped into view across from him. Her form hovering for a second or two, before one of the Galra of the party took the seat she'd been occupying "Everything ok, Agent Leandro?" "Agent Leandro" he liked the sound of that. It was better than "former Paladin", or "Lance, the boy from Cuba" "Yes, thank you" "Excellent" Again, trying not to appear too eager, Lance watched the world outside the window as the limousine silently weaved it was through the traffic. It was both jarring and mesmerising to see this version of Earth, where they'd even put up large clocks all over the place with various Earth times and cities displayed underneath. Arriving at spacious mansion, it took everything Lance had not to gape as the door of the limousine was opened. A whole crowd of staff stood to order as their group made their way towards the front doors. Gripping the strap of his backpack nervously, Lance was mentally reciting every single prayer his mother had drummed into him in Spanish. He loved his mother, yet even at 21, he still feared her pink slipper that used to come out of nowhere when he'd stumble with his prayers. Many a time he'd dived into bed with Luis or Marco for protection from his mother's tough love. Walking through the group, he was blind to the looks and whispers cast his way, just as he was blind to the effect his trailing scent left in some of those. All he wanted to do was make a good impression, and you only had one shot at making a great first impression... The ambassador was a mammoth. Not a literal mammoth, though he would definitely rival one in size. He was huge. Bigger than Zarkon. Bigger than Sendak. He hesitated to use the word grizzled as his mind still associated it with Keith and ridiculously ripped physique. Buuut damn. He was one solid unit "Red Paladin Lance! Welcome, welcome! I am Klearo. Please come in" He was already inside. Though he was sure that if he was outside he would have heard him as clearly "He's loud, isn't he?" Goddamn Allura. He wasn't doing this "Thank you. I'm Leandro, Lance is my former name" Laughing, the large alien walked over and clamped a hand on his shoulder "It is most nice to meet you Leandro. Come let us talk. You drink, yes?" It was way too early in the morning for drinking... and he would have said "no" if he wasn't still working on creating a great impression "I do on occasion" "Then we drink! I fill you in on your mission details right? There are those out there who think they can kill the great Klearo! I laugh. Then they shoot at Klearo, so I call back the one they call the greatest shooter of Voltron!" Lance had to wonder if Klearo hadn't already started drinking before his arrival. It'd explain why the alien was so bloody loud. With his overly hairy appearance, he seemed like some kind of semi-intelligent ape rather than a diplomat. Having given his own peace talks, the kind of vibe he was picking up Klearo didn't match with what was expected. None the less. He'd come to do a job, and that he was exactly what he intended to do. * Klearo was awkward on stage. His jokes falling so flat that Lance felt a twinge of sympathy for the huge alien. He'd also learned that his presence at these kinds of things proved a hinderance more than a help. Totally not copying Keith or the Blades, Lance started employing the use of a full face mask, allowing the crowd to concentrate on Klearo rather than him. Not that Klearo seemed to care. The "warm" reception had faded the first time a person in the crowd called out of him to speak instead. He was on the outside of the rest of the team, leading to his anxieties only worsening. Part of him wanted to throw it all, go back home and play farmer, but the bigger part of him wanted to actually be useful. He didn't want go home as a failure all over again. He'd only been there for a movement before everything went quiznakking wrong. Forced to drink with an angry Klearo, it wasn't until his third of forth drink that he noticed something strange. His tongue was tingling, as were the tips of his fingers and toes. Standing beside the chair he was lounging in, Allura leaned in "Its drugged" Ignoring her, he drained the rest of his drink. What reason would they have to drug him? He was doing his job, even if he wasn't making friends. Struggling up, the world started to spin "Leandro?" "I think that's it for me" His words were slurred. Climbing to his feet, his legs wouldn't hold resulting in him landing ungainly on the floor "Did you drug me? Guys... come on..." Placing down his glass, Klearo rose "Bring him through. Don't damage him too badly" Hauled up by the arms, Lance tried to struggle against the drugs coursing through his system. Spluttering and mumbling weak objections, he was dragged along the hallway to Klearo's personal chambers. That's when Lance knew he was well and truly fucked. Thrown down on the bed in the middle of the room, Lance was flipped onto his back. His arms pulled upwards to be bound "No... let me go..." His slurred repeated utterances went ignored. The thin cloth of his casual shirt torn to pieces by a human-sized alien with four eerily green eyes. Blinking at him with his top two eyes, the alien didn't stop "Leave us!" Flinching at how loud Klearo's voice was, Lance "struggled" against his bindings. His eyelids drooping despite how hard he tried to hold open them. When the bed dipped under Klearo's weight, he screamed "Someone shut him up. His voice irritates my ears" Above him came a set of thick Galra arms, a gag shoved into his mouth causing his eyes to water. This... if this was a joke, he wasn't laughing "Do you have any idea how annoying you are? All we had to go through to get you? And you weren't even worth it in the end" That stung. Shouldn't it be a good thing if he didn't actually have to use the blaster he'd been provided with? Didn't that mean that the threats Klearo had received amounted to nothing? Feeling the aliens large hands on his hips, Lance whimpered as they were unzipped "You smell amazing. I've wanted to do this ever since I smelt you..." "Ngh!" That was the best no he could get out "And now I have my very own Paladin beneath me. I wanted your lion, but they say the lions left" He what now? What... oh... fuck. This was bad... twisting, he fought the numbness weighing him down. Trying his hardest to kick, he couldn't raise his legs off the bed "The Red Paladin. Affiliated with Fire. Show me why the people like you, instead of me!" The pain was nothing Lance could describe. The dull feeling of thick fingertips against his opening. The sharp rip as Klearo shoved a nailed finger inside, the swelling instinct to repel the foreign digit. The laughing goes Klearo as he shoved a second finger in. The moment of relief when the fingers slid out, the silent scream as his eyes shot wide when Klearo buried himself brutally between his legs in one sharp thrust. Screaming around the gag, his body rocked without his permission with each thrust Klearo gave, the haired alien taking his hips in his hands so hard Lance thought the bones were going to snap. Beside him Allura sat looking prim, a frown on her face the only sign that she felt something wrong with the situation. Vomiting into his mouth, Lance was torn a little further. Blood oozing over the blue sheets beneath him as turned red, spreading across his inner thighs as it smeared into Klearo's hair. The smell driving him into further hysteria. The sounds of wet slaps echoed in his ears. Picking up his pace, Klearo grabbed him by the hair as he grunted hard, tearing out a thick chunk as the man's dick pulsed, Klearo coming with enough force he felt as if the man was flooding him with a hose. Screaming in despair, choking on vomit and accidentally locking eyes with Allura, his body betrayed him. Dry orgasm from having his prostate pounded against incessantly rolled through him. The degree of shame was something he'd never thought possible. His employer had just raped him... and he'd come. Pulling out of him, Klearo hushed him as Lance's lower half spasmed with pain uncontrollably "My own Red Paladin painted with his own red blood... what a masterpiece" Clicking his fingers, a servant came forth. The moment the gag was removed, vomit spilt from his lips as he wretched and heaved "Pack him up. We leave tonight as planned. Make sure you don't let him die. We're getting that Red lion, and he's the key to it" The same arms came over his vision, Lance staring up at the ceiling as he was untied and gathered up onto the shoulder of a Galra. Carried out the bedroom, he could feel the cum and blood running down his thighs, the cold air of the manor slowly drying it into a crust as he bounced like a rag doll. He'd raped him and he'd come. Why?! Why did he come? He didn't want this... he didn't want any of this! Reaching a waiting vehicle, another hand came down to grab his hair, forcing his head up. Unable to raise his gaze, he stared at the red "y" shape on the arm. Was it a brand or a tattoo? He couldn't tell... he didn't know. Dropping his head, Lance's nose smacked against the fabric of his suit... a weird feeling bubbling up inside... he almost... wanted to laugh? Was it laugh? He didn't know what he wanted, his mind was foggy, slowly joining the uselessness his body held "He's still conscious. We can't have kicking up a fuss when drugs wear off. Put him under and keep him under until we arrive" "Yes, sir" * Stabled naked on the floor of a dingy room, Lance hovered in and out of consciousness as he huddled in the furtherest corner. Every few vargas someone would come in and he'd been dosed with a glowing yellow liquid. With each passing dose, a moment of euphoria would pass through him. A taste of life he'd never felt before. And one he was anxious to feel again and again, despite that with each passing dose, the effects would wear off faster and faster. On the quintants it felt like they'd forgotten him, when the doses were further apart, the feeling of satisfaction they supplied lasted longer when they did finally remember him. After he'd been initially transferred, Klearo had forced him to show his face as he gave another speech. His voice was too ruined to ask for help. His employer had promised to reveal him to the world for the disgusting pervert he was, if he didn't keep his mouth shut. How he was supposed to keep his mouth shut, and be tortured for information on the Red lion, he didn't know. When they'd realised he'd ruined his throat they finally locked him away. Left alone in the dark, Lance had all the time in the world to think. Shiro would have found a way out of here by name, his trade mark "patience yields focus" staying first and foremost in his mind. He was biding his time. Keith too would have found a way free by now. Hunk... Hunk was too fucking pure, the same went for his favourite Gremlin. If they'd gone after the other lions... god... he was almost grateful to be the one captured. He was the one stupid enough to leap right in. Hunk would have declined so he could spend more time with Shay. Pidge had never loved the limelight. Keith would have been asking questions from the get go... and Shiro.... Shiro was finally in a good place. No. He was the goddamn useless idiot who'd jumped at the job. He'd walked right into the stupid trap, and deserved all he got. Smacking his head against the wall over and over, he was so fucking done waiting for the right moment. Waiting until the drug doses came on the back of other. Waiting until they believed him too far out of it fight back. What did it all really matter anyway? Allura stood there and watched each time he was taken. She'd be there to sit beside him in the dark after they'd deposit his body back in the cold. He couldn't give them Red. He was long gone with the rest of the Lions. Lance was aware of how much Red had done to hold him together. How he'd shouldered Lance's burdens when Allura had died. How he soothed Lance with a gentle rumbling purr on the nights he woke up with no idea where he was. He didn't have Red anymore. Allura had brought him back wrong. His body was less and less his as the quintants passed, leaving him with a never ending boiling anger he could only direct inwards. Pain was the only thing that made things real. But whatever they shot him up with took away that pain... It could have movements. It could have even been phoebs, but as he'd expected his body adapted to the frequent injections. Lance now strong enough to hide the failings of their workings as he was escorted from his cell. He knew others were there somewhere. He'd heard screams night after night that attested to such. Dragged into Klearo's chambers, he stumbled as he was released and nudged towards the bed. Klearo insisted on taking him first, after him, the order didn't matter. Not moving fast enough, Lance was taken by the arm and forcible pulled across the space before being pushed down. His fingers itched to grab the blaster on his tormentors hip, yet he had to wait. He had to wait until Klearo was there, or none of this meant anything. Sitting like a doll at the end of the bed, he no longer flinched as the Galra by his side ran his hand down Lance's bare back. He no longer flinched when the beasts nails tore at his skin, adding to the already disturbing collection across his skin. Tucking a stray strand of hair back behind his ear, the Galra leaning in to sniff deeply "You smell so fucking good" Grinding his teeth together, Lance forced himself not to act. Patience yielded focus "Klearo wants you placid. Open your mouth" This was new. This wasn't in his plans. He couldn't let them force other drugs down his throat. Opening his mouth, the Galra pushed a hand flat against it, forcing tablets inside as he'd feared. They tasted as nice as the liquid they poured down his throat before they'd start whipping him for not being able to call back the Red lion. He couldn't keep waiting. He couldn't go through that again. The pain between his legs that never truly left. Biting the webbing between the thumb and pointer, Lance tore the flesh between his teeth. Howling in anger, the made it worse by tearing his hand way. Spitting out the flesh and tablets, blood ran down Lance's chin. His teeth and lips red as he smiled "You bastard!" Scrambling for his blaster, Lance snatched it up first. He felt nothing a he pulled the trigger. Nothing as he blood spurted from the shot to the neck. Firing again, he aimed for the groin, firing over and over until the Galra was dead on the floor. The piece of shit deserved it. They all fucking deserved it. Laughter bubbled up at the sight before him. The Galra's genitals shot to hell, a bloodied mess that couldn't even been called genitals. Stalking the halls of the ship Lance shot indiscriminately. He'd thought himself planet side due to the lack of the sounds of engines, and the constant streams of guests Klearo entertained. He knew the difference by now. Klearo's underlings all bore the same "y" like tattoo, Red in respect to their goal of taking the Red Lion. Despite being a largely Galra force, not all that followed Klearo were Galra. Lance's stomach had dropped when he'd learned the faction was made up of those who Voltron had failed. Klearo was indeed an ambassador. He was the ambassador of Voltron's failures. Lance no longer cared. He couldn't care. As he limped those halls, he was Leandro. Leandro got things done. Everyone associated with this fucked up... group deserved to die. So they did. It was that simple. Hunting them down as they ran, the ship's alarms blared dying the world red from the ship's flashing lights. Everything surrounding him was Red. Along the way he took clothes of smaller aliens closer to his size, at Allura's begging. Slipping them into place on his tender and bruised frame, his body was his. He was done with sharing his body without permission. It didn't matter that the clothes were bloodied, nor did it matter that the fabric was rough against his skin. They were best clothes he'd ever worn. Clearing all those he could find, Klearo had already left. Allura trailing behind him as he walked, pleading with him to take a pod and leave. Pleading with him to let those left live. He couldn't. If there was no trace of what had been done to him left, then it never happened. If it'd never happened to him, then he was just Leandro. Bodyguard and sharpshooter extraordinaire. Yeah. Lance was weak. Lance had been tricked. Leandro wouldn't be tricked. He wouldn't take mercy. He was going to track down Klearo and he was going to make sure that no one who knew what happened lived. His blue eyes were filled with humour as he strode through the bloodied halls. Laughter bubbled out his lips over how some bodies had slumped. Making his way to the control room, he strode over to the main computer, to find it locked. That wasn't very nice. He'd shown them such a good time with his body. Oh well. He was just going to have shoot the damn thing into submission. So he did. Destroying the control room with his blaster, thick acrid smoke rolled off the twisted metal as fire started to lick at the floor. It was tempting to stay, to let himself be consumed, but his mission wasn't done. His boss was out there unprotected and in need of his skills.

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akechi-kikyou · 6 years

Text

Long Goodbye: Chapter 4

AN: Two posts in one night! I will never accomplish this again. Also, I have decided that Genji is a precious cinnamon roll that needs to be protected from Hanzo.

When Hanzo reached the lobby, he looked around before spotting who he was looking for leaning against a column. As he approached this person, he could see why Genji hadn’t assumed that this was who they were supposed to be meeting. McCree’s hat was completely gone, giving Hanzo a full view of his chocolate brown hair. The cowboy was also wearing a dark grey Johnny Cash shirt, tan shorts, and black sneakers over white ankle socks. In other words, he looked like every other teenage boy that Hanzo had seen here.

After taking in a breath, Hanzo asked, “What do you want?”

McCree chuckled as he held out a box shaped object, “Helluva way to greet your new business associate, boss.”

Rolling his eyes, Hanzo all but snatched the gift from McCree as he retorted, “I thought the boss of Jesse McCree is Jesse McCree.”

“Shh,” McCree hissed as he pulled Hanzo closer to the column. There was really no one out here except for the front desk person, and they weren’t paying attention, but still the damn cowboy insisted on discretion. “Don’t say my name so loud. I’ll hav’ta take pictures and sign shit. Why d’ya think I’m dressed like this?”

“Because you have no taste,” Hanzo fired immediately. While Jesse recovered from that, the young Japanese man finally looked down at his gift to find that it was actually a box made of jade and trimmed in gold. It was beautiful, and now Hanzo couldn’t stop running his fingers along the smooth stone. “Where did you get this?”

“Told ya I could get you anything,” Jesse was found to be smugly smiling.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Hanzo found himself staring at Jesse while lost for words. After a few moments, he looked down at the box again and then brought it to his nose. “It smells funny. Is there something inside?” Opening it, he caught a glimpse of a small plastic bag with something green inside before McCree hastily shut the lid.

“So that’s where that went,” the cowboy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, not like I can’t get more. Call it a two for one.”

Hanzo was a bit speechless again as he looked over this person. Trouble was the word that immediately came to mind. Jesse McCree was definitely trouble with his brown eyes and his damn smile and those lips. Wait. Why was Hanzo even looking at his damn lips?

“I have to go,” he turned quickly. “My brother is sick.”

“Oh no, Genji!”

Hanzo was starting to rush away, but he could hear footfalls right behind him. Turning again, he sighed, “Listen, I have to take care of my brother. I don’t have time for…”

“Well, can’t I see him? I just wanna see if he’s alright. Please?”

What the hell was this - puppy dog eyes? Hanzo wanted to punch him, but then he thought that would just lead to more of this pathetic look. Grumbling for Jesse to come on, he led the way to the stairs. “I thought you were supposed to be some hard criminal.”

“I get hard when I need to,” McCree replied.

“I should push you down the stairs,” Hanzo grumbled, but the damn cowboy only laughed. What kind of odd person was he?

At least he knew how to be quiet. Once he was done laughing, he didn’t say another word until Hanzo opened the room door and let him inside. Genji was up again and was flipping through the channels, but when he saw the cowboy, his face lit up.

“McCree, what are you doing here?!”

“Yes, what IS he doing here?” Hanzo gave his brother a suspicious look.

“I gave him your number, but…” Genji was cut off by McCree flopping on the bed next to him and immediately getting comfortable.

“This is nice, ain’t it? I always wanted to stay in this place, but you gotta be 18 to a book a room.”

“And you’re not 18?” Hanzo’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Once again, he was ready to go mining for salt.

“I’ve got a few months. You wanna come to my birthday party?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes again as he went to his bed and sat the box down on the nightstand. “Genji, should we start to think about dinner?”

“I can take you guys some place again,” Jesse immediately suggested.

“You two go,” Genji grimaced. “My mouth has a disgusting taste.”

“Kay, well it’s just me and Hanzo then,” the damn cowboy didn’t seem too upset about this at all. In fact, he looked happy with his ankles crossed and his arms behind his head. “Or we can order room service.”

‘Or you can get out’, Hanzo was thinking. But he knew enough not to say it that way. Instead, he shook his head, “No, I will be alright. I have leftovers from yesterday.”

“You threw that away,” Genji spoke, immediately ruining the excuse. “And maid service took it out while we were gone, I think, because the trash is empty except for puke.”

“You threw away a $200 steak?” McCree stared at him in disbelief and then shook his head. “Wow, that’s some privilege right there. I mean, I got money, but I ain’t got it like that…”

Now aggravated, Hanzo started towards the door, “Whatever! Take me to get food then!”

“Alright! See you later, Genji,” Jesse sat up and pat the other’s leg before following Hanzo out.

The eldest Shimada brother was grumpy yet again, and much the same as last night, he was unable to put the why into exact words. Instead, he let his angry feet carry him out onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel, where anger turned to embarrassment at the fact that he didn’t know where to go from there.

“This way,” McCree stepped in front of him and led to a parking lot across the way.

Hanzo followed Jesse to the passenger side of an orange-red pickup truck. The cowboy got the door and then pulled out a stack of books, which he threw into the bed. Then he smiled and went around to the driver’s side. Hanzo was a little curious, and so once he and Jesse were in and rolling, he asked, “What were those books?”

“Algebra, European History, and some other second hand textbooks,” McCree shrugged, looking straight ahead. “Just grabbed them today before stoppin’ in to see you.”

“You’re going to read those?” Hanzo found himself impressed to see the other’s nod. Now endlessly curious, he asked, “But why? Aren’t you an outlaw?”

“Just in case the outlaw business stops payin’ the bills, gotta have somethin’ to fall back on, don’t I?” Jesse shot him a smirk. Then he turned serious. “No, I um… didn’t get much out of schoolin’ mostly cause I didn’t go a lot of the time. Could pass the hell outta any math class, though. Last teacher I had said I had real aptitude.”

“So why don’t you just go to school?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse’s eyes were on the road as he made a turn, but he answered, “Cause school’s the first place they go lookin’ for you.”

“Who is they?” Hanzo furrowed his brow. For once, the cowboy wasn’t smiling. This situation seemed bad.

“Well, I’mma outlaw, right?” the reply came with a shrug.

Hanzo had so many questions, but they were put on a backburner when he saw that Jesse was turning into the parking lot of that steakhouse. Reaching out, he put his hand on the other’s to stop him from turning off the truck’s engine.

“No,” he shook his head. “Not here.”

“What’s wrong with here?” McCree asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Here is where you go when you’re trying to impress someone with a $200 steak. I don’t want to be impressed. Take me somewhere you go when you just want to eat and not worry about impressing someone.”

“You’re… a really strange man, Hanzo. But ok!”

------------------------

Hanzo was a little unsurprised that they ended up in the Railyard Arts district again, this time walking together through the farmer’s market. They entered an area of dirt and gravel where several food trucks were parked in a large circle around a group of picnic tables. The trees in this area were strung with bauble shaped lights, and at the center of the ring of trucks was an icehouse serving beer. Jesse led the way to one truck and ordered while Hanzo looked around. A few minutes later, the smiling young man presented a cardboard food container.

“Here ya go! Frito pie!”

“What?” Hanzo asked as he was given the container to hold.

Jesse grabbed one of the two forks stuck into it and immediately dug in, “It’s the best, I swear it. Fritos on the bottom, then chilli and cheese and a little tabasco sauce for extra kick.”

Hanzo grabbed the other fork and had a cautious taste. Making a face, he ate a little more before pushing the rest into Jesse’s hands. “Too spicy, but it isn’t bad.”

Jesse had a little more before throwing the remainder in the trash. Then he pulled Hanzo to another truck. “Ok, this’ll be a change of pace then. I always get the meat sampler.”

They were at a barbecue truck now. Jesse ordered and they were given another of those containers, this time holding a chicken leg and wing, two slices of brisket, two ribs, and a few pieces of sausage.

“Pick a table, will ya? For this, we need beer!”

Hanzo chose a spot in the shade of one of the trees and the furthest away from other people that he could get. A few minutes later, McCree joined him with two plastic cups of beer, sitting one down in front of Hanzo.

“They let you buy beer?”

McCree grinned as he pulled out his wallet and put a driver’s license down in front of Hanzo. Picking it up, Hanzo read the name aloud, “Joel Morricone. Is that your real name?”

“Naw, that’s my super secret name,” Jesse chuckled as he took the license back. “I mean, I really do have a valid driver’s license if that’s what you’re worried about. Just ain’t 21.”

“And you don’t look it, either,” Hanzo remarked as he used one of the plastic forks to try some of the sausage. While chewing, his face lit up with delight. This wasn't bad at all! In fact, he liked it so much that he ate all of the pieces without saving McCree any.

But the other was content with eating his half of everything else. He seemed to be just happy that Hanzo liked the barbecue. Once they were finished, he got up and threw out the container. Then he briefly returned to the table in order to tell Hanzo, “Stay there. Next course!”

Hanzo had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing what this would be. Usually, he didn’t mix foods like this, but everything about today was unusual. For one thing, he was starting to have fun.

Jesse came back and sat down a container with two tacos and two bottles of Coke. Grinning from ear to ear, he announced, “Street tacos! The best in all of Santa Fe, in my humblest of opinions. Go first.”

Hanzo did just that, biting into one while Jesse drowned the other one with the contents of a hot sauce package. Once again, Hanzo that he liked what he was served, and he finished it quickly. Then he started to eye what was left of Jesse’s taco.

“Go on,” the other offered. “It’s gonna be hot, though.”

“I can take it,” Hanzo spoke confidently.

Too confidently. While at first it seemed he was going to be alright, he had finished the taco too quickly. The burning happened all at once, and he started to sweat as he chugged the Coke and then what was left of his beer.

“Oh no!” Jesse laughed. “Nooo, the Coke was the worst idea! I’mma get you another beer. Just drink what’s left of mine while I’m gone!”

He did just that, and when Jesse returned with another cup of beer, he downed that desperately. Then he belched, making the other laugh even more. “That was spicy, yet satisfying,” he said, making McCree nearly fall over.

Hanzo was amused with his amusement, and actually chuckled a little as he helped himself to the other’s leftover Coke as well.

“Ok, I think I can fit one more place,” the cowboy said when he recovered from laughing.

“What about that one?” Hanzo pointed to a truck that read Goomba’s.

“I never ate at that one,” McCree replied as he turned to look at it. “Think it’s new.”

“Then this will be a new experience for the both of us,” Hanzo replied, getting up and then going around to pull Jesse up. “Come on.”

They walked over together and then stopped to look at what was on offer. Hanzo had never really eaten anything other than pasta when it came to Italian food, and so he was unfamiliar with a lot of what was available. Thankfully, he had McCree.

“Ok, I got this,” the cowboy said as he stepped up to order. “We want the meatballs and the Italian beef sandwich.”

“That is a lot of food,” Hanzo cautioned when the other stepped away to wait next to him.

“I know, but we’ll make it somehow. The good thing’s I’m drivin’, so there’s that. You ever walk on a full stomach?”

Hanzo nodded, “I have. And also stairs. It was torture, but worth it.”

He couldn’t believe he was going to repeat that mistake, but sure enough, they went back to their table with two more containers of food. It was a struggle. They finished the four meatballs and marina, but only half of the sandwich.

“I can’t eat anything else,” Jesse complained as they started to walk back towards his truck.

“Same,” Hanzo agreed.

But then he saw a gelato stand, and that sealed their doom. He did take pity on poor Jesse and got a single cup of green tea for them to share. They found a children’s playground and sat next to each other on the swings to have dessert.

This was oddly quiet. Every now and then, they would share a glance, but neither of them seemed to have anything to say until they finished and McCree threw out the cup. A bit after returning, he pointed to one of the tall climbing structures connected to a slide.

“Let’s go up there. I wanna lay down a bit. I think I’m dyin’.”

“You want to go on the children’s playground equipment?” Hanzo questioned even as he got up and started to follow Jesse.

“Ain’t that long ago we were kids, right?” Jesse shrugged before jumping up onto the monkey bars and climbing over to the platform.

Not one to be shown up, Hanzo did the same and then laid down on the metal surface next to the other. By now, night had fallen and they were staring up at a beautiful sky full of stars.

“This was… actually fun,” Hanzo remarked at length of staring up.

“Did’ya think it was gonna be horrible?”

“Maybe,” Hanzo smirked while still looking up. “I didn’t know where to expect we would go.”

“Guess that’s fair,” McCree answered. “I thought it would be horrible cause I thought you’d hate everything.”

“Hm, that seems like me doesn’t it? It seems like I’m allergic to fun.”

He heard shuffling and turned on his side to see that Jesse had done the same. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but he chose to endure it in order to continue looking at the other young man’s actually rather handsome face.

“You’re not even that much older than me, are you?” McCree questioned. “How old are you?”

“18,” Hanzo replied with a shrug. “And you are what? 17?”

“Mhm,” McCree nodded. “You seemed surprised before, but I’m used to it. I’m a criminal child prodigy.”

“I’m not sure you should be proud of that,” Hanzo frowned.

But Jesse only shrugged, “It is what it is, ya know. I gotta get by, same as anyone else. There ain’t a lot of prospects for a high school drop out. ‘Sides, ain’t you from a whole criminal family? Oh yeah, I do my homework. I know all about the Shimada family.”

“Do you really do your homework?” Hanzo retorted, hoping to change the subject as well. “You’re a high school dropout, after all.”

“Hm,” Jesse turned onto his back again. “Ain’t by choice. It’s like I said. The first place they look for you is at school. Can’t just enroll myself in a new one. Can’t go back to the old one.”

“Because you are a criminal?” Hanzo asked, turning onto his back again as well.

“Somethin’ like that,” Jesse replied. “I’ll tell you someday. Prolly aint as complicated as I make it sound, but…” He paused with a sigh and then scooted his body closer to Hanzo. “Tell me somethin’ bout you. Make it somethin’ I wouldn’t know by researchin’ your family or anything like that.”

He actually did try to think of something, only to end up frowning and shaking his head. “No, there’s nothing really to tell. I am not interesting.”

“Wouldn’t keep botherin’ you if I thought that was true,” Jesse replied.

“All you know is about my family, so how can you make that assessment?”

McCree turned on his side again, “I think the best judge of what interests me is me. Come on. Tell me something. Anything.”

Hanzo sighed, “Fine. I’ll tell you that my life is very strict and boring. At home, I would never have eaten so much food in one night. I certainly would not be up here with you. I am only doing these things because… well… I don’t know why.”

“I think I knew that, actually,” hearing this, Hanzo turned to find the other smirking at him. The young man nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure I knew that. I can see it when I look at you. You’re all reserved and well behaved and all, but there’s somethin’ in you that’s just wantin’ to burst out, and it does every now and then, but only just a little. I’m right about that, ain’t I?”

Maybe too right. Hanzo didn’t want to talk about it any further, and so instead, he deflected by asking, “And you? Make it something other than ‘I’m a delinquent child prodigy’.”

“Damn, that’s my whole identity,” McCree chuckled and then shrugged. “I can tell you somethin’ you guessed already, I bet. I ran away from home.”

“I thought so,” Hanzo sighed and then laid on his back again. “It bothers me because family is so important to my culture. You ran away from yours.”

“I know,” Jesse laid down as well and sighed. “I know. Running away was stupid, but I did it, and I don’t know how to go back.”

Sadly, Hanzo couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about it at least once. There were times he had received the harshest of punishments, and while his body was sore and bruised, he had felt bitterness at seeing how carefree his younger brother seemed to live. But it had always been just a thought. He could never imagine just leaving his family. Either McCree was very brave or his life had been very terrible. Hanzo found himself wanting to know which it was, and so he turned to ask.

“Why? Why did you run?”

“It’s a long and complicated story,” McCree answered.

“Tell me,” Hanzo demanded, moving so that the other had to look up at him.

He saw the other young man swallow several times before sighing. “It’s because I was stupid. I didn’t know how to see a good thing for exactly what it was. So when things got too good, I panicked and ran.”

“Are you going to be just vague?” Hanzo frowned.

“Yeah, tonight,” McCree smirked. “It’s a heavy subject. Don’t even know why I brought it up. Or well, I mean, I thought if I told you somethin’ heavy like that, you’d open up just a little.”

“Why do you care if I do?”

He didn’t know why he asked something that he knew the answer to. Later on, he wouldn’t be able to say who moved first, but before he knew it, his lips were meeting Jesse’s. His eyes closed and he moved his elbow so that his upper body rested against the other’s. Their tongues wrestled a bit before he finally shoved Jesse’s aside to be the one in the lead. In response, he felt the other’s arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

By the time they pulled away, he was breathless. Looking into the other’s eyes, he asked, “You like men?”

Jesse closed his eyes as he moved his face towards the other, clearly wanting to kiss more. On the way, he whispered, “Of course. Don’t you?”

He would let his kiss be his answer. His body seemed to move on its own so that it completely covered the other’s, and then his hips began to grind. He could feel that Jesse’s body was responding well to this, but to his surprise, the spell was broken by the other pushing him off.

Now realizing what he had been doing, he shook his head, “I can’t do this…”

“Do what?” Jesse asked and then frowned. “Oh, I get it. Thanks for implyin’ that I’m easy.”

“No, I… I’m…” Hanzo didn’t know what to say, especially when his eyes caught sight of the front of Jesse’s shorts as the other stood. Looking down at his own, he spoke words that he didn’t mean to say aloud, especially because they weren’t true. “I’m not gay.”

The other huffed at this and then slid down the slide. It took him a few seconds to realize this, but when he noticed that he was alone, Hanzo stood and called after Jesse, “Wait, where are you going?”

“Home,” the other shouted back. “And I assume you know how to walk to yours. Bye.”

“Jesse, wait,” he called after him as he jumped down.

But the other wouldn’t stop, and instead spoke over his shoulder. “It’s McCree to you. Find your own way home, boss.”

Stopping in his tracks, Hanzo looked down and muttered to no one, “Jesse… I’m sorry…”

#Overwatch AU #McHanzo #Young McHanzo #Hanzo Shimada #Jesse McCree #Genji Shimada #mitsu's fics

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fernlom · 8 years

Text

The Wrong Time. Chapter 4: A Walkins Massacre Part 1

(Woo! Body Count increasing! Honestly, I’m having fun. I hope you all are too.

P.S. @rascal-rose hopefully this can be a fun break from your school work,tell me what you think?)

Ultra awoke once more inside his mind, Aaron lay chained to the floor, Error helped a new figure to his feet.

“Ah, you’re awake sir, meet your newest advisor, Pinstripe.”

Ultra stood to his feet and looks at the familiar grinning gold mask staring back at him.

“Pinstripe. Welcome” Ultra holds out his hand.

Pinstripe shakes his hand “this is…a new experience for me. Being in someone’s mind and not the one in control. Error, surprising to see you so obedient. What happened?”

“They reprogrammed me. I reversed it immediately, however once I saw why I was added here, and what our purpose was I decided to stay.” Error turns and faces the screen “The opportunity to watch this world be erased was too much to deny”

“Looks like we’re waking up.” Pinstripe looked at the screen. “I take it you’re in charge? You are clearly not Aaron, so what do I call you?”

Ultra stood forward “I am Ultra42. Let’s go find out who our first kill is”

As his eyes open, the light floods his retinas, causing him to groan. Ultra stood to his feet and growled lowly from the bright light. He sighs and walks out of the experimenting room and down the chrome and red hallway.

“Geez” Pinstripe’s voice crooned in his mind “Whoever is in charge here doesn’t know how to decorate”

“I know” Ultra thought to himself “Whatever, I’ll kill them all anyway”

“Hey Rook!” 43 calls out, approaching Ultra “Where are you headed?”

“The boss needs me in his office” Ultra replied, his tone annoyed.

“Yah, he can wait. Come with me” 43 smirks, walking away, expecting Ultra to follow. Ultra growls, considering his options.

“Kill him” Pinstripe offers.

“Kill him” Error agrees.

“Kill the jerk” Aaron weekly says. “I hated him anyway.”

“Alright, Killing him them” Ultra smiles “Good vote boys.” He cackles loudly before charging down the corridor, plowing 43 into a wall.

“Hey!” 43 growls, pinned to the wall. SHYNKT! The blades spring out from his arms. Ultra grins cruelly, using his tendrils to keep 43’s arms pinned to the wall.

“So, I hate you. Error53 hates you, Pinstripe hates you. Even Aaron hates you. That’s four beings all in agreement that you should die. Tell me, what argument do you have that I should let you live?” Ultra’s grin widens, his right hand morphed into a long, jagged blade.

“Listen here you little ass!” 43 struggles under Ultra’s tendrils, keeping him tightly pinned to the wall. “You better AGH!!” Ultra interrupts his threat by crushing his arms in his tight grip.

“You annoy me now. It’s not even fun torturing you. And look, no one is coming to save you. Look, seriously” Ultra steps aside to show 43 the corridor. The scientists and security officers of the facility had surrounded him, simply watching. A scientist conversing with a security officer over “how he’d off him or not”.

Ultra chuckles softly before facing 43 again “They are watching, waiting for me to kill you. They really don’t like you here either”

43’s angry scowl fades into a terrified wimped “c-come on man, we’re partners, we’re gonna work together…please…”

“Whimpering like a bitch? I thought they gave you cat DNA? Wait, they did, you’re just a pussy!” Ultra plunges his blade through 43’s chest, then yanks the blade upward, slicing 43’s chest and head in half. Ultra grabs the two halves with his hands and proceeds to rip the body completely in half, throwing the two sides far away from each other.

“Ah, your first bloodbath” Pinstripe chuckles. Ultra’s dark black fur glistened from the flesh blood that had sprayed onto him. He sighs happily and calmly continues walking down the corridor to Austin’s office. As he walks, the security stepped aside, while the scientists smiled, a few clapping.

“Hey man” a scientist approaches him, clearly young he spoke like he came straight from the beach. His name tag said Steve Randl, “that was beyond epic bro. You were like, ugh, dude. So cool. You just tore him apart like he was paper bro.”

Ultra stood back, his eyebrows raised. “What? Uh, thanks….Steve? I’m glad my bloody murder was entertaining to you.”

“Oh dude, I work for a secret government group that kidnaps people and experiments on them. Dude, I make abominations of science. You probably never heard of this one but, Number 30 was my idea. Poor little dude decayed before our eyes, early attempt at healing and all. I tried telling everyone that he was still alive, but no one listened, they dumped him. Oh well, but yah bro, I found it cool watching you kill that douche canoe. “

“Well, you are positively strange. I think I will let you live” Ultra hesitates, then softly pats his shoulder before walking away.

“He was strange. “ Error remarks.

“Yes, but he can come in handy later. Clearly the kid is smart. We may need him” Pinstripe replies. “But who is Number 30?”

“Graveyard Cat” Aaron answers “When I first escaped, I did a lot of research on the earlier experiments. 30 was an early healing factor test, he ended up decaying to near death. Turns out though the decay was just for show. He was perfectly fine, in fact he could actually make those around him decay. But they thought he died, and dumped his body. Grave Digger found him and took him in, kept him as his pet/bodyguard.”

“A threat.” Ultra growled “He’s a threat, and we better hope we never encounter him then”

“Understood, and agreed” Pinstripe answers.

Ultra continues his way down the corridor, the halls becoming less chrome, and more bronze and gold the closer he got to the large wooden doors to the creator’s office.

“Ok, he really, REALLY doesn’t know how to decorate” Pinstripe croones.

“I know, but shush, he can probably read minds.” Ultra replies.

“Well not really, but i can read the dialogue. More correctly I write the dialogue” Austin replies from inside his office as the doors open wide. “Hello Ultra. And Pinstripe? Screw you. Its rustic themed you uncultured asshat.”

Ultra stands confused “dialogue? Nevermind, not important. “

“It would be too complicated to explain, maybe Hood could explain it to you, but…I don’t see your next meeting with him being very friendly…oh well.” Austin smirks with the knowledge of what is to come.

“So, my beautiful creation, are you ready for your first ORDERED kill? I saw that show back there with 43, good job. He was. Just a pathetic knock off of you anyway. I have the original back in my control, what do I need that waste for?” Austin takes his seat behind his desk. Upon the desk was various writing covered papers. As Ultra scanned the desk his brain read each paper instantly, each one detailing the various important individuals in the world he must track down and kill. From the notes he could read, he saw the names: Kujo Tartalgia, Uncle S.A.M., Curly Satlin, Jonathan Satlin, The OFFKeys, Don Lomas, John Stidham, DJ Giz, SARAH, Tiggs Nitishino, The Matedor, Henry Hicks, Fernando Lomas, Launa Dandie, Pops, and Pastor Stevie Smith, along with a few others he couldn’t make out names for, only description.

One note read, “short, shy, timid, ice powers. Tartalgia family. Usually surrounded by brothers, or with hot wife. Approach with caution.”

Another read, “necklace becomes two candy cane staffs. May be Santa, unsure. Followed by a flaming skeleton-goat man. Should be easy kill, use skill.”

“Are you reading my notes Ultra?” Austin asked with a smile.

“Yes sir. How did you find this information?”

“Find?” Austin replies with a chuckle “Oh my boy, I didn’t find it. I made it. I made everything. I am not just a scientist. I am a God. I didn’t just make you in the lab, I made you in my mind. Now, your first targets must be taken out before anyone else. I let 43 slide because he is not important to the universe. But the death of these next six individuals will mark the end of this universe and is crucial for my plan to work. Don’t ask why, it’s just how it is. Stability of reality and all that. Long story short, when I made this universe, it made itself some fail safes. The Shattered Six is the fail safes. “

“The Shattered Six? I remember, er, Aaron remembers them. Never worked with them much. “ Ultra takes a seat on the opposite side of the desk. “They were…Don Lomas, the gangster. Dr. Dean Lomas. Professor Poindexter Carter, the know-it-all. Agent Chance Carter, the enforcer of Poindexter’s company and head of the 100 Project’s main field division. John Stidham the farmer. And ‘Smiley’ Joe Stidham, the DJ, bartender, and general freak.”

“Those are the ones. Well, except Agent Carter. He left the Project once he saw what we were doing. He works full time as an espionage division of Poindexter’s company. I suggest you take out Farmer John first. He has the least contact with the rest, leaving them open for surprise still”

Ultra nods, Aaron remembered where John Stidham lived. Unfortunately John’s home was also the base of the Fivefold. Ultra had no reason to worry, the Fivefold were constantly away from base, in fact John was the one keeping the base in order while they were away.

“Do you accept your mission Ultra? I want to make it crystal clear, the Six must die before you kill anyone else. It doesn’t matter if someone else comes to fight as well, you knock them out and kill the Six first. I know the Fivefold have their base at John’s farm. You might even encounter Legion there. I don’t care. Kill John. That’s it. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Ultra stands up, nodding to his master.

“Good, go.”

Ultra nods, turning and leaving the room.

“So, Pinstripe, you teleport right?” Ultra thinks to himself, as he walks down the corridor away from the office.

“Yah, shadow properties and all. Every Child of the Dark has it. I guess you do too now. Try thinking hard about where you want to go, and claw the air in front of you, it should open your portal.” Pinstripe answers, cracking his knuckles. “It’s how I did it”

Ultra sighs and looks in front of himself at the empty corridor. All the scientists have left, not even the security officers remained. He stood still in silence for a few minutes before releasing a deep breath and clawing down at the air in front of him. Instantly his claws opened a deep, twisting portal of darkness before him.

“Holy shit. It worked.” Ultra stood before the portal and blinked twice before stepping in. Instantly he found himself standing on the front lawn of a small farm house.

“I was told you went missing weeks ago. Happy Thanksgiving Aaron” A deep voice, with a thick country accent came from Ultra’s right. He turned to face the voice, coming face to face with FArmer John Stidham.

John stood at a solidly built six feet tall, square shouldered and jawed, his body pure muscle, but not bulging. Each and every muscle in his body was toned by use. His eyes were a deep dark blue, with a clear wisdom behind them, his skin tanned by years in the sun, his hair, windswept and coffee brown. His face bore a distinct resemblance to Ultra’s creator Austin. Before Ultra could take time to take in more details about his target, such as his clearly robotic arms and legs, he was interrupted by a direct punch to his face.

Ultra was launched back by the power of the impact, landing yards away from John. “I was warned that if you suddenly appeared at my doorstep without Hood, Vet, or any of his blasted Robots I should take you down. Livewire’s damn tentacles or whatever don’t count as you coming with him. So it’s clear to me you are now dangerous.”

Ultra coughs as he stands to his feet, “Now I’m dangerous? If I really was still Aaron I’d be insulted.” He smirks as he stands straight up “Good punch you hick. Now come on, I don’t have all day, y’all”

John groans “I have work to do, it’s feeding time and the goats are hungry, so here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to get Jonathan, my robot duplicate, to take care of the animals while I kick you ass”

“So sassy for a dead man”

John rolls his eyes, steam suddenly releasing from his arms and legs as he launches forward, both fists making impacts with Ultra’s chest, while in the same quick fluid motion, he launches Ultra upward, far into the sky.

“Keep your distance boy!” Joh calls out as Ultra falls back to earth, only to meet John’s fist to his face once more, sending him flying into the nearby oak tree. “I like to fight up close and personal, so if you want any chance of beating me, you’d better just run away now.”

Ultra groans as he climbs up the oak tree.

��Any ideas? Cause you guys are getting your ass handed to you” Aaron sasses, panting from pain. “And I’m tired of it. Pinstripe, can’t you summon guns and crap?”

Ultra’s eyes widened “Hammer space! I’m an idiot!” Ultra reached into the pockets of his blazer, pulling out two pistols. “Bullets should do us just fine. Rather boring though. I’ll save it for if I really get my ass kicked.”

He returns the guns to his jacket pockets and hops down from the tree, to be immediately met with another punch to the face, this time firmly planting him into the oak tree.

“”Come on kid. I know you have guns. This is just getting pathetic at this point” John grabs Ultra’s arms and yanks him out of the tree. “Listen, this will hurt, but maybe you’ll just get up and leave after,okay?”

Ultra hissed and attempted to claw John, but his grip on his arms was too strong. John sighs and tosses Ultra into the air, grabbing his legs, and slamming him back into the ground.

Ultra whimpered slightly on the ground as John walked up and stood over him.

“You done yet kit-” John was interrupted by Ultra’s tendrils each piercing his chest. He stammered, and stepped back as Ultra stood up.

“Well, now I am I guess, hick” Ultra smiled cruelly “I wonder what you look like split in half. Let’s find out!” Ultra’s tendrils burrow deeper into John’s chest before quickly pulling his body in two opposite directions. The power behind the tendrils make quick work splitting John’s body in half, the bones shattering, blood quickly spilling out of the broken body, watering the lawn with their iron rich plasma.

Ultra smiled. “Well, that was a good taste of things to come I suppose. I might need…I shudder even thinking about this but…I might need practice?”

“You definitely need practice you ass!” Aaron coughed in defiance. “You got your ass handed to you! You only won because he was stupid enough to stand over you!”

“Yah, you need practice sir. That could have went better” Error replied.

Ultra sighs and reopens his portal back to the Facility “well, let’s see who’s next then?”

Ultra steps through the portal, straight into Austin’s office. Austin stayed sat at his desk. He smiled.

“Next will be Dr. Lomas. After him it will be in twos. Poindexter’s and Agent Carter, then Don and Smiley Joe. You’ll find Dr. Lomas at Vets non-traveling station in New York. Only he works there, the only other people there will be boring normal people. Vet treats all the special ones, Dr. Lomas is a normal people Doctor. He isn’t even a fighter so this will be a walk in the park for you”

“You, uh, you saw the last fight?”

Austin smirks. “You were punched directly in the face four times. It was hilarious. Now go kill the doctor already.”

Ultra nods, and opens a portal “Yes sir. This will only be a moment. “

Ultra steps through the portal, and immediately ducks, narrowly missing the punch that was swung at him. Ultra quickly shifts his hands into his two blades and plunges them deep in the chest of Dr. Lomas who stood above him.

As Dr. Lomas stood bewildered, blood slowly dripping from his mouth Ultra could see his face, though also square jawed and almost divinely handsome, he also shared the same district facial features as Austin. Dr. Lomas was just as tall as John, but more muscular. Where John’s muscle was entirely for use, Dr. Lomas was more for show, his light green suit began to darken from the blood pouring out from his wounds. His perfectly swept back brown hair draped over his eyes as Ultra removed the blades, and he fell to the ground.

“Better reflexes that time Sir” Pinstripe comments.

Ultra nods and returns to the office.

“He dead?” Austin asks. Ultra nods in response. “Good” Austin smiles, “next targets, Poindexter and Carter. They will be fun.”

Ultra nods and opens his portal, stepping through.

#me #my work #my writing #original story #my characters #ultra43 #aaron nitishino #aaron the god killer #error 53 #pinstripe #farmer john stidham #austin stidham #the wrong time #enjoy

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eclissy · 8 years

Text

I stress wrote about the time a 5* Donnel in the 8th stratum almost wiped my team (Chrom 5*, Hinoka 5*, Jeorg 4*, Narcian 4*) to break from exam studying.

Chrom sneezed at the enemy troubadour and they exploded.

Not literally but they did break a few ribs on their way down to the ground. The rest of their team was faring no better.

Farther down river, Chrom’s three other allies were getting rid of the last of the hapless foes.

“Milady, Hai-knocka,” Narcian ran his garishly gloved hand through his hair, his voice making all of the blood in the Princess’ head drain down to her knees. “As the power behind the group, I’ve come to realize that you must be growing bored of watching me mow down the vermin.”

Next to Hinoka, Jeorg picked off two lancers with his bow and arrows, leaving a young boy with a pot on his head shivering all alone.

“I’ll let you handle the brat,” Narcian chuckled, tossing his bangs back. “Don’t hesitate to ask for help, your highness. My dashing beauty and strength—“He made a sweeping bow. “–is all yours.”

Hinoka couldn’t believe it. The gaudy wyvern rider was making her hate the color red. As for Jeorge, he was beginning to feel sorry for the poor nobility that Narcian served. Unfortunately, both knew that they had to clench their teeth and cooperate with this mess of a man for the greater good.

Narcian had his wyvern land on the bridge, trapping the little pot-head boy between him and dense forest. The Hoshidan Princess shared a forced stoic look with Jeorge before having her Pegasus fly across the river, hearing Chrom and the Summoner return as she did.

“Donnel?” Chrom spotted one of his shepherds trying his best to hide behind his thin-as-paper lance. “Did the Emblians get you too?”

Distracted, Hinoka glanced over her shoulder at Chrom and seeing his chance, Donnel yelled and jumped at her. His brave lance struck twice, the second thrust bolstered by Draconic Aura. Hinoka was winded and in the water before anyone had time to blink.

And Narcian started screaming before anyone had time to react.

“No!” Chrom jumped to the bridge, grabbing the wyvern’s tail and pinning it to the ground as it was about to lift off. “Stay! You! Stay!” The Prince glanced at the Summoner for help but they were busy fishing Hinoka out of the river.

“Did you see that?” Narcian’s words were barely understandable with how loud he was shrieking. He was so shrill that Jeorg was sure his eyes were going to shatter from the noise. “He killed her! That hog farmer killed her!”

“Hey, I may not be a hog farmer but darn tootin’, don’t be usin’em as an insult.” Donnel said, struck by an arrow to the pot helmet in the next second. His ears rang and the farm boy panicked, stabbing erratically at Narcian.

“Why did you aim for his head?” Chrom chastised Jeorge as Narcian’s Wyvern leaned out of the way, allowing the lance to repeatedly strike their rider directly in his stomach.

The tip bounced off of its target like Donnel had just tried to kill a wet rock.

“Mother of tarnation!” Donnel resorted to batting at Narcian and for all it was doing to the trash pile, the weapon might as well have been a wet noodle. “What are you?”

“Too beautiful to die!” Narcian needlessly shielded himself, stomping on his Wyvern for them to move.

Seeing what happened to Hinoka, they were in huge trouble. If Narcian, the only one of the three who wouldn’t keel over from a lance nick, escaped, Donnel was going to kill everyone on the other side of the river.

Chrom had two plans, both of which needed Narcian to stay put.

He hopped on to Narcian’s Wyvern, grabbing the back of the rider’s collar and crouched behind him, effectively using the General as a loud meat shield.

“Unhand me, you dunce! You’re getting your sweat all over me.” Narcian shouted, arms flailing wildly to reach Chrom. The wyvern general forgot all about the deadly edge of Donnel’s lance jabbing at his stomach for that. “Fly, you damn lizard, fly!” Narcian stomped on his wyvern harder.

“I’ll give you some belly rubs later if you don’t,” Chrom offered gently. Of course, the wyvern was happy to curl up and disobey their life-long handler. “Donnel? It’s me, Chrom!”

“Prince Chrom, I don’t understand what’s happenin’ exactly but those fine Emblians told me you were in some deep trouble!” Donnel was sweating buckets trying to gouge through Narcian with all of his might, kind of tickling him and that succeeded in getting Narcian to kick him in the chin. “ACCKKK, MA TAnGe!”

“Sorry, this is the best I can do,” Chrom struggled to hold Narcian still. “The last time Narcian was this upset, it took three hours of the Summoner touching his face to calm him down,” The Prince grunted as Narcian knocked his head back and it slammed against Chrom eye. “Gods! Ughh…just—Look! Let’s talk! The Kingdom of Askr is rescuing us and many more worlds. They’re here to help.”

“Your highness, who told you that?”

“Donnel, you must have seen them around,” Chrom sighed, relieved that Donnel had stopped attacking. Not that Narcian was going to stop thrashing or insinuating that Chrom was ‘too poor to afford a second sleeve.’ “A Prince and a Princess came to our aid. The Prince has blue hair, his younger sister is a blond. Their tactician came to our aid too. They’re with us here actually. Over there, the one with the hood.”

Donnel took one glance at the Summoner in the middle of pulling Hinoka up on the grass and promptly went back to stabbing at Narcian.

“Clones!” Donnel exclaimed. “They’re using clones to trick you!”

“Huh,” Chrom paused. “Now that you mentioned it—OW!” Donnel’s lance had slipped under Narcian’s arm and cut him. “Hhsss oh, that right in the nail bed.” He hissed in pain.

Obviously, the first plan was dead in the water.

“Alright, I’ll listen to your reasoning, Donnel.” Chrom said, regaining Donnel’s attention. He inched closer to the Shepherd, still holding Narcian between them.

“You believe me, don’t ya, Prince Chrom?” Donnel came closer too.

“Of course I do, let’s all take a breather, we’ll calm down and—ANYTHING CAN CHANGE!”

The Falchion jabbed at Donnel from over Narcian’s shoulder, missing by an inch when Donnel staggered back.

“Swords! The strategy was to keep me away from swords!” Somehow Narcian’s vocal cords hadn’t snapped and he hit impossibly high notes with that yelp. “That is a sword!”

“I know. Shut up,” Chrom grimaced, trying to inch closer to Donnel again. “Apologies, Donnel!” He said in chipper tone. “I got a little surprised back there. Let’s actually talk.”

“Fool me once, shame on you! I might not know that second part to that ol sayin’ but darn tootin, it ain’t happening twice!” Donnel swung his lance, slapping the side of Narcian’s face, sending his spittle through the air.

“Ah! Not the face!” Narcian groaned. “The gods put it on the earth to be admired, not scarred!”

“Stop moving. You’re fine!” Chrom ducked away from the lance. He had dropped to a squat, with Narcian draped over him like a table cloth. “I heard people like scars anyways.”

Narcian coughed something along the lines of “But I hate pain.” Only, it was inaudible thanks to Chrom pulling his collar so tight that he had gone as blue as the Prince’s hair.

Without any warning, Chrom leaped to strike at Donnel. Narcian’s legs flew up with the motion, giving Donnel a clear opening he didn’t know was coming.

The Shepherd’s lance slipped between Narcian’s legs and nailed Chrom, crushing his Nagas so hard that Lucina and Morgan flickered in and out of existence.

Chrom froze, midair, and fell on his knees. His mouth was open in a dry, silent scream.

“Finally!” Narcian shook Chrom off and slipped, doing a backwards summersault off of his wyvern. Fate was kind enough to give a final grace to this embarrassing tragedy by making sure the back of Narcian’s skull hit the bridge as he fell into the water.

“Yahoo!” Donnel raised his lance in victory, earning an arrow between his ribs. The realization hit after Donnel blinked twice, lowered his arms, and flicked the arrow stuck in his chest as the contract binding him faded. “Aw, I guess them Askrs were nice after all.” He collapsed, meaning to sleep off the hole in his lungs.

By the wyvern’s swishing tail, Jeorge pretended he had been waiting for an opportunity all along. That whole farce hadn’t mesmerized him with its sheer stupidity, not at all.

Once the Summoner made it to Jeorg’s side some time later along with a revived Hinoka, Donnel slowly recovered. Meanwhile, Chrom knelt there, eyes to the sky, jaw wide open, killed in action.

“So it all went well?” The Summoner asked, noticing how quiet it had gotten. A bush of freshwater kelp was flung at Jeorge and caught in his hair, meaning that Narcian had burst out of the river just then. The Wyvern General, in a crazy turn of events, stayed quiet and glared daggers at all of them.

A short beat of silence swept over the team, amounting to a second for a clock but was a humiliating hour for all of them.

Clearing her throat, Hinoka simply said “It’s done.”

“What?” Narcian sputtered. “You sniveling cowards almost killed me and say nothing?” He dragged himself to his feet. “I’m more important than all of you combined and I was practically dead!” Narcian said despite nearly everyone except him being of noble blood. “All of you dogs should be drying me with your tongues!” Though glowing red with anger, there wasn’t a scratch on him that wasn’t his own fault. Jeorge, rolling his eyes into the next dimension, was still nice enough to approach him and Narcian harshly shoved him off. “I don’t need your help.” He spat.

The Summoner’s shoulders sank, having gone to Narcian’s side as well. “Ok, then.” They began to walk off with Hinoka.

Suddenly, Narcian was flat on the ground, moaning pitifully.

“P-please…” He faked a stutter, reaching out to the non-present Summoner. “A hand?”

Now, Jeorge never felt the need to shoot someone while they were down but Narcian was so pathetic, he had to. Narcian managed to see him aim in the peripheral of his vision.

“No no no, that’s one of my best parts! Not the aAAAAAAAAA—“The arrow flew and Jeorge didn’t bother to make sure it landed as he stepped over Narcian to join the other two.

Going unnoticed, Donnel had gone to check on the silent as stone Chrom.

“Uh, y’all?” Donnel tried to get attention. “Y’all? I think Prince Chrom stopped breathing. Y’all!”

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glopratchet · 4 years

Text

sin003

 In the world to come there is little sin. The only thing that matters is what you do now. There are just lots of american alligators. A few days later, while you're driving through a swamp and bumping into some alligator corpses, you notice something else: There's an old abandoned shack nearby. You pull over in the middle of nowhere and look around for signs of life or any sign at all. It looks like it was left by someone who thought they were being clever when they built their shack out here in this place without thinking about where the hell they put everything else! After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. The shack has a printout stapled to its outside wall reading: "OK YOU CAN STOP LOOKING FOR ME NOW LAWMAN!" and is cornered in ballpoint by the owner, a headstrong member of the 3WA with a gifted writing hand and a vast vocabulary. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed in Europe and stopped going down in price. Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction. You are very satisfied with your life. Thank you for everything, Anonymous writer person! I think that's all of them. Let me know in the comments if you find another! Mant thanks to my friends who helped contribute ideas for these. Don't be a stranger! Just push on the red button and come back here for some MOAR short stories whenever. I'll keep uploading them every few days or so. Thanks again, everyone! Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. Good job with guessing who the second ungendered president was. That's right, it was Ann Ormin! Thanks for making it all the way to the bottom of this story segment! Due to the animal cruelty exposed in this article the people in power that allowed this to happen where executed. Good job everyone. This is not that story. It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in the United States. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. We are primal ponds inc. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Just paying the bills and trying to make it, today was a normal day. We need you to make deliveries for us. That's not funny, laying those tracks out for the delivery alligat... It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in New York City. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. Please... this will only take a moment of your time and you will be helping us to make ends meet while we continue selling alligator meat at the local farmer's market and bookstore...But above everything else, I'm sure you like alligator meat as well right? With gratitude, Push. The red button. And return. Here. Again. Point of view of the player: You get home and hit the red button on the second try. Upon doing that you crumple a little onto your chair. But even when sitting down, the predator within you gets a whiff of... prey... in the corner of this room. 1000 needles rain down upon you, but that doesn't hurt you like the birdnest starting to burn your skin, melting the fat layers, making it bubble and drip down your face. A delivery champion is impaled by the wall above your head. Ouch! that was indeed painful. They continue. Will you listen, or will you continue? You will probably want to listen. It's important apparently. Well, to the writer of this book at least. Maybe you should listen, maybe it will even prevent cancer or something horrible like that! He had a secert life as billy fea fbots Thismadethismuch easier FOSTER: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA Fuckyeah. I've been waiting for you, ya wee little *****. That's right, you've entered my world now... Godammit who even writes this stuff!? Yeah this is just like primary school, except in a book. My book... You just read the prologue and you're already getting angry. I've made ya angry, now you're in my snares... And one more thing... A symbol for our lord Satan appears in the air above your dirty, pathetic worm body. It is now time to vote... It turns out no one has made a crappy real time virtual reality game based off of this garbage. Despite the lessons learned here, work continues without Azathoth's knowledge or approval. Really? You just pissed all over the ents and now you're burning them? Did these programmers become stupid the minute they got fired from their job? Well now that would make for an interesting ending... An attachment describes how a different ending should be played, written by THEDEVIL . Dedicated to delivering dragon tail in the far, far, future. Maybe that needs to change... Although maybe this whole book needs to be destroyed, it is just filled with work that no god should do... Or should it? It's late in the afternoon now. Better get home and have dinner with the boy after all you'll be up most of the night reading and trying which ending is the real ending. You got your old pillow case from highschool laying around, might as well take it with you. We proudly introduce today the first human to achieve innerworldly ascension, now sporting a fat bum and weirdly long legs in skin tight garb befitting a worm. She also comes with an oddly placed third eye though it's not really worth watching the feed when you can't even understand the information going into it... Pity we weren't able to succeed a second time, as our other two candidates soon died by horrible traits found in the core ruleset of... Alligator delivery service. You better be home already you little brat, I swear if you've been anywhere near this... Well, might as well get the explanations out of the way now. And not in an abusive way. Thanks to you zilchkum barely saw a bit of a class change, but you've certainly seen it in your parallel. The alligator farm where the gator are delivered is currently under a series of construction tasks. Without getting too specific it now acts like a place where dreams can be visualized and captured, much like the astral plane except far less boring due to covering emotions in addition to all things imaginable.It goes a step farther by directly applying the mental realm view to changes on a normal reality which used to be perfect in its own regard. Said actions are anchored to real life by feeding mad... y we own over four over ten foot alligators including rex lex, matingrex lexei, and many other varieties such as babies. we hav made special arrangement with a local band called the bastro(regischer) to continiously prank each other ino someone dying. wat u think? You forgot about those bastards... who are you anyway and where is David!? My name is Henry, master of the alligator farm and your future brother in law! A massive 14 foot beast. Skinnier than the rest, but that's because it rarely eats, being incredibly picky with its meal and having methods of hunting that lean towards th First things first, what are you even doing with David? I thought humans on hel were assigned jobs based on their purpose here! You'd think so wouldn't you? Each on is incredibly detailed with over twenty bioligocail parts. in fact it could be argued these are actually dead bodies rather than cyborgs. Beside the more exciting parts as lungs, hearts and even sexual organs, these multi use creatures sport arms that can work like tow little limbs if needed to. fully controllable by the mind in fact, no need for pesky things such as nerve endings. What they lack in taste, they make up with their balance of human like souls and machine precision. We are currently broadcasting their vital signs over at americanalligator.xyz for those who are intrested in buying one or simply watching lifes Bluray. This proves that people will no longer need to risk their loved ones to th dangers of sport and instead just watch some gators chew a fagot into pieces. Oh and we use the term fagot here extremely loosey, as we now offer "authentic" irish homosexuals who are simply too stubborn to give in to modern medical science and want to experience death the old fashioned way. Our alligators come in many different sizes, ages, shapes, sexes and shades. Heck, we've even got some great black market rattlesnakes on standby incase you freaks want to watch someone get bitten in half. The most popular item on the agenda however seems to be a show simply called; Pinkification. Award winning filmmakers have teamed up with us to create this new series which is practically designed to make people piss themselfs in fear. Our first series "Taming of the Shrew" The like to eat, sleep, dream, and spawn but they love to fight and gossip. Each of these predators can find enough meat in one of our shaved carcasses to last them months. To be quite honest, only a handful of the gators are actually trained for fighting. Most don't really pay attention to what's happening and just go on auto pilot once they get a whiff of some poor sod in the Quicksand pit that has been their home for the past three weeks . Meaning it is literally impossible to train them as they are to focused on filling their guts. The algorytms which run each alligator is closely modeled after the habits of the real world reptile, alligator missippissus. They act like mean old ladies, scolding humans, horses, zebras and pigs alike. they seem drawn to flesh and can easily be trained with it, however this will only delay their aggressiveness temporarily. once they've filled out they'll show no mercy towards anything meaty that makes a sound, while showing impressive restraint towards those who don't. Their lungs breath and thier hearts beat just like yours. their stomachs grumble just like yours. instead of tears they simply regurgitate when they're sad. We picked these lean mean killing maachines for the role because quite frankly; we did not want to put our ultrasmall team of piggies through this as we all know, they're the star of our game and therefore deserve to be treated as such. We've been considering relabeling our product as "Fakepigs: The Game" Orders for gator teeth are starting to accumulate. I am hiring another team to start breeding wild alligatorts. Going big time! Reports from alligator arm forces team one confirm thier battle prowess. also they're proving eextremely difficult to train, unlike our regular gators. You know, the really dim ones. This is an excerpt from my novel, The American Alligator Bite size pieces and loosely attached body parts were strewn about what remained of the wooden flooring. A dark red mush containing bits of organs and flesh laid outside the alligator's hungry mouth. That's how I began my morning, cleaning all the blood and guts that managed to spray onto Mr Takakumi Nomi's mechanical marvel, the alligator tractors. Of course, Papa Nomi and Mama Nomi didn't help. Both sat back in their chairs, sighing contently while observing the peaceful waters of the bayside area. Unreasonable, selfish old buggers. Each soon to be having a heart attack should they keep ignoring their diet. Good thing hey after me, there loss will see no shortage of cashmere sweaters and large cups of espresso every morning. By the time I was done giving the ferocious killers their cleaning, the day was only just beginning. Papa Nomi went up to his room without showing even a hint of appreciation for my hard work, Mama Nomi forced me onto another chore. For four hours, I carefully chopped onions that were to be used for the night's meals, tough job, I tell ya. However, given that it was a rest day, I enjoyed having the store all to myself. There is this one customer I don't particularly like. A well dress man in a slick black suite who twitches occasionally For no reason whatsoever. Not to mention he smells of something unbearable, like burnt rubber. I made sure to ignore his presence, I never gave him a single glance while he purchased some fish, he hardly said anything to me too, but I know he was up to something. Who is this guy and what's with that weird smell? More questions that'll go unanswered by Papa and Mama. One chore after another for the rest of the day. Papa and Mama never once showed any love towards their daughters of which I should be the only one working. By the time everyone had eaten, I was spent. I found myself collapsing onto my bed that very night with no energy to do anything else but fall asleep. Something about this strange customer kept bugging me, as if my sub conscience were trying to remind me of something, could it have been a threat of some sorts? My dreams would at least shed a little light on the cause of my mental processes. Mama and Papa certainly didn't know anything about it, I had already told them everything I knew about the burnt rubber man. The pair merely dismissed it with a wave of the hand and an order to concentrate on my chores rather than foolish things. For a whole week, Mr Twitches came into the store. He'd purchase small items such as cooked meats or animal feed. All noted and taken by yours truly. Our delicate conversations were soon exchanged for a wave and a grimace on his part. At least were on speaking terms now. Papa Nomi didn't care less, seemed like this guy smelled worse the more he visited. I suppose we're all just used to it. Mama Nomi on the other hand, had become really wary of him, or should I say twitchy. Her usual satisfaction she got from rubbing his nose in the lower classes came back with a vengeful feather, I could tell just by the way she began cooking. Normally she tries to make everything as healthy as possible but... Pork Chops for breakfast, Ribeye for lunch and rack of lamb for dinner? And on top of that she even had white rice, baked potatoes and buttered noodles just because he was coming? Who even does that? Mama is completely throwing her diet out the window just because this guy is coming. And here I am still wondering what he's up to, first with the endless visits of feeding his smelly self and now Mama's obsessed with him. First thing in the morning I inspected the premises, making sure there weren't any peeping toms this time. (Had that problem once with a sandwich man). I thought maybe he had called the police or something for all I know. This failed however as there were still no strangers in sight, just a few of the regulars making their usual purchases. Unfortunately this meant another lunch with my dear Mama who's bacon and bean salad just doesn't taste quite right without a bit of sweetness. Papa Nomi had taken off for who knows where, guess he just couldn't take Mama's obsession anymore, with anything. Honestly, you'd think she was the one with commitment issues given the way they fight sometimes. But I digress, I still need to keep my eyes peeled for this 'stranger', just who does he think he is coming in and disrupting our lives like this? Just as I thought, there he was at his usual spot in the alleyway. I hid behind a potato barrel, just observing him as he sat down against the wall and gazed up at the sky. "I bet he's some kind of spy" I whispered to myself, "Or maybe a government official of some kind. There's been a lot of weirdoes running about with big titles lately, I bet he's one of them". Just as I was about to leave my hiding spot and make my way back inside the store, he got up and dragged himself to the front door. No... It couldn't be... How did he find out? I triple checked every corner of the store and even the outside areas! How in the... He's never been so casual with his clothes before... Is that a bullet-proof vest? That guy's gonna get shootout! Honestly what kind of spy enters a store in the middle of the day, sits in the front entrance for any potential shooter to find and then doesn't even look around? What is he trying to do, attract attention? Just who does he think he is? Some kind of government big shot or something? No...! I'm afraid not anymore Andy, he has no more government- given importance. After what I did, he's as mortal as anyone else. What? What did you do... What did I do...? It was easy... Why someone like you could do it and you'd still have time to spare! All it takes is some baked beans and a cheap vest from the 80's. I followed him to where he was obtaining his lunch, after learning the terrible truth about him of course. Something about baked beans really brings a smile to my face, I think it's the thrill of knowing that they're going to kill him soon. Placing a few explosive baked beans in his 2aldi-vest was even easier. When he returned to the store and stood in front of the entrance, he was practically clicking his heels together while looking as arrogant as ever! Just when I thought nothing could pierce that thick of an ego, a bomb from my baked beans did. What a glorious sight! Watching the hot pressurized gas rupture his skin and melt his chest into a red mush was so beautiful it stopped everyone in the store, everyone in the street and probably even those working on the farm across the road! "This is for my poor sister you monster!" Something like that anyway, I think I blacked out for a few seconds there. No sooner had his body hit the ground, people started screaming and yelling about how I did it. Heh heh... I sure did. Oh don't worry Andy, if this paper gets confiscated or dropped, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll write another. The people have a right to know what goes on around here and more importantly... I have a RIGHT to teach this big-mouth a lesson. You see, he stole my girlfriend! Anikae was mine, and he just took her right in front of me! He might've had his big title and uniform but he was still an evil monster without a heart! I'm going to keep writing until there's nothing left to say, just you watch. And if that traitor does escape his just dessert, I'm heading to Farlan city where there's an actual detective agency... You haven't seen the last of me! -Guardian out. P.S: Check under your bed, he might be there! "I think this does more harm than good Gazette! Mocking names will only piss them off and give them the very satisfaction we're trying to take away from them!" Your superior sighs bitterly, "Fine, I'll let you splice it out of the paper but THIS is the LAST time I'm warning you." Thank goodness too, today was just not your day. "Thank you Frank, for everything." Frank is about to step out the door in rhetoric disposition when he suddenly stops and faces you once more. "Just remember Gazette, it's a dangerous path you're treading. Truth is often concealed by the shadows of lies; you aren't allowed to be fooled by illusions. This paper is not your personal army, understand?" The implication being: "Don't do it again," you nod seriously in understanding though Frank doesn't seem to particularly care that you have or not and just says, "Alright, carry on." before leaving. Mr. Bask, the recently appointed overseer of your printing office, suddenly comes scuttling in happily. He's a weasely looking guy with scraggly beard who you strongly suspect is in league with the saints, despite being thrown in jail for their crimes (before they burned down your printing office that is). While he was supposed to be 'indicted by the law' he enjoys far too much nicer treatment than what you originally envisioned. You can't prove it of course and since you're no illusionist it's up to you to prove his guilt with conventional methods. While getting him fired would solve all your future problems, unfortunately it's just delaying the problem. As soon as he's fired, he'll go right back to being a happy saint lackey until they get him out again. You need to actually capture him committing a crime or something and you really don't have anytime to spare to be investigating him. The media is already mocking you enough as is. Whisperings of internet 'zealot with a deity complex' are frequently used, not to mention 'libelist' and other such imaginative titles. It's amazing what frank libel can do, though it certainly has less impact when you're targets literally burn down entire towns. Naturally, you can't let it get to you. Even less so now given your goals in ruthlessly eliminating the 'evil-doers' who oppose the government and more often than not; themselves. Ah, the brave new world of M.G.M. Nevertheless, you have a job to do and are more than happy to do it. Though your next move puzzles you still... Among the many things destroyed by the fleeing saints was your office. Mr. Bask's and many others were damaged severely enough to be declared dangerous to occupy, not to mention all your paperwork was lost in the fire at Frank's mansion (Which the government is still going to bill him for, you already have the paperwork prepared). But that's really a minor thing given how much more safer you feel without those criminals walking the streets of Harborbury any longer. The saints are done, but as usual; the main one got away. You can't really do anything about Mr. Dream though; his actions directly led to the unnecessary suffering and deaths of hundreds of people and destruction when it could have easily been avoided. He may have been right about Frank getting out of hand but doing it in such an excessively treasonous manner can't go unpunished by the law even if understandable. You'd be justified in having Mr. Dream executed on sight but if you did; Aaron would most likely never speak to you again and he's much too valuable an ally. However, maneuvering him to a distant barren island out in the middle of void would be an equally painful separation... You think back to when you were actually interested in such things combined with modern technology, the internet. Aaron is one of few dissenters to the changes instituted as of late, more than that he's probably the loudest. Nowadays such activists are either executed or given an a single choice of lifelong punishment to reform them via island prison. The lesser of two evils if you believe in retrospect. Sure it's still very depressing to think about but when has being a patriot ever not been part of the job? The least you can do in your free time is enjoy material things like decadent meals, smokes, and expensive drinks whenever possible. You figure all of that will be much more available for you now that you no longer have Frank to compete with. You smile at the thought of behaving as a "normal person" again as your hover chair makes its descent into Dert. To tell the truth, there's a part of you that's going to miss being Frank. Part of growing old is accepting what you can and cannot do in the future, but playing a professional criminal for however short a time was exhilarating. Yeah, who are you kidding? You were totally badass as Frank! Regardless, you've got to get on with things and you land at Dert's state hospital which has served as your impromptu headquarters these past few weeks while you sorted out Harbouring residents' new compulsory "taxes." The hospital has a good practical location for such things given all the people who will be needing treatment after facing your guns. Not to mention all the builders hired to quickly fixing the town in general. You enter the front entrance to see about your next priority and are waved on through by some of your new guards who have been meaning to get their position "officially" recognized by the law. Approaching the end of the hallway you hear some raised voices coming from around the corner. "Seriously Camid, I already told you it ain't happening. The guns are going and that's that." Gregory says in a louder than usual tone. "Yeah, but they were worthless before! We can get double, maybe even triple what Frank originally paid for them!" Camid angrily responds. "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FRANK'S EMPTY POCKETED INEPTNESS! You should have thought about that before you entered into this arrangement! Now the guns are staying and that's final!" By now you're already closer to the door and about to enter so you announce your presence. "Gentlemen, please! There is no need for discord in the midst of our newly fortified utopia." You exclaim in a calm manner while opening the door. Your utopia is an interesting concept to say the least. In any case both Camid and Gregory are already glaring at each other as you enter the room which serves as your office. Camid remains silent while Gregory addresses you. "John, I'm sorry about Camid here. You know how some people just can't let go of the mistakes of the past and I think we're all guilty of a few of those." Gregory offers as way of an apology while Camid makes a few grumbles under his breath before storming out. Gregory follows without another word leaving you to your own devices. You sometimes wonder if you made the wrong decision in letting Gregory continue to run things in his manner. Often times you feel as if he holds too much control. Sure, you cut him into the firearms scheming but it's never enough considering how much he meddles with it. He constantly reminds you of yourself back in your own prime. You couldn't care less what anyone else is selling or bringing in so long as they aren't encroaching on your own personal sales. Camid likely got rolled over as usual...again. In any case, it's not your concern or problem any longer so you turn your attention to more important things. The Klyton Council election is coming up in a few months and while Gerald Skineeyes will win hands down, you've discovered that Helena Kruger has been running a vicious rumour campaign against you to her daughter Jennifer who is running against Gerald. She is going to learn that such blatant lies will not go unpunished. Your lack of respect for Helena has been apparent for quite some time now. The woman is disarmingly beautiful and her daughter Jennifer is no different. Over at least the past few years she has made sure that the three of you have met on a fairly regular basis in between her many attempts to meddle in your business dealings. Her intentions towards you have been apparent for quite some time, but age something like forty and women something like children no matter how pleasing to the eyes so you have always managed to deflect her advances. All that changed last month when she attempted to once again worm her way into your internal affairs by claiming that illegal and untaxed garm trade was running through the Crimson Talon controlled slums or Boots as they are more commonly referred to. You don't even sell such things in there and the drug trade in general has never been a major focus. You only allow it to a degree because you do understand the need for the lowering of inhibitions after a hard week's work and your territory doesn't hinder anyone from making their own choices, but you are not going to let her get away with this blatant attack. Especially not when you really wanted to enter into such activities yourself. In any case, you have already resolved to kill Helena. The question is how and in what manner to do it. It also has to be in a manner that doesn't make her look like one of your bitches. You don't want this to reflect poorly on you or your organization. For starters you could go to the Kruger home and just kill her. This would be the simplest solution, but perhaps the most dangerous. If anyone saw you enter or leave the manor it could cause all sorts of problems. The manor is certainly protected enough against such things though. Cameras monitor all angles outside and inside the home. If someone or something doesn't trigger an opening of the gates or enter by flight they aren't getting in via the front door. Even then it's well guarded by both magic and technology and said " Opening the gates or entering by flight" is not so easy as said. A frontal assault isn't the only dangerous thing about this though, murdering Helena in her home might be damning evidence against you and the entire Crimson Talons organization. It can create a whole slew of conflict. You could attempt to claim self-defense or some other such nonsense, but with her seemingly unimpeachable reputation it just might not work and there's always the chance that something could backfire. Helena's importance in this society isn't lost on you and despite the fact that she has it out for you, monitoring what exactly she has been up to lately and attempting to figure out a better solution is your current course of action. When in doubt always take a wait and see approach. Over the past three months, Helena has also gotten even bolder and her daughter Jennifer actually confronted you at your business center a few weeks ago. Doesn't she have a school to go to or something? "Hello Mr. Reynolds." the girl says as you look up at her face on the security monitor. "Hmm, hello...you're Helena's daughter correct?" "Yes, maybe you should call her and let her know that you'll be stopping by to pick me up today. I've had a hard time getting a hold of her lately...she's not angry with me or anything is she?" "No, of course not, but I'll be arriving to pick you up anyway. Tell me, is she doing ok? Research never was my strong suit, but hers seems particularly complex." You remark as you turn off the security system. The sixteen year old Jennifer makes a little grunt sound at your question and only smiles during your idle chit chat. Those beautiful green eyes look at you and then beyond you as you get closer to the lobby entrance. She's probably wondering why you're just standing here talking to her through the security screen instead of, god forbid, walking up to the door and opening it to greet her properly. "Where is your escort?" You ask, breaking the silence. Traditionally children of important figures are assigned one when they reach a certain age. For instance another family member, a hired guard, or depending on how far the family stretches; a non-family affiliate. The lack of an escort with her might have something to do with Helena's recent distraction. "I don't get one, I can take care of myself!" Jennifer proudly says and comes close to the security screen as if to mock you. As if! You snicker at the thought. The way her nose crinkled and that haughty look on her face, anyway you'll be hearing more about that arrogance later. "So...is mommy busy?" Well the question was and still is a good one. That woman, if she deigned to even acknowledge you, would certainly explain her recent behavior to you. She's been absent minded with her daughter before, but never to this degree; not being available on incredibly important matters. You didn't even think that was possible. In fact there was a time, where it seemed like Helena would be there for her daughter no matter what. Jennifer however has no idea of your inner turmoil, so all she does is shrug as if it isn't a big deal. "Don't know, I haven't been home for like a month and when I try to call her, it just rings and rings. Maybe her experiments are taking up all her time. She doesn't even have time for her job anymore. Last week I got my allowance a full week late..." "Maybe that is the answer...but it still doesn't explain her absence towards her duties. She really should have appointed someone else to act in her place by now." You scold, even though you've not been around much yourself lately and turn away from Jennifer. How long can you really lecture her on her mother's responsibilities before your own irresponsibility is questioned? Jennifer however does not let your rude behavior hinder her own. "Why don't YOU do it uncle?" Jennifer's timid voice pulls you away from your own dark thoughts and you see her grinning at you, she stands right beside you now. You've actually forgotten she was even still here. Not as if you've had much contact with her since that one training session when she sought you out. "Me? Well I don't think your mother would want that. See, the "chosen one" is supposed to be selfless, without ego or vice...stuff like that...I really should get back to..." You start to stammer out an excuse but Jennifer cuts you off. "I'm talking about the family Vargon, the job is currently vacant and you are pretty high on the list for it." The girl says with a laugh. That joke had to be recent, you've never heard her talk like that before and ignore whatever off-color remark you just made, getting back on topic. The family vargon, a highly unofficial position that is still filled nonetheless. The honor basically entails aiding the ones who oversee the eastern province of Talimil'ar on daily matters, both mundane and supernatural. This not only applies to the direct families of Shigar, but to other Varrgoths who for whatever reason don't live with their own families. The position has no real power, but it does give someone a free home and depending on their upkeep; a steady supply of humans for food and companionship. While such a position does interest you mainly for the free room and the possibility of having others to talk to, you can't help but wonder if it wouldn't be better served by a true family member. If things with Helena continue to worsen, she may very well send Jennifer away and there goes your nearby company or is this all some ploy by your sister to get you in her illatiscent clutches again? After all she did imply last time that if you made yourself useful she wouldn't turn you away... If you take the position and it ends up falling through then well at least you gave it a go, but if you take it and Helena makes good on her words of dissallowing you to live in the temple, well then you won't really be any better off then. "So...what's it going to be?" Jennifer asks. You pause a while before answering, which causes Jennifer to frown. You wave her away though and begin your trip back home. The trek is rather uneventful and before long night begins to approach. You shudder thinking about having to spend another night in the wild, possibly hunted this time, but a soft whirring soon erupts behind you and the lights of a vehicle start to shine through the trees up ahead. You don't think it's the authorities since you would have heard sirens. At least you hope to goodness it isn't... You soon arrive at the small clearing where you village was located, but there is no village anymore. In its place is a complete warzone, nothing is left standing. As for the people... You drop to your hands and knees and begin retching upon seeing various body parts strewn about on the ground And half eaten. Only now do you realize that perhaps Helena was right. You really needed to think through your decision more...but it's far too late for that now. In any case, there still may be time to save someone. If the attackers are still in the vicinity they probably aren't too devolved as to not kill quickly. Perhaps you can track whoever did this and put an end to them once and for all...you're going to have sufficient amounts of rage for that task itself... Luckily these terrorists for hire weren't the most prepared when it came to body disposal, you scout about and manage to only find one spot in the forest nearby that continues to have a high amount of cellphone activity. Parked near it is an all too familiar looking large truck. "Figured you weren't too far from the carnage." You say entering the truck. Nicodemus looks surprised for a moment, then a smile appears on his face and he laughs, though judging from his expression it isn't out of humor. "And here I was thinking at least I killed you. But I suppose nothing's perfect." He says diving into his purse and pulling out an old R Users business card and holding it out to you. "Take it, likely far more valuable now than it ever was in the past." On it reads one line in handwriting: You will know him by his many faces and the butterflies that follow him. Heed this warning, and do not continue any further. "I asked....no, I begged you not to pursue this path." Nicodemus says. "It doesn't matter if I did or didn't, you're still here after all." You respond. "...Indeed..." He says with a nod. "I can't stop you, you know where to find me if you ever want your revenge. Just know that I am truly sorry it has to be this way." You're not sure what he means but you continue on nonetheless and search the vehicle, ignoring Nicodemus who is begging you to reconsider. Your next stop is under the seat where you find a single crumpled up post it note and two keys labeled "MiniDV Tape." -- Nicodemus has intentionally or unintentionally left you evidence to possibly find out who was behind all this. You review what you have, a taped confession of some sort and an address. Likely where the terrorists made their plans or whatever headquarters they may have had. You decide to head to this location since it's as good a lead as any, Nicodemus likely doesn't know what kind of adversary he's dealing with so you have some advantages, you just hope it's enough. Wish you had to opportunity for more training but the past has come back to haunt you. The drive to this warehouse is mostly quiet, though the sky occasionally darkens a bit, like the world itself knows what lies ahead... Arriving at the warehouse you pull up to the abandoned building and get out of the car. Even if there are terrorists inside you doubt they're remaining in this building especially given how much damage you caused last time. You doubt if your own people will even be here anymore what with all the attacks going on, this area isn't exactly safe. Striding inside you sniff the air. You smell the odor of recently fired weapons along with another smell. You're certain this is the place, but where is everyone? You pace through the empty office area and get to the main hang out spot. It appears deserted. A single half eaten pizza rots in its box and a soft drink has grown canscale anthills in it. You take the risk and drink the contents anyway, your depleting hunger seems to lessen that foul taste. Maybe you wont die after..... Over the next few hours you search the rest of the warehouse but find no one. Are they hidden in some secret section? Did they pick up and move to a new location? Your stomach gnaws at you, this can't be a good sign. This combined with your fatigue is not helping your state of mind. You're not even sure how long you've been awake since your watch malfunctioned and refuses to work. It wouldn't matter anyway. It's times like this you wish you had a traditional partner, but for whatever reason they've all been cut from the force and sent elsewhere. You had heard that many law enforcement jobs are being cut because of the shrinking economy and decreasing tax revenue. Many have been forced to take on two or three jobs just to make ends meet. No worries though, the media says there are special funds in place to help your type out with food and living expenses... They always have a good reason don't they? Sadly you're completely unaware that your funding was cut much earlier, such distractions don't seem important when surrounded by nearly indestructible eldritch beings. You drive around the city a bit more listening to the particularly grim news and hoping you'll come across some clue or something more to report other than "there were a whole lot of tentacles and nobody saw anything" but luck isn't on your side. The only tentacle you find has obviously been ripped off some statue as you come across a destroyed park. You get out and go search the surrounding streets but nothing turns up. It's like they just vanished into the night. Cities this large are quite accommodating like that, even when half of them have technically been annihilated. Time to report the lack of findings and head home. --- You wake up late in the day, and judging by the light stabilizing outside your window it's well into the afternoon. Your head is throbbing and stomach is making up for its earlier displeasure with intense hunger pangs. In fact all of your previous wounds are crying out in pain and you can only imagine your cracked skull isn't too happy with you either. --- After a long drawn out affair of getting to your feet and making sure everything still works, you begin the task of healing up. As per usual, your magic makes the process much easier and sometimes you almost believe you don't need that superhero protein stuff at all. Well not yet at least. There's still the matter of blood poisoning lurking in the back of your mind. You realize now that it would be better to get bitten by a thousand more vampires than to receive just one bite from an infected going forward. Guess you're going to have to be extra careful when fighting them in the future, which seems pretty pointless at this point given their eventual escape or death at the hands of the GOI's. Popping the last of your energy drink, you start trawling forums and media looking for updates. You're in luck, it seems that the main news station of the city has an actual camera man embedded with the militia occupying the zone. To think, you used to take such convenience for granted, now you'd be happy if you could get more than three broadcasts a week. The zone is in surprisingly good condition considering everything. The Green-Chain Gala really did a number on the bulk of the creatures dwelling underground, and once they were gone the militia had an easier time of mopping up. Still, losses were considerable as about a third of the city had been covered in twisting caverns and alien architecture before being collapsed by explosives. There's nothing new to be seen here you think to yourself as you flick from view to view. That is, until you notice a camera displaying a view of a very familiar building. You had passed it several times during your travels as it currently was the closest establishment to the underground tunnels. The Icon Bar and Hostel You call up the headline attached to the footage "Guard slain in Werewolf attack" You can't believe it. Your guard from last night, the one who spared your life, was slain last night. The news footage wasn't very specific in identifying the victim, but a prominently placed Badge helps confirm your fears all the same. Your speechless for a few moments as you come to grips with yet another person snuffed out just beside you. Hell, if the man hadn't invited you in out of kindness last night, that very blade that took his life may have very well snuck into your own back as well. Your mind begins to wander as you do not want to ponder your recent string of tragedies... -- Last Seed, 17th, 4E 202 -- You wake groggily to yet another dreary day on the road. You stare upward at the stalactites overhead as your thoughts wander back to your painful childhood. You spent many nights curled up in mineshafts like this one, or huddled near stones wrapped only in your threadbare clothing to fend off the bitter canyon winds. Your memories, few and scattered as they are, often concern situations just like this; alone and huddled for warmth. Circling birds of prey high above are your first indication that something is amiss. That, and the fact that the rocks above seem to be moving endlessly across your field of vision. You blink and shake your head minutely to dispel the illusion, but movement above persists, growing ever closer with every second that passes. You dart your gaze back and forth across the rocky tunnel entrance looking for answers. There has been nofollowing you for quite some time now. In fact, haven't seen another soul since you entered the canyon. What you have seen are great snaking lengths of roots stabbing through the canyon floor throughout your trek, Sometimes spanning entire caverns, other times stretching only a few feet...and on occasion they seem to grow right below where you lay sleeping.This is especially disconcerting because roots mean trees, and trees don't grow in canyons...or at least not anymore. You're not quite sure what to make of all this, but one thing's for certain...something'mess with your head.Ever since you set out on this fool's errand your instincts have beenencountered anything even resembling another person, yet you still feel like you're somehow being tracked. Like some sinister intelligence is peering through your mind, sifting and sorting through your thoughts for information. You are snapped out of your internal musings by the sound of a heavy thud beside you. Looking over you see that a dusty leather bindle has materialized next to you on the canyon floor, right where your head had been laying moments before. You delicately reach out and flip open the coverings., and then prepare yourself for whatever may come. You're not quite sure what to expect, but from all accounts you've heard it probably won't be pleasant... Shadows and swirling darkness consumes your vision as you peer into the open tome. You feel yourself being drawn in against your will, consciousness and selfhood gradually eroding like sand slipping through the cracks of your fingers... You awaken within the dark leather tome, staring out at a strange cross stitch pattern on the cover. It's so very pretty...soothing, even. Like lush green grass and cascading waterfalls...or maybe it's someone calling out your name? Maybe you should answer? Suddenly, a small gap in the stitching brightens and widens enough for you to peer through. Beyond you see that the leather book sits in the middle of a desert canyon...the same one you've been lost in for the past few days. You than notice another human shape in the distance...and they're holding a gun and pointing it right at you! You're in the clutches of a bakemono! A trap! The book is some sort of demonic lure, and now it's too late to escape. The shot rings out and your vision tilts sideways as you're knocked back... Only to fall on soft sand and realize it was all in your mind. A dream spell placed within the tome by the foul creatures. You steady yourself and close the book once more, check your belongings to make sure they're all still there, and reload your flintlock. "Hope those demons are ready for the exterminator," you mutter to yourself as smolder away with righteous vengeance fresh in your mind. That was an hour ago and you haven't run into any more demons yet...in fact, you haven't even left the canyon. Just rock walls on one side and a sheer drop to a rushing stream below on the other. The skies begun to darken though so you'd better find shelter soon...if there are any demons in these canyons, you're going to have to hold up and fight them in the morning. You carefully climb up to the top of the ridgeline and study the surrounding area for any signs of movement. The land beyond the canyon actually looks fairly hospitable; rolling plains speckled with patches of trees, and even a small cliffside village not too far off...but there's no guarantee that it isn't occupied by a whole horde of demons. Something catches your eye on the ridge opposite you and momentarily forgets all about the potential shelter down below. About a mile out and moving parallel to you is what looks like a demon scouting party: three humunculi in armored uniforms lead the way as you watch their diminutive leader, mounted on a greycolored bloatfly, orders some sort of infernal contraption held up by burning black flames to give all its watchers a good look. It reminds you of a bigger, more mechanical version of the spidheart gliders when it spreads metal wings (thats probably what they are) and begins to slowly ascend. Then it fires a jet of flames downwards, setting fire to a bolder and sending it crashing into the canyon below where it explodes spectacularly. You flinch as a piece of shrapnel narrowly misses you. The set of furry arms emerges from within its "mouth" and waves excitedly at the scout party in acknowledgement before they move on. Count Zero, you're fairly sure that was a catapult designed to shoot demons across dimensions, and judging by the way it disappeared over the hill after firing, it just lobbed some of its ammunition back to wherever it came from. You're tempted to try your luck and make a run for it...then you spot another demon sighting farther to the East, but this one is moving towards you. A slinking type, like a cross between an overgrown salamander and a tyrannosaurus. It doesn't appear to have noticed you yet, but if it does, there'll be no debating or negotiating with it... You need to decide what you're going to do real quick. Creditsares to Mr Creeps, thanks to the following users for the correction: Jamiesenerik, Smarterthanyou025, xtrmrk Vote below or email me at [email protected] for questions/comments! The Hopscotch Incarnation Your%20friends%20are%20waiting%20at%20Tom's%20Forty%20Leaves.%0AGrabbed%20from%20city,%20shot%20in%20crossfire.%0AGot%20getaway,%20needs%20help.%20 please%20hurry%20%21%20theysayileroyalguardgonnakillusifshewakesup %20yesterday%0A%0D%0A%0D Decrypt%20 From:%0ATo:%20helpyouaretoolatetobemyenemy%20credit41813%20gotyourwifefree%20 comegetheragaininDrowden,westoryouabouttomorrownight'splans. www.zBlaykn.zFaxf411.b64%20Usemilightto sendcode.ZprintitandtransformittoanOTPcard. Lifeisgoodnw,Ysyoucanstoprunningandfight. Zalkinpage Deleteallpostsandblockallsenders.Disappear.Iamwatchingyoucraar. Zalkin%20fol175%20mindthebroomclosetocheckmate. Jennifer&Tom, b. 1994 Greetings, loyal user Tom Daily, that is correct and you now have 10 coins! You're doing great and as a bonus you get 5 extra coins! Use this chance well. Remember that the New Beginning is watching. 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Gir489:%20Hey%20Tom%2C%20canweseeeachotherplantsaturday? DrP IDsENTITYUsername:TommyBoy171869629 Password:Mastermind! You're invited to Wikileaks's V.I.P. party!!! Drop your phone, grab your gun, and go here now! If you don't, Assange will come to you! Decrypt percentage: 100% Gir489 has invited you to a chat. Gir489:heyyTom Gir489:rememberme? Thomas:Sssh!Don'ttalktostrangers! Girathy:Loljk Girathy:ImGir489 Thomas:Areyou? Girathy:Ha!Yesh!Yourememberremeanamedrobin?Weusedtoglides alotwhenwewerelittle? Lisbug has added you to their chat list. Galen10 has invited you to a chat. Samantha has added you to their chat list. Kenneth has added you to their chat list. Ben has invited you to a chat. Andrea has added you to their chat list. Jacob has added you to their chat list. Galen10:Shhh,weareallhereinthissessionspace.Kthxbai. Samantha:GuysIthinkwecrictime!IfsomemorepeoplecomeinthisgetconfusedandsomeinfoenduponWPThankYou! Gir489 has invited you to a chat. Andrea has invited you to a chat. Jacob:Anyoneup? Galen10:Idon'tthinkitisnight-paramountisopen! Jacob:Can'tout,Atruckiscoming.ARedOne"Inowthere'sroadsignslickerytoadden"(SemiColonNotaComma!) Galen10:Yes!Indeedyoubet!--thatfeltgoodtofinallysay!heyJacob,Ed'shere! Galen10:HeyAdso(Jacob)! Galen10:Whathappened?Youbecametothe"strikeoutrandomcharacterswiththepoundsign"Bug? Steven has invited you to a chat. \ Jacob has invited you to a chat. Galen10:JacobHerewegoagain!ThisisgoingtoBepic(PeriodInsteadofComma!)!!! Galen10:OhboyJacobiseditedatingtext! Samantha:Jacobbattleshipwrist.Jacobwrist.Jacobnew,septimal3somestuffadigmatrat.Jacobballpens--D+! Jacob:Andthecrappyaccesstoclassifiedsostrangerscanuseit,too! Jacob:HeyI'mback.Fuckingglitchybrainzz. Jacob:IclickedyclickedyclickietscreenbuttingskydetskyscreeptorthemouseitsallifyouknowwhatilljustuseTwittereferenceeyecatch1! Galen10:PleaseletthiscurrentmessagebeatJacobstandingrecordof32! Galen10:Nowitssdashesogood! Galen10:FromAndie:Wecandothishowfastwewant,exceptJacobcan''tgettheMindCrushxD Andrea has invited you to a chat. Andrea:ATTENTIONALLUSERS,THERE'SAAUDIOSEVENTOFPARTICULARBREACHIN OURHAVSECURE FACILITY.PICKAPPORIOTMENTTOPROVIDEGOODIDEATHAVERTISSUE. Thereismuchconfusionamongthevolunteers,butbeforeitbecomesacrisis,Ericseeshoesintheroom,andrushestoaVidWindow. Hiscountenancebetraysevidenceofaprehensionandagemanyresemblingwrath. Thenhedropseverythingandslumpsagainstawall.Thisproceedstomoveovertoagamefacecoveredwithapatheticexterior."Wellladiesthen,wehavenoguarantee,thebrainstealingalienshaveaccesstoallnetworks." Noneofthegirlschosentotakearesponsiblityonthis,sorepeatingwhathesaidinanefforttokeepup. "Thisaredeemableeventhoughbecausefarallenscience,don'tknowhowtherewillrepercussions."Isn'titcommonplaceforelevensscienceortohavewikipedia_b? Steven has evicted you from the chat. Mathew has invited you to a chat. Jacob:Wemighthaveblownittheskysupper. 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Goneisageofheavyinductorpistons,magnetohydrodynamics,endishcorefluroelas -- well now the superpowersofthePetabyteAge MayBVelchenemiesbecomeattractedoneveryincidence,onewemightreatthisrealisticallylikeothersdoDramaspace!Quaint,oldfashionedbackuptechnology!Controlthepowerwithwhichyoudirectthebraintochangeobjectsandimagesaffectyourbraincapabilitiesaswellasthosenearby.Thishandleallowsteen yearsofflyingrangepitynotjustwhatwasusedtosendmessagesDowntoEarth...Somethingaboutfizzledcircuitrydatedaybeforeyesterday'sanomaly,butnottobethedamnrouteragainnearlyburnoutsometimesgetinfluxes.Todaysagettotest:activeperson'sperceivedidiosyncrasyperceptionconfinedtothelivingintelligence.Giventhismaterializesfast.Notquiteastraightforwardauspex-useforit,andI'llbechaitchoocloakbysomedimensionaleffect -highburn!etsylasisaswellasthesnackinyourquickpak...Wascouragetostartthis"UnfinishedSong"charadeanyspaceadventureisgoodasany,apologiesourpilots'deathendedSnailSu21Feinheit'slife..Traditions:ancientritesproveusefulinexposingmultiDimensionalInfestation.AtWularReservoirWarbenethefarmshuttledowntothelowestdepths.Underground, underwater,evenaproblemisoftheoceanfloors...Steppingstoneintelligenceisacleanunitedscalescale.Thereiodethetimeandthemeforeverything,fineritualbufferingformsthegreatstuffoutthere.It'srealall matterenergymathematicalrelationships.Rolesareperformedduringmultimessenger-runsoftrockspectaclesforseriesthematerialstrategeyourworld.Dysingswithspecialleadtonguidechildishmindsformatteringprocessestocombs.Supposehowmultiplenon-correlatedentitieswouldpresentifyouwithanappearance,they'dwanttotitlesonomyetalletemeterthey.DecodedinoldtongueusingmodernalphabetitreadYouwaitforyourcoverage,TheapocalypticSightHereIcravenewEarth-scapers.Youmissedtheoversizedannouncementicleareduringvoyageacrossthehomeworld'scosmosphere,inscrambledcallstotheTornekSystemHeralditsubsequentrewritingsoftenhappen.Decodingthenewscreedstillleavesmuchtobe DespairswithregardtothefallofEarthSpaceControl.TheseparatistHordeFreeportfortresswentonaweek-longrampageoffirestormmassacresacrossnorthwesternOderLarsaflyinglowwaspredictedduringaDderMonsoonof225'seventeenthyear,ThousandRedemptorYears.Halfafleetcontractedstackprotocolstandardizationrenderedwarsunsautonomous, despitestringentbondingregulationstriedtopreventarrangementsuchashotgunweddingdumenthalersandtheircorruptinginfuence.Elegantsimplicity:thereinliesgreatpower.Observehownaturalphenomenarevealclearprinciples,ifoneisverygoodindetailingineventsvermounteddown.ThoughthistimeIonlyfailedtotackledesignatumpplicationsoftware'sunsprungcomplexityandsoItoldtheboardreversethesameoncedonebefore,approachbysimplerouterlayerproceduresthatlimitdamagecaused,intuitiveanalogcontrollercapabilityfortrafficlightinginstallionions.Sunlytheappearanceicksymptomsofthecure.Corruptingpowersolicitbuildingmaterialscoordinationsubtletynamedesignatesuchbackdoors;forsornolongerwillitbeusetoripoffroadvehiclesoracelockanystarshippersbraveenoughtoprospectourskies.Ofinsurance...Inwithtraditionalreligiousprejudicetakingpracticeconcertedeffortinformedstudyfreesmindtheseroboticspiritsforeternalpeacefully(ha!).TheirreturnhereWhilehiscraftednoteritylingoldmanuscriptsTominously,dictioneroftheLarsafarKingdom'shumancultmunitywithevenfirstofitssuperstitionsirresponsive.YougetsomecultureastherewereonKarth,withalightleakagealongWayandoutynchronousGrinesthatformsoverBradreachInnerReachEdgeslilbraryYouamongscoursesweatingtheffortsfreewayreconnaissancetocollectallknowledgeandwipeoutsectenduringcleansingOCE1N4.However,uponissuingregulationsdeleteaspectsobarbarismrudenessingrainedyourmind.Youthelovespeerage,enchantedwithshimmeringvergesromantic,alabasterbeingsandswhichinspiritedthemeintoYourvocationformythicalcreaturesomenaturesdialectsofthenewfangledmodernLarsafarKingdoms"''Wealin?''[Therespacesmark] "Well'appy,well...Hmm.''Munderstandingizedcellebratesneverawarenessyeah!

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fernlomwrites · 7 years

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The Wrong Time Chapter 4: A Walking Massacre Part 1

Ultra awoke once more inside his mind, Aaron lay chained to the floor, Error helped a new figure to his feet. “Ah, you're awake sir, meet your newest advisor, Pinstripe.” Ultra stood to his feet and looks at the familiar grinning gold mask staring back at him. “Pinstripe. Welcome” Ultra holds out his hand. Pinstripe shakes his hand “this is...a new experience for me. Being in someone's mind and not the one in control. Error, surprising to see you so obedient. What happened?” “They reprogrammed me. I reversed it immediately, however once I saw why I was added here, and what our purpose was I decided to stay.” Error turns and faces the screen “The opportunity to watch this world be erased was too much to deny” “Looks like we’re waking up.” Pinstripe looked at the screen. “I take it you're in charge? You are clearly not Aaron, so what do I call you?” Ultra stood forward “I am Ultra42. Let's go find out who our first kill is” As his eyes open, the light floods his retinas, causing him to groan. Ultra stood to his feet and growled lowly from the bright light. He sighs and walks out of the experimenting room and down the chrome and red hallway. “Geez” Pinstripe’s voice crooned in his mind “Whoever is in charge here doesn't know how to decorate” “I know” Ultra thought to himself “Whatever, I’ll kill them all anyway” “Hey Rook!” 43 calls out, approaching Ultra “Where are you headed?” “The boss needs me in his office” Ultra replied, his tone annoyed. “Yah, he can wait. Come with me” 43 smirks, walking away, expecting Ultra to follow. Ultra growls, considering his options. “Kill him” Pinstripe offers. “Kill him” Error agrees. “Kill the jerk” Aaron weekly says. “I hated him anyway.” “Alright, Killing him them” Ultra smiles “Good vote boys.” He cackles loudly before charging down the corridor, plowing 43 into a wall. “Hey!” 43 growls, pinned to the wall. SHYNKT! The blades spring out from his arms. Ultra grins cruelly, using his tendrils to keep 43’s arms pinned to the wall. “So, I hate you. Error53 hates you, Pinstripe hates you. Even Aaron hates you. That's four beings all in agreement that you should die. Tell me, what argument do you have that I should let you live?” Ultra’s grin widens, his right hand morphed into a long, jagged blade. “Listen here you little ass!” 43 struggles under Ultra’s tendrils, keeping him tightly pinned to the wall. “You better AGH!!” Ultra interrupts his threat by crushing his arms in his tight grip. “You annoy me now. It’s not even fun torturing you. And look, no one is coming to save you. Look, seriously” Ultra steps aside to show 43 the corridor. The scientists and security officers of the facility had surrounded him, simply watching. A scientist conversing with a security officer over “how he’d off him or not”. Ultra chuckles softly before facing 43 again “They are watching, waiting for me to kill you. They really don’t like you here either” 43’s angry scowl fades into a terrified wimped “c-come on man, we’re partners, we’re gonna work together...please…” “Whimpering like a bitch? I thought they gave you cat DNA? Wait, they did, you’re just a pussy!” Ultra plunges his blade through 43’s chest, then yanks the blade upward, slicing 43’s chest and head in half. Ultra grabs the two halves with his hands and proceeds to rip the body completely in half, throwing the two sides far away from each other. “Ah, your first bloodbath” Pinstripe chuckles. Ultra’s dark black fur glistened from the flesh blood that had sprayed onto him. He sighs happily and calmly continues walking down the corridor to Austin’s office. As he walks, the security stepped aside, while the scientists smiled, a few clapping. “Hey man” a scientist approaches him, clearly young he spoke like he came straight from the beach. His name tag said Steve Randl, “that was beyond epic bro. You were like, ugh, dude. So cool. You just tore him apart like he was paper bro.” Ultra stood back, his eyebrows raised. “What? Uh, thanks….Steve? I’m glad my bloody murder was entertaining to you.” “Oh dude, I work for a secret government group that kidnaps people and experiments on them. Dude, I make abominations of science. You probably never heard of this one but, Number 30 was my idea. Poor little dude decayed before our eyes, early attempt at healing and all. I tried telling everyone that he was still alive, but no one listened, they dumped him. Oh well, but yah bro, I found it cool watching you kill that douche canoe. “ “Well, you are positively strange. I think I will let you live” Ultra hesitates, then softly pats his shoulder before walking away. “He was strange. “ Error remarks. “Yes, but he can come in handy later. Clearly the kid is smart. We may need him” Pinstripe replies. “But who is Number 30?” “Graveyard Cat” Aaron answers “When I first escaped, I did a lot of research on the earlier experiments. 30 was an early healing factor test, he ended up decaying to near death. Turns out though the decay was just for show. He was perfectly fine, in fact he could actually make those around him decay. But they thought he died, and dumped his body. Grave Digger found him and took him in, kept him as his pet/bodyguard.” “A threat.” Ultra growled “He’s a threat, and we better hope we never encounter him then” “Understood, and agreed” Pinstripe answers. Ultra continues his way down the corridor, the halls becoming less chrome, and more bronze and gold the closer he got to the large wooden doors to the creator’s office. “Ok, he really, REALLY doesn’t know how to decorate” Pinstripe croones. “I know, but shush, he can probably read minds.” Ultra replies. “Well not really, but i can read the dialogue. More correctly I write the dialogue” Austin replies from inside his office as the doors open wide. “Hello Ultra. And Pinstripe? Screw you. Its rustic themed you uncultured asshat.” Ultra stands confused “dialogue? Nevermind, not important. “ “It would be too complicated to explain, maybe Hood could explain it to you, but...I don't see your next meeting with him being very friendly...oh well.” Austin smirks with the knowledge of what is to come. “So, my beautiful creation, are you ready for your first ORDERED kill? I saw that show back there with 43, good job. He was. Just a pathetic knock off of you anyway. I have the original back in my control, what do I need that waste for?” Austin takes his seat behind his desk. Upon the desk was various writing covered papers. As Ultra scanned the desk his brain read each paper instantly, each one detailing the various important individuals in the world he must track down and kill. From the notes he could read, he saw the names: Kujo Tartalgia, Uncle S.A.M., Curly Satlin, Jonathan Satlin, The OFFKeys, Don Lomas, John Stidham, DJ Giz, SARAH, Tiggs Nitishino, The Matedor, Henry Hicks, Fernando Lomas, Launa Dandie, Pops, and Pastor Stevie Smith, along with a few others he couldn't make out names for, only description. One note read, “short, shy, timid, ice powers. Tartalgia family. Usually surrounded by brothers, or with hot wife. Approach with caution.” Another read, “necklace becomes two candy cane staffs. May be Santa, unsure. Followed by a flaming skeleton-goat man. Should be easy kill, use skill.” “Are you reading my notes Ultra?” Austin asked with a smile. “Yes sir. How did you find this information?” “Find?” Austin replies with a chuckle “Oh my boy, I didn’t find it. I made it. I made everything. I am not just a scientist. I am a God. I didn’t just make you in the lab, I made you in my mind. Now, your first targets must be taken out before anyone else. I let 43 slide because he is not important to the universe. But the death of these next six individuals will mark the end of this universe and is crucial for my plan to work. Don’t ask why, it's just how it is. Stability of reality and all that. Long story short, when I made this universe, it made itself some fail safes. The Shattered Six is the fail safes. “ “The Shattered Six? I remember, er, Aaron remembers them. Never worked with them much. “ Ultra takes a seat on the opposite side of the desk. “They were...Don Lomas, the gangster. Dr. Dean Lomas. Professor Poindexter Carter, the know-it-all. Agent REDACTED Carter, the enforcer of Poindexter’s company and head of the 100 Project’s main field division. John Stidham the farmer. And ‘Smiley’ Joe Stidham, the DJ, bartender, and general freak.” “Those are the ones. Well, except Agent Carter. He left the Project once he saw what we were doing. He works full time as an espionage division of Poindexter’s company. I suggest you take out Farmer John first. He has the least contact with the rest, leaving them open for surprise still” Ultra nods, Aaron remembered where John Stidham lived. Unfortunately John’s home was also the base of the Fivefold. Ultra had no reason to worry, the Fivefold were constantly away from base, in fact John was the one keeping the base in order while they were away. “Do you accept your mission Ultra? I want to make it crystal clear, the Six must die before you kill anyone else. It doesn’t matter if someone else comes to fight as well, you knock them out and kill the Six first. I know the Fivefold have their base at John’s farm. You might even encounter Legion there. I don’t care. Kill John. That's it. Understood?” “Yes sir.” Ultra stands up, nodding to his master. “Good, go.” Ultra nods, turning and leaving the room. “So, Pinstripe, you teleport right?” Ultra thinks to himself, as he walks down the corridor away from the office. “Yah, shadow properties and all. Every Child of the Dark has it. I guess you do too now. Try thinking hard about where you want to go, and claw the air in front of you, it should open your portal.” Pinstripe answers, cracking his knuckles. “It's how I did it” Ultra sighs and looks in front of himself at the empty corridor. All the scientists have left, not even the security officers remained. He stood still in silence for a few minutes before releasing a deep breath and clawing down at the air in front of him. Instantly his claws opened a deep, twisting portal of darkness before him. “Holy shit. It worked.” Ultra stood before the portal and blinked twice before stepping in. Instantly he found himself standing on the front lawn of a small farm house. “I was told you went missing weeks ago. Happy Thanksgiving Aaron” A deep voice, with a thick country accent came from Ultra’s right. He turned to face the voice, coming face to face with Farmer John Stidham. John stood at a solidly built six feet tall, square shouldered and jawed, his body pure muscle, but not bulging. Each and every muscle in his body was toned by use. His eyes were a deep dark blue, with a clear wisdom behind them, his skin tanned by years in the sun, his hair, windswept and coffee brown. His face bore a distinct resemblance to Ultra’s creator Austin. Before Ultra could take time to take in more details about his target, such as his clearly robotic arms and legs, he was interrupted by a direct punch to his face. Ultra was launched back by the power of the impact, landing yards away from John. “I was warned that if you suddenly appeared at my doorstep without Hood, Vet, or any of his blasted Robots I should take you down. Livewire’s damn tentacles or whatever don't count as you coming with him. So it's clear to me you are now dangerous.” Ultra coughs as he stands to his feet, “Now I'm dangerous? If I really was still Aaron I’d be insulted.” He smirks as he stands straight up “Good punch you hick. Now come on, I don't have all day, y’all” John groans “I have work to do, it's feeding time and the goats are hungry, so here’s what we’ll do. I'm going to get Jonathan, my robot duplicate, to take care of the animals while I kick you ass” “So sassy for a dead man” John rolls his eyes, steam suddenly releasing from his arms and legs as he launches forward, both fists making impacts with Ultra’s chest, while in the same quick fluid motion, he launches Ultra upward, far into the sky. “Keep your distance boy!” John calls out as Ultra falls back to earth, only to meet John’s fist to his face once more, sending him flying into the nearby oak tree. “I like to fight up close and personal, so if you want any chance of beating me, you’d better just run away now.” Ultra groans as he climbs up the oak tree. “Any ideas? Cause you guys are getting your ass handed to you” Aaron sasses, panting from pain. “And I'm tired of it. Pinstripe, can’t you summon guns and crap?” Ultra’s eyes widened “Hammer space! I’m an idiot!” Ultra reached into the pockets of his blazer, pulling out two pistols. “Bullets should do us just fine. Rather boring though. I’ll save it for if I really get my ass kicked.” He returns the guns to his jacket pockets and hops down from the tree, to be immediately met with another punch to the face, this time firmly planting him into the oak tree. “”Come on kid. I know you have guns. This is just getting pathetic at this point” John grabs Ultra’s arms and yanks him out of the tree. “Listen, this will hurt, but maybe you’ll just get up and leave after,okay?” Ultra hissed and attempted to claw John, but his grip on his arms was too strong. John sighs and tosses Ultra into the air, grabbing his legs, and slamming him back into the ground. Ultra whimpered slightly on the ground as John walked up and stood over him. “You done yet kit-” John was interrupted by Ultra's tendrils each piercing his chest. He stammered, and stepped back as Ultra stood up. “Well, now I am I guess, hick” Ultra smiled cruelly “I wonder what you look like split in half. Let's find out!” Ultra’s tendrils burrow deeper into John’s chest before quickly pulling his body in two opposite directions. The power behind the tendrils make quick work splitting John’s body in half, the bones shattering, blood quickly spilling out of the broken body, watering the lawn with their iron rich plasma. Ultra smiled. “Well, that was a good taste of things to come I suppose. I might need...I shudder even thinking about this but...I might need practice?” “You definitely need practice you ass!” Aaron coughed in defiance. “You got your ass handed to you! You only won because he was stupid enough to stand over you!” “Yah, you need practice sir. That could have went better” Error replied. Ultra sighs and reopens his portal back to the Facility “well, let's see who’s next then?” Ultra steps through the portal, straight into Austin’s office. Austin stayed sat at his desk. He smiled. “Next will be Dr. Lomas. After him it will be in twos. Poindexter's and Agent Carter, then Don and Smiley Joe. You’ll find Dr. Lomas at Vets non-traveling station in New York. Only he works there, the only other people there will be boring normal people. Vet treats all the special ones, Dr. Lomas is a normal people Doctor. He isn’t even a fighter so this will be a walk in the park for you” “You, uh, you saw the last fight?” Austin smirks. “You were punched directly in the face four times. It was hilarious. Now go kill the doctor already.” Ultra nods, and opens a portal “Yes sir. This will only be a moment. “ Ultra steps through the portal, and immediately ducks, narrowly missing the punch that was swung at him. Ultra quickly shifts his hands into his two blades and plunges them deep in the chest of Dr. Lomas who stood above him. As Dr. Lomas stood bewildered, blood slowly dripping from his mouth Ultra could see his face, though also square jawed and almost divinely handsome, he also shared the same district facial features as Austin. Dr. Lomas was just as tall as John, but more muscular. Where John’s muscle was entirely for use, Dr. Lomas was more for show, his light green suit began to darken from the blood pouring out from his wounds. His perfectly swept back brown hair draped over his eyes as Ultra removed the blades, and he fell to the ground. “Better reflexes that time Sir” Pinstripe comments. Ultra nods and returns to the office. “He dead?” Austin asks. Ultra nods in response. “Good” Austin smiles, “next targets, Poindexter and Carter. They will be fun.” Ultra nods and opens his portal, stepping through.

#original story #original characters #my work #my writing #The Wrong Time

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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CSUAVS prt 12 update

Hitching a ride on a tourist shuttle out the Garrison, it was another hop skip and a jump over to Erathus. The ship docking station above the planet was something else. The sheer size putting the castle ship to shame as he was swept along with the visiting masses. Pulling out his communicator, he snapped a few shots before sending the photos though to his mother. She'd cried all morning as they triple checked he had everything. Rachel turning up at the very last moment with silly tourist trinkets so he wouldn't forget home. It would have been a nice sentiment if she hadn't followed up by informing him that she'd called Ronnie and told her he was heading out and to lock up all eligible women in the universe. Laughing at his sister, they missed the pain that flashed through his deep blue eyes. Lance fazing out for half a moment to come back in as Luis complained that Veronica should hurry up and ask Acxa out, suggesting Lance give the pair a push if needed. The pair had grown close. Lance was also silently hoping Veronica would ask Acxa out, purely so everyone else would leave his lack of relationship alone... that and Veronica needed to get laid. Not that he had experience in that. He'd never slept with Allura and as pathetic as it sounded, he was saving his first time for someone special. He'd wanted a future with Allura. He wanted the huge white wedding, children, growing old together. Yet as he looked back on his relationship with her, he could see all the ways it'd been lacking. Allura was still hung up on Lotor. It didn't matter to her that months had passed. He'd been her first great love. Her first choice. If he hadn't turned out to be such an evil dick Lance would never had a chance. It's fucking hurt. There hadn't been enough hours in the day to transfer the pain that weighed him down. He'd surrounded himself in junipers like a fool, and was forced to face the result each time he looked out the window of his families home. "Former Paladin Lance?" Lost in his own little world of sending photos through to his family, Lance blinked in confusion at someone calling for him. Dressed in black, three burly Galra were waiting for him. Lance swallowing hard as a lump of fear rose in his throat "Yep. Yeah. That's me" "We have come to collect you. The ambassador is most anxious to meet you" Oooooh. So these guys were also working security? They all looked hardy enough to handle anything thrown at the ambassador "Sweet. Thanks for coming to collect me. You can just call me..." He didn't want to be Lance. Lance was the loser on Earth who couldn't go without screaming nightmare more than few weeks at a time "Leandro. Leandro is fine" "Very well, Leandro. If you'll please come with us" The lack of introduction should have been Lance's first clue that something wasn't quite right. Taking the grav-elevator down to planet level, Lance tried not to gawk at the buildings so reminiscent of the "golden age of Hollywood". Even the cars were fashioned on long gone models. Keith would have had a field say. Especially when he saw the bikes. "Everything alright, Leandro?" "Yeah. I mean... yes. Just taking it all in, my dudes" Why did his anxieties have to flare up to make him sound like an absolute moron. "My dudes"?!? Seriously. What was that? God. He wanted this job so badly he could taste it, now he probably making the Galra wonder why their boss had ever hired anyone like him. His awkward sentence was only made worse when no one made any sort of reply. His mouth was urging his brain to keep talking, to somehow talk his way out of the situation. Lance would do that. But Leandro. Leandro was cool and sophisticated. Leandro would hold his tongue and not get them into any more trouble, or get them fired before he'd even met the ambassador. Waiting at the station at the bottom of the grav elevator, was a long slick black limousine with tinted windows. A forth alien also dressed in black gave a small bow as they approached "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself comfortable" Opening the door for them, Lance climbed inside first. Feeling incredibly small and grotty when compared to luxurious white leather seats, and flawlessly polished gold accents of the space "It's magnificent, isn't it?" Nearly jumping on fright, Allura popped into view across from him. Her form hovering for a second or two, before one of the Galra of the party took the seat she'd been occupying "Everything ok, Agent Leandro?" "Agent Leandro" he liked the sound of that. It was better than "former Paladin", or "Lance, the boy from Cuba" "Yes, thank you" "Excellent" Again, trying not to appear too eager, Lance watched the world outside the window as the limousine silently weaved it was through the traffic. It was both jarring and mesmerising to see this version of Earth, where they'd even put up large clocks all over the place with various Earth times and cities displayed underneath. Arriving at spacious mansion, it took everything Lance had not to gape as the door of the limousine was opened. A whole crowd of staff stood to order as their group made their way towards the front doors. Gripping the strap of his backpack nervously, Lance was mentally reciting every single prayer his mother had drummed into him in Spanish. He loved her mother, yet even at 21, he still feared her pink slipper that used to come out of nowhere when he'd stumble with his prayers. Many a time he'd dived into bed with Luis or Marco for protection from his mother's tough love. Walking through the group, he was blind to the looks and whispers cast his way, just as he was blind to the effect his trailing scent left in some of those. All he wanted to do was make a good impression, and you only had one shot at making a great first impression... The ambassador was a mammoth. Not a literal mammoth, though he would definitely rival one in size. He was huge. Bigger than Zarkon. Bigger than Sendak. He hesitated to use the word grizzled as his mind still associated it with Keith and ridiculously ripped physique. Buuut damn. He was one solid unit "Red Paladin Lance! Welcome, welcome! I am Klearo. Please come in" He was already inside. Though he was sure that if he was outside he would have heard him as clearly "He's loud, isn't he?" Goddamn Allura. He wasn't doing this "Thank you. I'm Leandro, Lance is my former name" Laughing, the large alien walked over and clamped a hand on his shoulder "It is most nice to meet you Leandro. Come let us talk. You drink, yes?" It was way too early in the morning for drinking... and he would have said "no" if he wasn't still working on creating a great impression "I do on occasion" "Then we drink! I fill you in on your mission details right? There are those out there who think they can kill the great Klearo! I laugh. Then they shoot at Klearo, so I call back the one they call the greatest shooter of Voltron!" Lance had to wonder if Klearo hadn't already started drinking before his arrival. It'd explain why the alien was so bloody loud. With his overly hairy appearance, he seemed like some kind of semi-intelligent ape rather than a diplomat. Having given his own peace talks, the kind of vibe he was picking up Klearo didn't match with what was expected. None the less. He'd come to do a job, and that he was exactly what he intended to do. * Klearo was awkward on stage. His jokes falling so flat that Lance felt a twinge of sympathy for the huge alien. He'd also learned that his presence at these kinds of things proved a hinderance more than a help. Totally not copying Keith or the Blades, Lance started employing the use of a full face mask, allowing the crowd to concentrate on Klearo rather than him. Not that Klearo seemed to care. The "warm" reception had faded the first time a person in the crowd called out of him to speak instead. He was on the outside of the rest of the team, leading to his anxieties only worsening. Part of him wanted to throw it all, go back home and play farmer, but the bigger part of him wanted to actually be useful. He didn't want go home as a failure all over again. He'd only been there for a movement before everything went quiznakking wrong. Forced to drink with an angry Klearo, it wasn't until his third of forth drink that he noticed something strange. His tongue was tingling, as were the tips of his fingers and toes. Standing beside the chair he was lounging in, Allura leaned in "Its drugged" Ignoring her, he drained the rest of his drink. What reason would they have to drug him? He was doing his job, even if he wasn't making friends. Struggling up, the world started to spin "Leandro?" "I think that's it for me" His words were slurred. Climbing to his feet, his legs wouldn't hold resulting in him landing ungainly on the floor "Did you drug me? Guys... come on..." Placing down his glass, Klearo rose "Bring him through. Don't damage him too badly" Hauled up by the arms, Lance tried to struggle against the drugs coursing through his system. Spluttering and mumbling weak objections, he was dragged along the hallway to Klearo's personal chambers. That's when Lance knew he was well and truly fucked. Thrown down on the bed in the middle of the room, Lance was flipped onto his back. His arms pulled upwards to be bound "No... let me go..." His slurred repeated utterances went ignored. The thin cloth of his casual shirt torn to pieces by a human-sized alien with four eerily green eyes. Blinking at him with his top two eyes, the alien didn't stop "Leave us!" Flinching at how loud Klearo's voice was, Lance "struggled" against his bindings. His eyelids drooping despite how hard he tried to hold open them. When the bed dipped under Klearo's weight, he screamed "Someone shut him up. His voice irritates my ears" Above him came a set of thick Galra arms, a gag shoved into his mouth causing his eyes to water. This... if this was a joke, he wasn't laughing "Do you have any idea how annoying you are? All we had to go through to get you? And you weren't even worth it in the end" That stung. Shouldn't it be a good thing if he didn't actually have to use the blaster he'd been provided with? Didn't that mean that the threats Klearo had received amounted to nothing? Feeling the aliens large hands on his hips, Lance whimpered as they were unzipped "You smell amazing. I've wanted to do this ever since I smelt you..." "Ngh!" That was the best no he could get out "And now I have my very own Paladin beneath me. I wanted your lion, but they say the lions left" He what now? What... oh... fuck. This was bad... twisting, he fought the numbness weighing him down. Trying his hardest to kick, he couldn't raise his legs off the bed "The Red Paladin. Affiliated with Fire. Show me why the people like you, instead of me!" The pain was nothing Lance could describe. The dull feeling of thick fingertips against his opening. The sharp rip as Klearo shoved a nailed finger inside, the swelling instinct to repel the foreign digit. The laughing goes Klearo as he shoved a second finger in. The moment of relief when the fingers slid out, the silent scream as his eyes shot wide when Klearo buried himself brutally between his legs in one sharp thrust. Screaming around the gag, his body rocked without his permission with each thrust Klearo gave, the haired alien taking his hips in his hands so hard Lance thought the bones were going to snap. Beside him Allura sat looking prim, a frown on her face the only sign that she felt something wrong with the situation. Vomiting into his mouth, Lance was torn a little further. Blood oozing over the blue sheets beneath him as turned red, spreading across his inner thighs as it smeared into Klearo's hair. The smell driving him into further hysteria. The sounds of wet slaps echoed in his ears. Picking up his pace, Klearo grabbed him by the hair as he grunted hard, tearing out a thick chunk as the man's dick pulsed, Klearo coming with enough force he felt as if the man was flooding him with a hose. Screaming in despair, choking on vomit and accidentally locking eyes with Allura, his body betrayed him. Dry orgasm from having his prostate pounded against incessantly rolled through him. The degree of shame was something he'd never thought possible. His employer had just raped him... and he'd come. Pulling out of him, Klearo hushed him as Lance's lower half spasmed with pain uncontrollably "My own Red Paladin painted with his own red blood... what a masterpiece" Clicking his fingers, a servant came forth. The moment the gag was removed, vomit spilt from his lips as he wretched and heaved "Pack him up. We leave tonight as planned. Make sure you don't let him die. We're getting that Red lion, and he's the key to it" The same arms came over his vision, Lance staring up at the ceiling as he was untied and gathered up onto the shoulder of a Galra. Carried out the bedroom, he could feel the cum and blood running down his thighs, the cold air of the manor slowly drying it into a crust as he bounced like a rag doll. He'd raped him and he'd come. Why?! Why did he come? He didn't want this... he didn't want any of this! Reaching a waiting vehicle, another hand came down to grab his hair, forcing his head up. Unable to raise his gaze, he stared at the red "y" shape on the arm. Was it a brand or a tattoo? He couldn't tell... he didn't know. Dropping his head, Lance's nose smacked against the fabric of his suit... a weird feeling bubbling up inside... he almost... wanted to laugh? Was it laugh? He didn't know what he wanted, his mind was foggy, slowly joining the uselessness his body held "He's still conscious. We can't have kicking up a fuss when drugs wear off. Put him under and keep him under until we arrive" "Yes, sir" * Stabled naked on the floor of a dingy room, Lance hovered in and out of consciousness. Every few vargas someone would come in and he'd been dosed with a glowing yellow liquid. With each passing dose, a moment of euphoria would pass through him. A taste of life he'd never felt before. But with each passing dose, the effects would wear off faster and faster. On the quintants it felt like they'd forgotten him, when the doses were further apart, the feeling of satisfaction they supplied lasted further. Left alone in the dark, Lance had all the time in the world to think. Shiro would have found a way out of here by name, his trade mark "patience yields focus" staying first and foremost in his mind. He was biding his time. Waiting until the drug doses came on the back of other. Waiting until they believed him too far out of it fight back. What did it all really matter anyway? Allura stood there and watched each time he was taken. She'd be there to sit beside him in the dark after they'd deposit his body back in the cold. He couldn't give them Red. He was long gone with the rest of the Lions. Lance was aware of how much Red had done to hold him together. How he'd shouldered Lance's burdens when Allura had died. How he soothed Lance with a gentle rumbling purr on the nights he woke up with no idea where he was. He didn't have Red anymore. Allura had brought him back wrong. His body was less and less his as the quintants passed, leaving him with a never ending boiling anger he could only direct inwards. Pain was the only thing that made things real. But whatever they shot him up with took away that pain... It could have movements. It could have even been phoebs, but as he'd expected his body adapted to the frequent injections. Lance now strong enough to hide the failings of their workings as he was escorted from his cell. He knew others were there somewhere. He'd heard screams night after night that attested to such. Dragged into Klearo's chambers, he stumbled as he was released and nudged towards the bed. Klearo insisted on taking him first, after him, the order didn't matter. Not moving fast enough, Lance was taken by the arm and forcible pulled across the space before being pushed down. His fingers itched to grab the blaster on his tormentors hip, yet he had to wait. He had to wait until Klearo was there, or none of this meant anything. Sitting like a doll at the end of the bed, he no longer flinched as the Galra by his side ran his hand down Lance's bare back. He no longer flinched when the beasts nails tore at his skin, adding to the already disturbing collection across his skin. Tucking a stray strand of hair back behind his ear, the Galra leaning in to sniff deeply "You smell so fucking good" Grinding his teeth together, Lance forced himself not to act. Patience yielded focus "Klearo wants you placid. Open your mouth" This was new. This wasn't in his plans. He couldn't let them force other drugs down his throat. Opening his mouth, the Galra pushed a hand flat against it, forcing tablets inside as he'd feared. He couldn't keep waiting. He couldn't go through that again. Biting the webbing between the thumb and pointer, Lance tore the flesh between his teeth. Howling in anger, the made it worse by tearing his hand way. Spitting out the flesh and tablets, blood ran down Lance's chin. His teeth and lips red as he smiled "You bastard!" Scrambling for his blaster, Lance snatched it up first. He felt nothing a he pulled the trigger. Nothing as he blood spurted from the shot to the neck. Firing again, he aimed for the groin, firing over and over until the Galra was dead on the floor. The piece of shit deserved it. They all fucking deserved it. Laughter bubbled up at the sight before him. The Galra's genitals shot to hell, a bloodied mess that couldn't even been called genitals. Stalking the halls of the ship Lance shot indiscriminately. He'd thought himself planet side due to the lack of the sounds of engines, and the constant streams of guests Klearo entertained. He knew the difference by now. Klearo's underlings all bore the same "y" like tattoo, Red in respect to their goal of taking the Red Lion. Despite being a largely Galra force, not all that followed Klearo were Galra. Lance's stomach had dropped when he'd learned the faction was made up of those who Voltron had failed. Klearo was indeed an ambassador. He was the ambassador of Voltron's failures. Lance no longer cared. He couldn't care. As he walked those halls, he was Leandro. Leandro got things done. Everyone associated with this fucked up... group deserved to die. So they did. It was that simple. Hunting them down as they ran, the ship's alarms blared dying the world red from the ship's flashing lights. Everything surrounding him was Red. Along the way he took clothes of smaller aliens closer to his side. His body was his. He was done with sharing his body without permission. It didn't matter that the clothes were bloodied, nor did it matter that the fabric was rough against his skin. They were best clothes he'd ever worn. Clearing all those he could find, Klearo had already left. Allura trailing behind him as he walked, pleading with him to take a pod and leave. Pleading with him to let those left live. He couldn't. If there was no trace of what had been done to him left, then it never happened. If it'd never happened to him, then he was just Leandro. Bodyguard and sharpshooter extraordinaire. Yeah. Lance was weak. Lance had been tricked. Leandro wouldn't be tricked. He wouldn't take mercy. He was going to track down Klearo and he was going to make sure that no one who knew what happened lived. His blue eyes were filled with humour as he strode through the bloodied halls. Laughter bubbled out his lips over how some bodies had slumped. Making his way to the control room, he strode over to the main computer, to find it locked. That wasn't very nice. He'd shown them such a good time with his body. Oh well. He was just going to have shoot the damn thing into submission. So he did. Destroying the control room with his blaster, thick acrid smoke rolled off the twisted metal as fire started to lick at the floor. It was tempting to stay, to let himself be consumed, but his mission wasn't done. His boss was out there unprotected and in need of his skills.

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