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jennsmischievousmind · 4 years

Text

Vhekadla

Vhekadla : Sandy

Pairing: Mando x mirialan!reader

Word count: 4.782

Warnings: Exile, reader not good with kids, mild swearing, slight angst, self-medication (needles (once))

Summary: Peli needs components for the failing vaporator in Hangar-2, you are meant to go the moisture farm to get them. But a renown bounty hunter lands in Hangar-3.

A/N: Some references to the OG trilogy and the following one. Can’t wait to see how many you find. Let me know.

I tried not to use any gender for reader (I’m still learning about it) Text in italic = reader’s internal thoughts English is not my native language, I’m trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

It was fun to reconnect with the lovely Star Wars nerd in me.

“A Mirialan would place a unique, often geometrically repeated tattoo on their face and hands to signify that they had completed a certain test or task, or achieved sufficient aptitude for a certain skill. The number of tattoos would thus often act as a good indicator of how mature and/or skilled a Mirialan was.”

You heard Peli calling out from the hangar, jumping down the reactor you were working on, you step on hangar 3′s threshold. Glancing through your fingers’ shielding the sun, as the pre-Imp beat up vessel lands in Hangar 3. You rolled down your sleeves as Peli look back at you.

“He doesn’t really like droids, so you’ll have to step-in.” stopping next to her you nodded, readjusting your tool belt.

Working for Peli you thought you'd seen everything in terms of species. Until the vessel's ramp lower down with a hiss, a shiny Mandalorian walking out.

Your eyes went to Peli and the approaching bounty hunter as she made her way to him grinning, awaiting for him to give her something. The tall, beskar clad individual gave a small green creature to Peli whom started to coo at it. Weird.

“Glad you decided to keep him.” She waved a finger your way giving you the go-to.

Treading to the gunship, the T shape visor of the Mandalorian followed your form, you didn’t pay much attention to it, hunters could be precious about their engines.

Plugging your datapad in the cargo bay panel you ran a quick diagnostic, looking around the ship while waiting, the hull was oddly neat you noted. The Datapad biped loudly, detailing the ships problems. This old thing was still flying, how, who knew.

“What’s with the Mirialan?"

“What can I tell? I’m going soft! Coz of your womp rat for sure.” He said nothing waiting for her to continue

“They needed the job, no questions ask. But don’t ask about the tattoos, they can be moody,”

“I heard that,” you strolled down the left telescopic gate, heading for the front repulsorlfits.

Why were they talking about you? Do they know each other much? Why a bounty hunter was carrying a child-like thing.

Stepping into the cockpit, you refrained on sitting on the pilot seat, you always felt that pilot seats were as intimate as beds. The Datapad ran a new diag, you eye the control panel, tilting your head seeing something was missing.

The Mandalorian stood tall before Peli “I have things to do!”

Peli waved him off “Yeaah go hunt, we’ll fix your ship in the meantime,”

After a few hours, drenched in sweat and sticky black goo on your hands you finally ease yourself in the cockpit “That should be good, punch it!” you yelled to the 3 pit-droids outside. After hearing the droids tripped on each other, they activated the engine, launching the hyperdrive for a last test.

The Mandalorian made his way back in the hangar just in time to see you hopping down the cargo ladder, sweeping your greasy hands on your overalls.

He couldn’t help but noticed the tattoos showing at your wrists as your sleeves had rolled up.

“This is not going to be a recurrent thing.” You heard the Mandalorian say, clearly annoyed. Approaching them, you could feel the Mandalorian was tense, Peli took the datapad you handed her, you tried your best no to stare at the broad shoulders at your right.

Finally noticing him, and his T-visor staring at your wrists, you swiftly turned around and brushed the sleeves back down; “She’s up to fly. The hyperdrive is as brain new, we made a few check-ups on the engines since they were coughing a bit,” you rounded a crate, looking back at him, your sleeves now attached to your fingers, “and the lights are back on!” you index pointed to the lamp on the ceiling.

“You’ll want a price cut, as I can see here,”

You glanced at the visor for a second, what did Peli ask him to do? “Fine,” he sighed.

“Go to the moisture farm and get my parts,” she patted at his pauldron, “you’ll be his guide.“ you were so engrossed in Peli’s friendliness with the bounty huinter that it didn’t click immediatly. Until it did.

“Hold on, what?” voice rising a notch “I told you I’d go,.. alone!” you argued

“With all the recent things happening in this forsaken desert, I’d rather not send you alone.”

Stepping closer to Peli, your back to the Mandalorian, you stared at her, she stared back, not having it. She knew you could take down a Gamorrean if needed.

“Boss, …”

“For Force’s sake don’t argue with me,” She shooed you away, you knew she wouldn’t let go.

“You still have that speeder bike?” his modulated voice rang in your back as you made your way to the fresher to clean yourself up.

Peli snarled “I’m gonna start renting it.”

Waiting near the speeder bike, Peli handed you the credits to pay for the binary brain unit and humidity sensor, she needed it for the vaporator in H-2. The moisture farm you were heading to had the parts since they owned the same vaporators.

“You can trust him,” she nudged her jaw to the approaching Mandalorian.

“I’ll be the judge of that,”

“He’s like family, call him Mando,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. Peli wouldn’t leave the city walls since the Empire fell, so obviously it became your task to get the parts or hardware from out of the walls. Before that she’d lost a few droids in the desert.

The Mandalorian rounded the speeder, securing a bag on the right side, a green little head popped out of it.

“I don’t think ‘it’ should come, if we encounter any bandits or raiders.”

The thing looked at the his keeper “Don’t worry about that, he’s seen worse.”

You turned to Peli, eyes widenned and flailing hands. She shrugged her famous grin on. Head lolling back and squeezing your eyes shut you let out a sigh then swiveled to him. “I drive, you shoot?” you ask adjusting your scarf around your mouth and nose.

“What?” he genuinely asked. Shaking your head amused you nod your head to the main seat for him to take. It'll be easier to hold him than him hold you.

Straddling the speeder you felt tiny behind him, the beskar was cold even under the twins suns, a gurgle took your attention off the reflecting beskar in front of you. Wrinkled critter.

Keeping a grip on Mando’s side you check the Holo map as the speeder bike hovered at its fastest speed. Gesturing at Mando to indicate the path, the moisture farm would be visible in a few visvia. A glare caught your eye a second too late, you flew from the speeder, crashing hard against the burning sand. Between your grunts and those of the Mandalorian you heard Tusken Raiders' howls.

Groaning you hold your ribs rolling on your good side “Freaking dehydrated Raiders!” The little green being was confused a meter from you, sadly sat on the sand. “Mando, your .. kid,” his broad shadow came into view, soon scooping the child.

Finger at the trigger you look up at the cliffs “Thought you were friends with them!”

The Mandalorian was trying to salvage the speeder bike while you looked at the map for a safer and faster path, still eyeing the cliffs now and then. “Don’t bother, engine’s burnt.” Greeny made a worried sound.

“The tuskens, they are the shoot first, ask question later kind of people,” he posted himself on your right, you glanced at him stealthily. Even without seeing his face, his demeanour showed he was pissed off.

“You both have something in common,” you sheath your blaster in the small of the back holster.

“What?” you sensed it took it the wrong way, so quickly clarified “Showing skin is not allowed,”

“Just as your not allowed to show your tattoos!” he riled back.

Your head jerked back, you were not expecting the backlash. You stalked past him, “We should go, the farm ain’t far!” putting as much distance between you and the bounty hunter.

The Mandalorian regretted his words as soon as they came out. He surely was the last one to have a say about others’ customs and beliefs. Your behavior somehow disarmed him, he didn't know how to act anymore.

The suns were getting low in your back, you thank the maker your body was acclimated for dry lands. The hair at your nape rose in a instant, you looked back at the horizon standstill for a few seconds.

"We must take shelter," you whispered. The green critter tilted his head to you followed by his Mandalorian whom picked up your words through his enhanced helmet.

"Sandstorm!" you ran past him, heading for the rocks ahead.

Pulling your large scarf around your face, the Mandalorian was hot on your tail, you realized you wouldn’t like to be one of his bounty, his impressive broadness and the heavy beskar made you shivered. Sliding between two big rocks, you fumbled with your water jug, quickly wetting your scarf around your mouth. The Mandalorian soon joined you with a distorted groan, the baby oddly excitied about the run out was babbling.

"Here," you wet a rag you kept in your rucksack handing it to to him. "It’ll need it," taking the rag from your hand he gently folded it and wrapped the child’s mouth and pointy ears. A gust of hard wind and sand hit the rocks, the light disappearing instantly you found yourself enveloped in a dusty copper shadow. Clenching your eyes shut, your hands immediately went to the child's eyes. You felt his little hands holding onto yours. It’s not a game you thought. The sand was hard on the few uncovered patches of skin on your face, but it soon stopped. You could still hear the wind, the sand rattling the rocks but you couldn't feel it anymore. Opening your eyes carefully, your head jerked back. Beskar. The T visor of his helmet was staring at you. Looking up you saw his arm holding his cape around you three. Your hand unconsciously slowly slipped from the child's eyes. Your reflection was staring at you with wide eyes, its closeness made you uneasy yet not unwelcomed, as the kid was still holding your fingers, this one whined.

“It won’t take long,” Mando spoke, his head dropping to the green child. Adverting your eyes from his visor you scolded yourself, and your increasing heartbeat.

His eyes were trained on your geometrical tattoos adorning your delicate face, he didn’t expect to lost himself in your eyes as you opened them. His gut twisted when you moved back with a start.

Few minutes later you were dusting sands from your hair and clothes “We should be at the farm in a bit,”

He nodded "I hope they have a speeder to lend us there,”

That yes, coz I won't make it back by walking. I'm no bantha

Both of you let out a relieved sigh when the farm appeared in the horizon. Bhindi Kayle welcomed you in the abode, the farm was practically empty, all the workers were home or in town, only an old man sat at the far end of a bench. Bhindi Kayle was an old aquaintance of Peli, he cut you off as soon as you started talking, he stood before you oddly trying to assert a sort of dominance, he’d never been like that.

"Yeah Peli send us a hologram earlier this week,” Mando's chest heaved as soon as the farmer interrupted you. “Didn't expect a Mandalorian to work for her,"

Aaah, a men’s ego.

The kid babbled a confused note, "I'm not working for Motto," Mando stated, galled.

"The Mandalorian is ... here for protection, somehow." The child looked at you from the satchel on Mando's hip.

The old man rumbled from the corner, "A mirialan, a Mandalorian and a ... whatever that is ... roaming around Tatooine, what a sight."

"Ah don't listen to him, he lost his mind since the Lars’ farm got burned down,” Bhindi leaned in whispering ”inhaled too much smoke while trying to raid the place."

Negotiating the parts’ price was not in the deal but knowing Peli wasn’t here, Bhindi tried. Yeah tried, not for nothing Peli Motto took you in, you were as stubborn as a falumpaset, gosh you missed Naboo.

"Do you have a speeder?” Mando asked his tone becoming a bit hesitant “Ours ... blown off on the way," your refrained a smirk.

"Well, we have swoops but you'll be back to Peli in days at that speed." You followed him through the pit to the garage. Eyes skimming the messy place, looked like a junkyard, the green kid was touching everything, you lose your footing on a piece of scrap while looking at it, firm gloved hands propped you up by the shoulders without a word. Embarrassment filed you as Mando’s hands left your shoulders with hesitation.

"Are those... pieces of a Bantha-II cargo skiff?" You stepped onto the old railing, trying to distract yourself from the burning feel of his touch. "Where did you get that?"

"That old rusty thing? We found it a few years back. The Hutts might have abandoned it, thankfully for us the Jawas were late on this one." Bhindi rummaged through a bunch of metal "We keep some engines we found for the parts, just in case. Ah!"

He proudly showed his finding. You heard the Mandalorian groaned behind you.

"Might be cramp on it with the two of you, but it can do."

Mando was not amused "A skimboard?" his hands reached his hips, he stood there staring at Bhindi. Stepping down the railing, a light smile spread on your lips.

"I'm good with it," you grabbed the board "you fly, I use the skimboard," his bucket head turned to you, the heavy silence coming from the Beskar clad man had Bhindi lose his tough demeanour, but had you amused.

"Hum, I can probably find an old speeder bike," The Mandalorian nodded at the farmer.

Inspecting the slick metal, your hand dusted off the sand of off it "How much for it?"

"25 alliance credits will do," he shrugged. "Deal," Bhindi hurried away in the back of the garage.

“I’ll be back in a minute,”stepping out the junkyard, you head for the hydroponic garden.

The sand had crawled under your layers, it soon became itchy and abrasive. Stripping down your top layers, you stayed in your dark undershirt. Vigorously dusting off your copper colored top and black hood, the dusts particles shining under the sun rays. Cupping water in your hands, your let the fresh water ran down your tattooed arms. Cold water on your face never felt so good, even after hours working on a spaceship it wasn’t as satisfying.

“Khayle found us a landspeeder” you gasped at his voice, holding your arms around you and turning your back to him; Mando became even more silent than usual. The tattoos on your arms and body were not to be seen by everyone, it wasn’t as strict as Mandalorian’s creed or the Tuskens but still, you were meant to choose the few who would see them. The one on your face were your achievement, your proudness, you could show them. But those on your body were more personal, promises to your species, and to yourself. Since the farm was empty you thought it would be safe to undress, apparently not.

Mando paused, he wasn’t expecting that, seeing the tattoos on your wrists earlier he thought that was it but seeing your inked arms and shoulders blades he felt pulled by curiosity but as soon as he saw you flinched and tried to hide your arms, he turned away.

He walked out, not saying a word, thinking about what he said earlier. Peli did warn him. Feeling your rushed breathing haven out, and the thundering sound of your bloodstream into your ears fading you reached for your copper long sleeve top. As you tried to snatch it you felt a resistance, the child, coming to you his little claws up to touch your arms. Big dark eyes staring at you, oddly similar to the dark visor of his keeper. Feeling that pull deep inside, you frowned putting your hood on and grabbing the child, holding it bunglingly, he kept looking at you.

“You forgot something.” You gently shoved him the child, then rounded the landspeeder.

Bhindi casually leaned on the abode “You should stay for the night, Raiders thrive at night.”

Mando watched you sit at the driver’s seat, your hood hiding your expression. “We’ll be fine,” he answered not sparing a glance at Bhindi. The child fell asleep an hour after leaving the moisture farm that’s when Mando decided to talk.

“If I’d known ...” you stayed silent “Did I endanger your faith or beliefs?” he asked seriously concerned.

“Mirialans, we …” you scoffed “I’ll be fine.”

Something in his tone changed “I’m sorry, it wasn’t done on purpose.” The child’s ears settled down in a snore; it was as he was feeling his keeper’s trouble even through his sleep.

“Something happened, when I was not even an idea.” you felt compelled to tell the story behind the tattoos since he saw most of them. “My ancestor was part of the Senate, she believed in a way of life, now long forgotten. She fought for it but soon realized it was wrong, she was never meant to fight, she was meant to keep the peace. Her loyalty faded, she did bad things ... I’m bond to her in some ways I can’t explain.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent, you were used to it at this point.

“The old Galactic Senate banished her. No one remembers Bariss Offee now, she's been long gone. But I do.”

“The old Galactic Senate...” Mando clenched his fist “I heard about it,”

“Some of my tattoos are meant to heal her soul through me. After her fall, my family scattered, we were forbidden to talk about her, we were forced to strip ourselves from our knowledge. I was young, my parents flew us to another galaxy, there we live like humans. But my parents kept one of our custom, the tattoos.” you shrugged, even Peli didn’t know about all this, she knew about your exile but that’s all.

“I…I don’t know if I can say this and my apologize if it’s misplaced but you .. uhm” Mando asked himself why he was so stressed about telling you his honest feel about it “..they are ..pretty,” the repulsorlift the only sound perceptible. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, especially coming from the renown bounty hunter, eyes leaving the road you stared at him confused but somehow relieved, your hood flew back reveling your face to him.

A tuskens battle cry made you break, standing up on your seat, immediately reaching for your blaster and glowrod.

“Hold on,” he posed the sleeping child on your seat, getting down.

“Mando, they shoot us once, I’m not taking any chance,”

“I’ll talk to them,” he stated calmly “lower your blaster and stay close,”

You inhaled loudly, putting away your weapon. Emerging from the dark, tall figures soon surrounded you. The deep grunt coming out the helmet at your side startled you, his gestures and groans had the attention of the faceless Raiders. The silence on their part didn’t do much to ease your worry until they answered, though you couldn’t understand, the stance of your companion made you feel safe.

“They’re saying we should camp out, another tribe, the one who shot us is ahead of us,”

“Camp out, with them?” you whispered as if they could understand you “I heard things about them,”

“Not everything you hear is true,” Mando’s visor was trained on your hesitating features. Well you didn’t have much of a choice, you weren’t going to leave without him and the green thing.

“You take the first watch,” you gathered your backpack, he nodded at you, preceding you.

The kid now awaken, was nestled between his keeper’s feet, staring at the fire in front of him. It might have felt you staring because his little ears perked up and he soon waddled to you. The kid kept trying to hold you or touch your hand.

"Is it always like that? Clingy?" You poked the child’s forehead making him wobble back.

Mando tilted his head with a sigh, silently asking if your gesture was really necessary.

"Not really," He reached for the child but this latter whined, settling when he grabbed your index’ first phalanx.

"You were saying!?" You sighed as the kid looks like he was concentrating on your finger. As he kept doing that you felt that pull again, deep inside of you, an inner energy you usually only could feel during your ancestor’s vision. It scared you, snatching your finger from the kid, you look at the big eyes now staring at you. "What are you!"

“Easy,” Mando ushered the kid back to him “He has powers, I should have warned you,”

“What kind of power?”

“He can move things with his mind or something similar” your mind processed the news, “I’ve been quested to bring him back to his kind,"

The child climbed your feet to get closer, your lips turned down in an uneasy grimace, you weren't exactly gifted with children, if it was one though. Clingy beings, loud and stinky, not your thing.

The Mandalorian kept an eye on you without your knowledge, he'd never seen anyone be so hesitant with the child before.

Mando talked with the Tuskens while you ate, he sometimes translated for you in case you were interested in their conversation.

....

"You are missing a piece on the turbines’ launch lever by the way, want another one!?" You asked him sleepily, "That won't be necessary," he chuckled and it caught you off guard but you said nothing.

A young tusken handed you a fur cloth, hesitantly grabbing it you eyed Mando, he made a gesture to the raider.

"I take the first watch," even with his vocoder you could hear the grin.

Waking up in a sweat you observed your surroundings. A bantha was snoring loudly next to a pack of sleeping tuskens. A soft snore not far from you got your attention. The child was tucked on Mando's side, his ears heaving with his breaths.

The fire reflecting on the beskar mesmerized you, it was like Mando's was made of fire. Was he sleeping?

“You’re okay?”

“My ribs hurts, I’m cold, but I’m managing.” you stood up, stepping closer to the fire. “Take some rest, it’s my shift.”

“Here,” you turned around just in time to caught the e-bacta shot, Mando closed his belt pocket and crossed his arms, leaning on a rucksack, ready to rest.

“Thanks..” you stared at his calm composure, forgetting he could still be looking at you behind that visor.

Your gaze on him got him agitated, he tried his best to rest his eyes but he couldn’t detached his from yours, somehow you always manage to made eye-contact, most people didn’t even dare look straight at him. He stayed alert as you went to the land speeder, lifting your top enough to reach your bruised flank, he saw you brace yourself for the shot.

1,2 “Hmmm!!!” you muffled your groan in your elbow as the three needles deeped in your flesh, youknew that in a few minutes you’ll be alright but maker it hurt.

The suns getting up, you were seated on the land speeder’s hood watching the twins made their entry, I’ll never get tired of this.

“We’re good to go, the other tribe moved north,” Mando set the child on the hood next to you to thanks the Tuskens.

The child lifted his head to you, silently staring, suddenly rushing to you head bumping your hip “ "Oof!” he angrily cuddled your side “Mando, what’s going on with it?”

“Hey, hey kid, no!” he cradled him into his arms “what did you do?”

“Nothing!” you jumped down the hood “It slammed into me,”

“He never acts like that, there’s something with you,” Mando stated

“Oh maker come on Mando,” your voice tightened “I’m a nobody, an exile mirialan, I’m no Jedi like my ancestor!” you realised as soon as you said it, screwing your eyes shut.

“Your ancestor was a Jedi?”he stepped forward, his demeanour now threatening but you stood your ground. “And you’re telling me now?”

“Mando I, ... I’m not sure about it, I don’t even understand the visions I have, that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“We should go!” he shut himself, the child whined against his keeper’s chest.

The ride back to Peli was excruciating, Mando didn’t talk to you or ease the kid’s fuss. The three of you made it back to Peli without issues.

She was about to make one of her famous punchline but she saw your concerned face as you passed by her deposing the vaporator’s pieces on her desk.

Peli planted herself before him “What did you do?” he sighed.

Mando watched as the door hiss closed behind you.

“How much do you know about them?”

“What’d you do!?” Peli insisted before answering his question. As stubborn as you he thought. He related the conversation, he’d never seen Peli so mad.

The soft knock on your door told you it wasn't Peli. It opened on your command.

“We need to talk,” Mando stepped-in

“Oh now you want to talk!” you threw a wrench in your tool box “We had a full ride for that.”

“You lied to me!” he pointed his finger to the ground

“I didn’t LIE to you! I just ..didn’t tell you all of it. Jedis and Mandalorians are not exactly friends for all I know,”

“The child might be a Jedi and you didn’t care to tell me you knew about he’s people.” the tiny bedroom was crowded with his presence, deep inside behind the anger lied a fluttering feeling when he entered your space.

“My ancestor had that kind of power, but I don’t know shit about it, I told you if you were to even listen!” tears at the brim at your eyes remembering your parents’ tale about their exile, you inhaled trying to stay focused.

“I’ve listened,” he regained his neutral tone “if you are like your ancestor then maybe you have that power in you, that’s why the child is reaching out to you, he might feel it,”

you scoffed “I’m a mecha not a Jedi,” the child made you jumped when he touched your hand, he had climbed the comforter hanging from your cot.

“Mando, I’d … never mean to hide things from you, I’m just..scared.” You let the child hold your finger “An unknown powerful energy in me, how would you react! Even if I’d want to know, I don’t even know where to start.”

He nodded leaving your cramped bedroom with the child. Few minutes later Peli called out, sighing you drag your feet to her desk.

“What is it that you want Motto?” you taunted but the teasing voice died seeing Mando on the other side of her seat.

“I’ve been quested to bring him to the jedi.” his visor on you, knitted your brows you wait for his speech. “I could use a mecha on board, one that needs answer of some sorts,” his grave voice resonated in your ears, he faced Peli while saying it. She sighed knowingly; her face torned with doubts.

“I can’t, Peli you need me and I ..”

“Kid, I’ve seen you distraught after your visions, it’s getting worse,” Peli sighed “Well, I’m not saying losing my best mecha is ideal,” you tried your best to keep the feelings at bay “…but go if you have to, I’ll managed” she patted you shoulder, herself containing her sniffles.

“Take care of this piece of junk,” she snorted making you laugh.

“I’ll come back,”

“Don’t you dare, you're young, get out of this desolate place. Go get the galaxy,”

Smiling at her you hugged her tight “Oh come on, come on” she shooed you away, striding to your room to pack, you didn’t see her made eyed contact with Mando’s visor, a silent plead to keep you safe, he nodded.

Stepping in the cockpit, you sat on the passenger seat at his right. The green being was on your right eyeing you, you suprised yourself smiling at him. Mando came in and the kid starts to shift in his pod, you watched Mando as he took something on the control panel and swivelled to the baby. Thlatter reached out, his keeper letting a shiny metal ball fall into his little claw.

“That’s…” you said out loud. Your eyes darted to the turbines launcher’s lever. Mando finally turned to you and shrugged tilting his helmet.

“A mirialan, a Mandalorian and a Jedi ... what a sight.”

#The Mandalorian x reader #Mando x reader #mando fanfiction #Mando imagines #Mirialan reader #force sensitive reader #slow burn #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin imagines #Vhekadla #Mando x mirialan!reader

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poepoe-thebunny · 4 years

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Rudy/Tony and Fam during Quarantine

Cause this is where my life is at, apparently. I thought I escaped the “quarantine fever writing” that everyone else got. Apparently I was wrong.

After another visit to the castle, the Thompson’s end up there in quarantine once miss rona hits the world. Thank god for WI-FI and working remotely, even if his parents look vaguely like zombies due to time zone differences. Tony can’t talk, his online schooling schedule is all sorts of weird and he’s pretty sure his teacher just wants to sleep until the whole thing is over. Honestly Tony can’t say he blames her.

The Sackville-bagg clan, as it turns out, is a surprisingly overprotective bunch when they need to be, especially now that they have accepted their humans into the fold. Even with catching up on modern medicine and germ theory, they won’t allow anything to happen to their precious humans.

(AU/headcanons incoming??

Rudy/Tony:

- Think Rudy was protective before? Think again.

- Rudy is over 300 years old, he’s old by human standards and he has met people who are old by vampire standards. He’s seen Things(TM) ok?

- He has been through more than one plague in his life. He has seen what it can do to the sick and the poor. He knows it’s a different now, that life-saving machines exist, that they’re working on a vaccine, that soap is widely available.

- But he also knows it’s not.

- Tony? Not going anywhere as far as he is concerned. Say hello to your prince, Rapunzel, cause Rudy is keeping Tony up in that tower if it kills him (again).

- He knows where all of Tony’s masks are, and where he puts the extras.

- He’ even shops online for masks with Tony, finding cool hand-sewn, gothic looking ones for Rudy himself to wear. He’s not sure if Corona even effects vampires, but Tony likes finding stuff to match his “aesthetic’ and it keeps his mortal happy.

- He waits on his mortal hand and foot in between videogames and watching Netflix. (Tony likes How to Train Your Dragon and Paranorman, Rudy likes The Little Prince and Kubo and the Two Strings.).

- Rudy’s first introduction to Tumblr is through Tony, and at one point they reach the Plague Doctor Aesthetics. While Rudy hasn’t spent much time in Italy, he doesn’t think they’re very accurate, and complains as such to his mortal.

- Rudy is surprisingly easily offended about historically inaccurate things, and it sends Tony into laughing fits.

- Rudy is Bad At Memes. Like, just in general he doesn’t always get them, and when Corona Memes become a thing he’s just constantly confused. Poor Rudy honestly.

- Tries to learn to cook healthy human food, except he hasn’t had any major kitchen experience in 200-odd years and it comes out as a disaster the first few times he tries it.

- It turns into a teaching session between him and the other adult humans, turns out the old couple who owns the castle like to feed people. Rudy walks into Tony’s room with a tray piled so high Tony can’t see his head.

-Always offering to fly around the castle to get things for Tony, even if he isn’t sick.

- TikTok dances. Tony shows him, then teaches him. Rudy is shockingly good at them, but Gregory thinks he’s cringy.

Gregory:

(Not me flexing my love of the good big brother trope, absolutely not, nope)

- Surprisingly rather take charge about the whole thing, he’s come around to the Thompson’s and the old couple.

- While his parents help when they can, they sort of take a step back, and let the three siblings explain what’s happening in the world to the clan (if they are there). Being the oldest, Gregory sort of defaults to being the leader.

-Checks in with the Thompson’s, as well as Otto and Emma (The old couple who run the place.) Asks if they need anything while they work/are in school etc.

- Warns the clan to be very careful when visiting, not just for the Thompson’s, but also because Otto and Emma are getting on in years and could become sick very easily. Always asks for a heads up before a family visit.

- Won’t tell anyone but, late at night if he’s not busy, he’ll do things around the castle for the humans, especially upkeep for Otto and Emma, while they sleep.

- Dusting hard to reach spots like chandeliers, organizing books in the old castle library, moving heavy furniture and stuff since he can fly.

-Low key drags Rudy and Anna into helping him clean

(”But Gregory, this is our home now too! I’m sure they don’t mind.”

“Humans are fragile, and they’re letting us stay here out of kindness, so don’t be rude. Clean up after yourself little brother.”

“He’s right you know.”

“Of course I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning the rafters Anna, and stop leaving your books everywhere for them to pick up.”

‘hmph.” )

- Of the vampires he’s lowkey the best at cooking human food. Tony, Rudy, and Anna just walk into the kitchen at night and Fredrick is just watching his eldest, genuinely amused, as he dances around the kitchen in a “Kill the Cook (Too late, I’m already dead)” apron, blasting out dad rock from the stereo.

-Bonds with the Thompsons over cooking human food, especially Tony’s dad after he teaches Gregory what an “air guitar” move is.

-Gregory discovers pinterest food aesthetics, and is a machine of baking, mixing, and decorating sweet candies/cakes/brownies. He wants his food to look pretty dang it.

- Anna and Rudy just watch, silently judging him.

Anna:

- She’s just thriving tbh.

- She has internet access now, and her brothers have never been more terrified.

-If Gregory is the vampire equivalent of a pinterest mommy, Anna is the vampire equivalent of creepy diy aesthetic tiktokers.

-Not like, bloody horror diy, but like, the subtly creepy but still sweet kind, like the Addams family or Coraline.

- She learned needle arts with her mom, so she’s out here sewing Coraline dolls, or patchwork dresses a la Nightmare Before Christmas cause she CAN.

-Makes her own handbag with those felt cartoonish vampire faces and big fake bat ears on the side.

-Learns more modern patterns and stuff, but will make masks for the humans as gifts, cause she doesn’t want them to get sick.

- After watching Coraline together, she made “Other Me” dolls of her brothers, button eyes included, and stuck them in their coffins. She would make them “move’ by flying them around to different rooms when her brothers weren’t looking, just to freak them out.

- Spoiler alert: it worked. They ran to Tony for help and she laughed over it for days.

- Anna loves adventure books to Rudy’s poetry and Gregory’s fables/folk tales. She hates being excluded from her brothers “adventures”.

-Tony introduces her to comics and video games and she just lives her best life.

-One of her favorite comic book character is Cassandra Cain/Blackbat/The Orphan.

- She loves books like Matilda, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Giver, as well as games like the Lara Croft/Tomb Raider series.

-VICIOUS at video games, this girl has no mercy, she will blue shell you so hard.

The Adults:

-Life is Hard(TM) right now, but the Thompson’s try to make the best of it. They’re very grateful to Otto and Emma for letting them stay.

-They’re both working remotely, so they’re a little messed up sleep schedule wise. But that’s ok, their vampire friends don’t seem to mind.

- Freda teaches Dottie how to make proper tea, cause she likes it and Dottie is sort of addicted to caffeine. Dottie teaches Freda how to make mochas and smoothies, Dottie likes mango-pineapple smoothies and Freda likes hot white chocolate mochas with cinnamon.

-Surprisingly, Frederick and Bob become pretty good friends. Frederick understands the stress of having to care for your family in very uncertain times, and the two men bond over unsure parental decisions.

-Bob is also surprisingly good at making Frederick loosen up, much to Freda and Dottie’s amusement. While initially awkward, they have a surprisingly snarky and sarcastic sort of friendship. Frederick deadpans insults at him and Bob cheerfully annoys him into Being Nice For Once while being completely aware of the fact that he’s annoying Frederick.

-Meals where Bob cooks often consists of him singing oldies into his spatula, making bad impression of certain singers, including Elvis and Cher. He is occasionally joined by Tony and Gregory, making the entire family laugh.

- Anna’s bones may be old, but she can hand sew like a goddess, and has occasionally taken to fixing up the kids’ torn clothes, as Dottie can barely keep straight lines and Freda prefers knitting.

- Someone (read: Freda) mentions that Frederick can play the cello, and after a rousing performance, it turns out that Otto can play an accordion, and of course Bob can play the guitar. A jam session occurs as the kids just stare in utter bewilderment.

- Tony’s grandparents were kinda hippies, so Bob and Dottie know a lot of oldies and folk songs, which while different than from what they normally hear, Otto and Anna connect too. They swap songs back and forth, and it turns out Dottie can do a mean Loretta lynn impression.

- Dottie likes the Beach Boys, and teaches the others how to Twist. As in, the dance, and Freda actually likes it quite a bit.

#the little vampire 3d #the little vampire #TLV #rudolf sackville-bagg #gregory sackville-bagg #anna sackville bagg #tony thompson #quarantine #is fever writing a thing???#I think it is #This is fever writing #Forgive me fandom for I have sinned

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fallout-fucker · 4 years

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Commonwealth Unsolved: Part One, The Museum of Witchcraft

"Today on Commonwealth Unsolved, we're going to be taking a look at the strange and unsettling Museum of Witchcraft as part of our ongoing investigation into the question: Are ghosts real?" The first ghoul starts boldly, his voice crisp and distinct, yet strangely soothing, a voice used to narration. The second ghoul rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief, making the first grin. "You don't seem very open to the idea, Shane."

"We've been asking this for over 200 years. Ghosts don't exist, Ryan." Shane drags, making a point to say Ryan's name back to him sarcastically, in retaliation to his own being used. The smaller man laughs, messing with the microphone he'd fixed to his Pib-Boy.

"And after all we've seen, you still don't believe in ghosts? Not even a little?"

"What? What have we seen? We live in the apocolypse, there's nothing to see but dead people and junk." Ryan wheezes, grinning from ear to ear as he looks at his partner.

"What if some of those dead people are ghosts now? Waiting for us to go to the museum to find them?"

"What? Every single ghost? There's just a hoarde of dead people who have nothing better to do for the rest of eternity than wait for us to visit them? What are they waiting for? A 'come back to life soon' card?"

Ryan breaks into a fit of laughter, shaking his head, "That's not what I-" He cuts himself off, wheezing and choking slightly. Shane joins him a little, cracking his own smile and hint of a chuckle. Once Ryan calms down a little, however, he clears his throat. "Let's just get into it," He begins. "Built in 1972, Salem's Museum of Witchcraft was built in remembrance to victims killed during the Salem witch trials which began in 1692. Over 300 years later, the museum is now a breeding ground for rumours and a hot spot for what people claim as 'strange activity'. A reliable source from the Commonwealth's Great Green Jewel itself states that 'something bad went down there' recently, despite it being 'abandoned'."

"How'd you get into Diamond City?"

"Well I couldn't go in, I was chatting to one of the-" Ryan stops himself abruptly, "I mean, my source- Just outside the city walls, you know near all the turrets and arrows?" He says, gesturing with his hand slightly in a circular motion.

Shane laughs. "Way to almost get your 'source' in trouble there, Ryan. It wasn't Piper, was it?"

Ryan shakes his head. "No, it wasn't Piper." He smiles. "Even if it was, I wouldn't tell you," He shifts, changing the subject, "But I am talking to her about that- That other thing, you know for the other episode later? Well, I guess it's two other things-"

The taller ghoul nods his head. "Ah, yes, the mysterious two other things."

Ryan snorts, "Fuck off."

Shane snickers. "Okay, okay, other than ghosts, what do you think could be in the museum? And don't say aliens." He says, pointing his finger at Ryan and eyeing him accusingly.

"I don't know- An animal maybe? Some raiders? That's what some people have been theorizing. Maybe it's a Deathclaw?"

"It's not a Deathclaw-"

"What if it is-"

"Well then, we're as- We're as good as dead- Look, if it's a Deathclaw, I will eat my own boot, how's that?"

"Deal." Ryan smirks, shaking Shane's hand. The other man couldn't look more done with him. Ryan presses the stop button on the device attached to his arm, pausing the holotape's recording of them.

The air is cold and bitter, Ryan can see his breath turn to mist in front of him as he hugs himself tighter. One of the worst things about being a ghoul is the increased chance of illness and also increased chance of fatality from said illness, so he's not exactly grateful for the cold Autumn air. It worries him that he might catch a cold.

The orange and brown leaves on the ground crunch beneath his feet as him and Shane walk closer to the side of the Museum, stopping when they see the mutilated corpse of what looks like a Gunner.

"Well it's a good job we're in a graveyard." Shane quips. Two hundred years ago he may have been a little more sensitive and considerate, and more likely to throw up at having seen a dead body. Fortunately for them, though, living through two centuries of irradiated wastelands gets you used to seeing dead bodies enough to gain a morbid sense of humour rather than going numb upon every corpse you come across or create. "Holy moly, there's a stash!" Shane reaches around one of the graves and fiddles with a hollow rock, pulling out some ammo, a rifle, and a note. Another thing that surviving the apocolypse teaches you is how to be good at spotting hidden stashes, something Shane and his beady eyes have always been good at since day one. Ryan sums it up to his height, being tall's gotta help you spot things.

"What's the note say?"

Shane shrugs. "Just someone named 'S' saying they missed their friend, 'E', at Megaton and left them some gifts."

"Megaton? That's all the way back in DC, right? Yeah, we lived there for a few years about- What? About ten years ago?"

Shane nods. "And I swear we found a rock outside Megaton with the exact same kinda note."

"Maybe the real mystery isn't the Museum, maybe it's who the Hell S and E are."

Shane laughs, pocketing the note and moving towards the Gunner. "Maybe." He bends down, searching carefully through their pockets and rucksack, pulling out more ammo, some caps, a pair of holotags, and a holotape. He holds the holotape up to Ryan, an eyebrow raised. Ryan shrugs and watches as Shane inserts it into his own Pib-Boy, listening carefully as the audio cackles to life. He winces slightly, audio recordings not being what they used to be, worn down and damaged now. You think he'd be used to it, but there's only so much you wouldn't miss from before the war. Sadly, clean audio was one of the many things he did find himself missing.

It starts with a woman's voice as she talks boredly about the job she and her crew had been assigned, teasing another Gunner about the job. Quickly though, the audio shifts, growing tense as the crew seem to spot something. The woman screams about her friend, Connor. "Where's the rest of him-?!" She cries, sending shivers down both of the ghouls' spines. Something roars in the background, sounding similar to that of a lion. The crew rush inside the museum, but the audio cuts off before they can find out what was chasing them. Shane and Ryan stare at each other. "Well, at least it's not a ghost."

They gave themselves a few minutes to clear their heads and look around a bit more in case there was something they missed. Shane had tried the front door but it had been locked and chained up, so they made their way into the basement from an entrance at the side of the museum instead which, thankfully, hadn't been locked.

They slowly stalk down the steps into the building as quietly as they can. The floorboards above them creak, making them freeze as small bits of debris crumple and fall from the ceiling. "Hey there, demons," Shane says quietly, trying to lighten the mood. "It's your favourite ghoul boys," He pauses to shine his light around the room. "Well I'm glad I don't have a nose because this place looks like it stinks." Ryan smacks his arm, shushing him. His heart pounds in his ears, Shane seems to get the message and shuts up a little.

They make their way through the first room reluctantly, looting whatever they need along the way. The building seems to shake every few minutes, like whatever is upstairs is large enough to make the earth shudder every time it moves.

The two men enter a small use-to-be-closet, and Ryan almost screams as a body that was poking through the boards of the ceiling gets dragged away by something. Shane's hand is over Ryan's mouth, the only reason he hadn't managed to scream, making sure not to alert whatever it is of their presence. He could feel Shane shaking slightly behind him. The taller man pulls his hand away, carefully stepping over a pool of blood and through a hole in the wall, he holds his hand out for Ryan, who takes it, still shaking as he too crosses over the blood. "Holy shit," He whispers, hand clutching the fabric of his shirt over where his heart is. "I can't breathe."

"You're okay." Shane pats his back gently, one of the few times he's ever actually this comforting is when something genuinely terrifying is happening and when they're most likely in danger. "We should go." Ryan nods, but before they can step back towards the hole in the wall, the beast moves again, this time its weight makes the ground below it collapse, and a mountain of bricks, wood, and other debris piles into the room, separating them from the exit. They both look up, staring at the ceiling. A quiet, unsaid realisation dawns on the both of them that the only other exit is upstairs. "Fuck."

The reluctantly make their way through the maze of rooms left in the basement, before reaching the final one. A body falls through a hole in the ceiling and Ryan yelps, quickly cut off by Shane's hand covering his mouth yet again. He feels the other drag him backwards then pause, listening silently. Nothing but quiet fills the museum.

A chill runs up Ryan's spine as he spots some mannequins in the corner, their eyes black and cold, matching black smiles painted on their faces. It feels like they're watching him and he prays the conspiracies surrounding the figures are nothing more than ghost stories. Above them is an old, broken staircase made from rotting wood. Something in him hopes they stay intact, unlike the upper floor that caved in a few rooms ago. He pushes Shane gently off of him, moving towards the staircase. He sucks in a breath as he tests the first few then signals for the taller man to follow.

As they ascend the creaking steps, a growl cuts through the silence, low and soft; the murmur of a beast. Shane and Ryan stare at one another, Ryan's eyes wide in fear whilst Shane's remain unreadable. The older ghoul moves in front of Ryan and places his hand on a door at the top of the stairs. Another sound comes from whatever's out there, this time a whimper. Almost sad. Almost... Broken? They have no time to consider it as Shane carefully opens the wooden barrier, shotgun in hand. It's now or never.

They stalk through the opening, eyes darting around. The first thing their eyes land on are more mannequins, just as creepy and unsettling at the previous ones. This time, however, they're set up in a way that depicts on old witch hanging, making it even worse. They make their way reluctantly through the exhibits, stopping when they hear a soft panting. From the cracks of a few walls, Ryan sees it. He grabs Shane frantically and points in its direction. It is, indeed, a beast. A reptile with large horns and large teeth to match, its signature deadly claws on display, blood dripping from them as it tears apart the body of a gunner. A Deathclaw, the thing of nightmares itself. Standing there, ripping apart its prey. Then, it stops. It moves slightly, snout tilting towards the ceiling as it sniffs. Ryan feels every inch of his body grow tense as the monster slowly turns towards him and his partner, beady eyes settling on them. Time slows, it feels like the Deathclaw stares at Ryan for forever, looking directly into his soul. Finally, time moves again, but Ryan wishes it hadn't as the Deathclaw roars, charging towards him. He runs left as Shane goes right.

The Deathclaw follows Ryan through a series of holes and exhibits as Ryan helplessly shoots at it. His heart pounds in his ears, Shane is nowhere in sight. Half of him feels thankful, knowing his friend is safe, but the other half wants to scream to him for help. He stumbles through another broken wall, grabbing a nearby mannequin and pushing it in front of the entrance before he continues sprinting. Behind him, he hears as the beast trips up on the statue, mid way through a roar that ends up as a pained whimper. The ghoul almost feels bad, but considering the Deathclaw has probably already laid out 50 ways it wants to rip apart, cook, chew him, and spit him back out again, he realises he doesn't feel too bad about it. He turns around to shoot it during its moment of weakness. The bullet hits it right in the torso, but it isn't enough, even as he realises some of his earlier bullets had also hit it. The Deathclaw is littered with wounds, both from his and, what he assumes is, the gunners' attempts to kill the beast. Ryan regrets his decision as the it bellows angrily. It's too fast for him to outrun and it quickly grabs Ryan by the leg. He screams as he falls onto his back, shooting rapidly at its face. His life flashes before him and tears well in his eyes as he resorts to kicking the Deathclaw with his free foot. His gun's out of ammo and he can't reach into his backpack for a backup whilst in this position. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. This is the end. It can't be the end. Not like this. Not after everything- Everything he's survived, a whole ass nuclear war and a 200 year old apocalypse and he's gonna die at the hands of a Jurassic Park actor. At least it'll be a cool death, right? Oh, God, Shane better make it out. But what will he do without Ryan? They've been a team for so long, what now? Is Ryan even okay dying without his best friend by his side? Where is he? Where's-

Shane's voice rings out loudly as he hollers, climbing atop of the reptile and grabbing it by the horns. He pulls at them, making its head turn, dropping Ryan in its shock. Ryan scrambles away, watching in a mix of horror and awe as Shane practically plays mechanical bull with the monster. The taller male kicks the Deathclaw in its jaw a few times before it goes to bite him. His eyes widen and he quickly retrieves his foot but not before the Deathclaw can claim his boot, leaving it clenched between its yellow and crimson dyed teeth.

After nearly an astonishing 30 seconds of clinging on, Shane manages to press the barrel of his gun right against the demon's skull before pulling the trigger, immediately killing it.

As it falls, so does Shane. He comes topping forward, collapsing onto the ground next to Ryan with a loud thud, a groan falling from his lips soon after. Ryan stares at him momentarily but then pulls himself up, stumbling towards the Deathclaw's corpse. He pulls Shane's boot from its open jaws, tossing it to him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Get eatin'."

---

A little thing I’ve been working on! This is what the cryptic ‘Soon’ comment was about. I’ve had this idea for a while but just started writing it. Future fics in this series will include:

Investigation into the Institute, including an interviews with Piper Wright and Nick Valentine, and various theories about the crows and mannequins across the Commonwealth, as well as some political figures

Interview with the Man/Woman Out of Time

Investigation into Pickman Gallery

Investigating Alien Crash Landing

Haunted Insane Asylum Investigation and Rumours of a Mysterious Serum?

Investigation into the Railroad

Early days Appalachia Unsolved and The Hunt for The Infamous Mothman

Stories from DC Unsolved and New Vegas Unsolved

Investigation into the Strange Occurrences Surrounding Far Harbour

A discussion about meats in the Commonwealth that exist despite animals said meats are supposedly made from not doing.

An Interview with Mamma Murphy and Her Sight

Who Are the Children of Atom?

Investigating MedTek

A Discussion about Vault-Tec and Their Inhumane Experiments

And many more, if you have any ideas, leave a suggestion!

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starrose17 · 4 years

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Wincest fic idea, Battlestar Galactica!AU

Ah yes, my fall back fantasy no matter what fandom I’m in, the Battlestar Galactica 2004 AU, now for wincest! No matter what fandom I’m in I ALWAYS resort to a BSG!AU. Cos there is so much angsty love and darkness and hope potential, and in this one Sam is a sleeper Cylon agent (taking on mostly Boomers role in the series), and he’s gonna have to be an adopted brother for this to work as Dean is human.

So yeah, read below because I always LOVE the love and angst in this fantasy, its not exactly a fic...though it feels like i’ve written one already, this got quite long ^^;

Dean and Sam are both Viper pilots on the Galactica, but it was never Sam’s first choice. He was raised on the Galatica after he was adopted as a baby, along with his adoptive brother Dean and his father, Admiral John Winchester, who runs the ship. He was trained as a pilot next to Dean, but left after a huge argument to pursue his education on the ground. In fact two separate arguments, one very public one with his father on the bridge of the ship, the other privately with Dean, for they had been sleeping together for years and leaving Dad meant leaving Dean, but still Sam turned away, shouting at Dean for being Dad’s “perfect little solider”, and Dean was furious and hurt, but so was Sam.

Two years later the Galactica is due for retirement and for the ceremony Dean plucks up the courage to turn up at Sam’s place on Caprica asking for Sam to come back to fly in the ceremony flyby, for old times sake, that it wouldn't be the same to say goodbye to the ship that raised them both without him there. Neither of them mention they haven’t spoken to each other at all these two years. Neither of them mention their “relationship” before, especially as Sam’s girlfriend Jess was in the room.

Reluctantly, Sam agrees, but makes a point of telling Dean not to tell their dad he was coming.

So Sam heads up to the ship and gets geared up, the other pilots that he knows from before shocked he is there, some greeting him happily like an old friend, others hating him for turning “on the old man”, as the Admiral was often called.

Still Sam gets in a Viper with his brother flying formation beside him, and Dean cannot stop grinning, seeing his little brother back in uniform, back in a viper, because no matter how much he says he hates it Sammy was always the best pilot out of everyone. Except Dean, of course. So Sam does the flyby as he agreed, and sees their father through the large dome window on the ship giving his speech to the crew, memories and regrets and still anger running through him.

“You didn’t tell me you’d made CAG.” Sam says quietly when they’re alone in Dean’s room after the flyby, a cabin not shared with the other pilots as he was now in command of them.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”

An awkward small smile come on Sam’s lips, “I guess there’s alot we haven’t spoken about in quite a while.”

So they talk, and talk, and get closer and closer as the barriers come down and the forgiveness starts to set in, and when Dean quietly whispers that he’s missed Sam so much, so much, Sam finds himself kissing his brother for the first time in two years, and Dean is pushing him down onto his bunk and getting his hands up underneath that uniform and suddenly everything is as it should be as though nothing had ever changed.

Until the cylons suddenly attack.

So picture the series going on, and Sam finds himself blacking out and waking up in strange places, though he never tells Dean. He also doesn’t exactly reconcile with his Dad, but when he finally finds out Sam is stuck aboard with them all as they FLT their way through space trying to avoid the cylons, the Admiral does give his son the biggest hug, simply relieved to know he is here on board and alive, unlike all the millions of people dead.

Including Jess.

Dean and Sam get closer and basically live together in Dean’s cabin, and despite the strange blackouts, which he doesn't want to worry his brother about, Sam is beginning to find himself happy. He plays cards with his brother and the other pilots, just like they did once before, gets drunk with them, gets in the vipers to battle against the cylons when they make their moves, with Dean constantly at his side, protecting him, protecting each other. He mourns those they loose, getting tired and upset and angry with the universe for what it was doing to their slowly diminishing race, but at least he had Dean. The blackouts get worse, and the latest one he found himself sitting alone in the locker room, dripping head to toe in water, and doesn’t know why.

But then the opportunity to blow up a base ships emerges, using a stolen reader from a captured cyclon raider, enabling one ship to fly into the baseship thinking it’s one of their own and then plant a nuclear warhead there, and Dean and Sam volunteer.

Once on the hanger deck of the baseship they rock, paper, scissor who gets to go outside to plant the bomb, and Sam goes, with Dean staying on the shuttle ready to escape at a moments notice. Sam places the bomb, all set and ready to detonate on a countdown, when he turns around and sees down the large passageway what looks like a small army of cylons walking towards him, but....but this can’t be...he shakes his head, he’s dreaming, a nightmare like those that have always plagued him, and he blinks and blinks again because no, no, and he backs away as dozens of identical cyclons looking just like himself walk towards him, telling him not to be scared, that’s it’s alright, come with them.

In terror and utter denial confusion Sam races back onto the shuttle, they fly off, the bomb explodes and the baseship is destroyed, and back on Galactica everyone is greeting them as heroes, clapping and cheering. Their father walks towards them, shaking Dean’s hand and pulling him into a hug, he goes to offer his hand to Sam, another hopeful brief moment of bonding between them, when with a genuine sweet smile Sam offers his hand back and two loud bangs echo around the room, for Sam’s holding a gun, and has just shot his own father twice in the chest, and suddenly everything is chaos. Dean is on the floor with his dad, hands over the blood pouring from the two holes in his chest, alternating between staring in horror at his dad and horror at his brother, who suddenly seems to snap out of a trance as others are piling on him, grabbing him and holding him, and as he sees what he’s done and the look on Deans face, he screams, and screams, and at the same time a massive explosion rips through one side of the ship, where the bombs that Sam had planted inside the water tanks explode, which explains why he was dripping wet.

So now Sam is in handcuffs and in an interrogation room being tortured, being told he is a sleeper cylon agent and to tell them everything he knows, and where the other bomb is that has been counted as missing but wasn’t one of the ones that blew up the water tanks. Sam’s mental state is a mess, he doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t know what happened, he’s a cylon? Flashes of his identical twins marching towards him flash across his mind, No, NO!! No he can’t... Dean....and they’re punching him cutting him and drowning him in buckets of water as they hold his head underneath as he squirms and flails against the lack of oxygen.

“Why don’t you just turn off your pain? You’re a robot, why suffer like this?” one his torturers asks, and Sam just lowers his head, tired of answering he doesn’t know to every question, and terrified for the state of his father because no one will tell him, and Dean...oh god Dean what must he be thinking....so he asks for Dean, over and over again no matter how much they hurt him, no matter how many tears of agony runs down his face, and eventually one of them tells him that Dean doesn’t want to see him, Dean is having his own crisis.

Dean has stayed in his cabin, pacing up and down, cursing, being told to get out of the medical bay as his father went in for surgery. How could Sam have been a cylon all this time and Dean not have realised?! How could Sam, his baby brother, and who he loved more than anyone could possible love another person, be a cylon? The destroyer of their race? How could he have...touched him, loved him, fucked him, it was making him feel sick and furious and a fool for being led on. Their father was alive if in a critical condition, and now they had a water shortage issue and now his brother was a fucking cylon wtf!!! At this stage he’s too blinded by anger and humiliation and shock to realise of course he still loves him completely, but he’s gonna realise that too late.

Eventually, they have to get Dean in to talk to Sam, because as far as they’re concerned Sam is refusing to cooperate and maybe seeing his “brother”, for they all knew Sam had been adopted and now certainly knew they weren't related with Sam being a cylon, would perhaps spark of bit of so called “human” compassion. And Dean doesn't want to, god he doesn't want to go in there, but he does for the sake of the lives the last bomb may take, so he enters the room. Sam’s face lights up like fireworks in the sky at the sight of him, Dean sitting down at the table between them, refusing to look at Sam

“Where’s the other bomb Sam?” he asks quietly to the table, and Sam just looks at him, just looks, and despite the blood on his face and torn clothing and hair still dripping from being half drowned, he smiles, smiles because he hasn’t seen his brother in he didn’t know how long.

“How’s dad? Is he okay they won’t tell m-”

“He’s not your dad.” Dean will reply, just as quietly, “Where’s the bomb?”

And Sam’s heart is breaking, and he tries to reach for his brother but the chain cuffing him to the edge of the table prevents him.

“I don’t know Dean.”

Dean bits his lip in a held back anger, taking a shaking breath to calm his frayed and betrayed nerves, “If you have any shred of love left for me in that...whatever it is that makes up your brain, then don’t make me sit here any longer than I have to and tell me where the last bomb is. Tell me everything you know about the cylons so I can get out of here.”

Sam is silent for a moment, so sad and terrified for his own life and seeing Dean treat him this way, not even looking at him...

“If you were told, right now,” Sam began, so softly, “that you were really a cylon, Dean. Would you suddenly know all their secrets? Would you know everything about them? I don’t know anything. Please.......tell them to stop hurting me.”

It’s then Dean finally looks up at him, and for a split moment a look of utter shock and terrible caring pain crosses his face at the image before him, cos there’s blood everywhere, even on the walls, and Sam is shaking, his face and body is cut and bruised, his hair lanky and his breathing is laboured. Dean opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what, and suddenly he shaking his head and standing up, turning to the door.

“I can’t do this.” he mutters, ignoring Sam’s cry of his name behind him as the doors slams closed.

Getting nothing out of him it’s decided to throw him out the airlock, he has no rights he’s the fucking enemy, not even alive, and now Sam is genuinely terrified and still shaking, still handcuffed, barely able to stand from his injuries as he stands there all alone as the others watch the through the glass window in the control room.

“Any last words?” It’s was Bobby, the XO, the man he’s grown up with alongside his father and brother on this very ship. This place was his home, these people were his family, he didn’t know anything about cylons he still couldn’t wrap his head around that he was one he just wanted to...to...go home! To go...to Dean.

Dean was his home.

So with a voice that barely sounded like his own he asks for Dean, to speak to him one last time, to see him, and the reply from Bobby is that he’s not here, and doesn’t want to be. So Sam stands there, looking up at the green light above the airlock, his heart beat thumping as it starts to flash amber, a warning, and the sirens start to sound.

Bobby can barely do this himself, John was still unconscious, it was his job he ran the ship now, but this was one of his boys...how could he be a cylon?

But he was, and the risk of keeping one on board, no matter who they’ve been pretending to be its entire life,....it shot John, it killed countless people with those bombs....it had to go.

Sam’s last thought is of Dean, his name on his lips in a final terrifying whisper as the light goes red and the doors open, and Sam is sucked out into space.

The fleet jumps away, and it’s just Sam’s frozen body alone in space, until a cylon baseship FTL’s in, and suddenly a new Sam in a new body is gulping lungful's of new air as he fights his way out of that goopy liquid bolting upright, downloaded memories flooding in of Dean, dad, bombs and water and Dean and torture and Dean and fear and Dean and god he’s surrounded by others cylons, some he knows the faces of ones he’d fought and killed before, but it’s the ones that look like him, the ones with his face and his hair and his calming smiles that make him lose his mind, his terrified scream echoing down the empty baseship corridors.

He truly is a cylon.

Back in the fleet time has passed, the last bomb was discovered on a transport and deactivated, and the Pegasus has arrived, boasting of capturing their own cylon agent and keeping him prisoner on board. They’ve got a lot out of him but still need more, and they specially request Dean. Dean wonders why on earth they want him, he has been depressed and angry and moping ever since Sam, and no one really trusts him because of who Sam was, so he supposed this was a chance to prove himself if he could help in any way.

As they take him on board the officers are joking on how much they’ve tortured this one, making into a game, starving it, forcing themselves on it, after all its just a ‘toaster’ you can’t rape metal, laughing at how real and good it feels though. Dean is turning his nose up and telling to shut up, feeling rather bad for this cylon already, they’d all seen how human these models are, perhaps they did feel pain.

They take him into the same cell as in the show, the empty white room with the large glass wall, and in the middle of the floor lays another Sam model, wearing nothing but a white bedshirt that barely covers his backside, and Dean stares.

There are bruises everywhere, arms, neck…thighs…his wrists and ankles are red raw from constant restraints, he’s thin and broken and already shaking in absolute terror at the sight of the officers. His hair reaches half way down his back and its matted with blood and sweat and...something else that’s making it stick together. His once beautiful hazel eyes are wide and red and filled with agony and a wish for death.

Dean is so shocked he can’t even move, he can’t think of anything but his own Sam, he can’t see anyone but his own Sam, and he’s suddenly filled with rage. But, he goes in with a tray of food that they give him, and promises Sam softly that he wont hurt him, hating how this Sam tries to curl in on himself as though waiting for a beating immediately. Dean put the tray near him on the floor, and then backs away, sitting against the glass wall as the officers leave them alone.

“It’s not a trick,” Dean said quietly, hot tears threatening in his own eyes, “I’m not gonna take it away at the last second. It’s yours. I’m just gonna sit here. You don’t have to say anything. I’m just gonna be here with you.”

And slowly, very very slowly, a thin hand and a thin wrist edges its way cautiously forward, crawling its fingertips across the floor, taking a single slice of apple and quickly bringing it back to his mouth, taking small, tiny bites, as though wanting to savour it not knowing if he’d be allowed to take another. He won’t say a word. They beat him if he speaks without them telling him to.

Everything the officers had been laughing at that they’d done to this Sam, it was all flying through Dean’s mind, picturing his own Sam, being raped, beaten, far worse than what had been done to him on the Galatica. This Sam was broken, in every possible way, and he finds himself pouring his heart out to it. At what had happened with his Sam, what that Sam meant to him, how this feeling of anger that had been consuming him he knew now was directed at himself, for not being there for Sam, for condoning him to death when his brother had been confused and desperate for help. He was cylon, Dean accepted that now, and now understood that that fact hadn’t changed a single thing about how he felt about him. It was Sam, his brother the love of his life, and he’d abandoned him, let him be tortured and die, and Dean now sits there in floods of tears, his hands over his face, praying to all the Gods to forgive him for what he’d done.

As he sits there, he suddenly feels the weak grip of the broken Sam on his wrist, and he looks up. This Sam was suddenly kneeling in front of him, his collarbones so pronounced through starvation, his face gaunt and hollow, and so beaten, but he was smiling, and suddenly he was shakily leaning over him, letting his weight cover Dean, hugging him, holding him, and Dean trembles and holds onto him, burying his head at his shoulder.

Even after everything this Sam had been through, he was still kind, still cared, and that is exactly what his Sam had always been.

God he loved him so much, and now he was gone.

The plot follows the series, so the broken Sam, with Dean’s help, eventually blows up the Pegasus killing himself as well, because no matter how much Dean helped him, telling him of what he could be of the good he could do, he couldn’t live with what they’d done to him and wouldn’t let them live to do the same to others. It’s never traced back to Dean for helping, and life goes on, except Dean has a new sympathy. He’s not on the cylons side don’t get him wrong, he never would be, but perhaps there was a way of working together, to stop all this killing. He questioned himself at the time, about letting all those people, all those humans die, but the empty look in his broken brothers eyes, no....no one would hurt any Sam ever again.

HIS Sam, the one in the the new body, is still refusing to act the cylon. There’s no need to tell any of them any information as they got it all when he was downloaded, but that also meant they all knew about him and Dean. But to Sam, he was human, not a cylon, no matter how many of his own face tried to talk to him, he would never be on the side of the cylons, NEVER, and he kept himself locked away in lonely corners of the ship, perhaps having no choice to accept what he was but not meaning he was going to betray everyone he loved, even if....even if they hated him...even if...if Dean...despised him...and that thought hurt more than anything else.

Eventually, a party of various cylons models comes aboard Galactica with the intention of a truce after battles that have exhausted both sides, and the last one to get off the raptor, was Sam. Dean’s Sam. He’d managed to convince his fellow cylons that any truce would be done better with him there, he knew them, not just from a memory but knew them, and they knew him, they had to see not all cylons were going to kill them.

He had to get back on that ship.

Of course no one was expecting a Sam model to step off the ship, and as Sam cautiously gets off the raptor looking around at all these people he knew, he locks eyes with Dean, and Dean can’t breath, because he sees the recognition in Sam eyes. It was his Sam, and suddenly his heart is trying to beat out his chest and the world around them has stopped as it’s just the two of them in an empty hanger, and Sam smiles that gorgeous, sweet smile, and Dean feels whole again.

John Winchester, alive and recovered, looks at his “son” with very, very mixed feelings, and Sam doesn’t fight back when officers put him in handcuffs, although cannot help but feel a pang of pain when his dad says “Put that thing in the brig.” He had shot him after all, this was going to be a long recovery.

Dean visits Sam and apologises so much for not being there for him, and Sam is understanding, he was revealed to be a cylon after all, oh he’s still hurt, terribly hurt, and Dean just wants to hold him, and tells him all this time without him has been hell the things he’s seen he just wants this all to stop and he loves him he loves him so much and will he please, please stay, stay with me, please, when this is all over, and it will be....stay with me, and Sam smiles that damned beautiful smile again and Dean is kissing him through the bars, holding his hands against the bars, and knowing nothing ever again was going to separate them, nothing.

Except it’s soon discovered the “truce” is a lie, unknown to Sam, and there’s a battle on board and all the cylons get killed, expect of course for Sam safe in the brig. But alone in his cell some of the guards decide to take a leaf out of the Pegasus book for revenge on those that were killed and go in with their hands down their trousers and have the terrified Sam held down and bent over the desk before Dean suddenly walks in and fuck everyone is dead in seconds as he bashes their brains in against the walls. He takes Sam’s hand and they run, planning to go into hiding together until a cylon jumps out of nowhere, one that had escaped the main battle, and it’s just at the same time Sam and Dean see their dad coming towards them down the corridor. The cylon goes to fire at him, but Sam jumps on him, wrestling the gun from it’s hand and shooting it through the head.

Having now saved his fathers life, he’s sort of welcomed back, but people still find it hard to trust him, and he has to do everything he can to prove he is on the human side.

When the cylon virus attacks the firewall system he tells his Dad and Dean and everyone on the bridge that he can help, that he can stop the virus, but they have to trust him. Dean looks to his dad, yes, yes trust him, and John nods, and Sam immediately attaches a lead from a console by pushing it into his forearm, and Dean STARES at him asking how he knows to do that, Sam just looks at him, slightly out of breath with adrenaline, “I don’t know.” But it works, he fights back the virus and it goes, and he saves the entire fleet.

From then on, it’s continuing the search for a new home, continuing the battles and attempts at peace with the cylons, and Dean never letting Sam out of his sight again. The first time they make love again for so long, the first time knowing Sam is cylon, Dean just clings to him, whispering that he doesn't care what Sam is, because whatever he is, he is Dean’s, and Dean belongs to him, and they will be together despite any protests, any upturned faces, they will fight them all to be together.

And Sam smiles once more, only ever smiling around Dean. They were together at last.

#wincest #wincestfic #wincestfanfic

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bearpillowmonster · 3 years

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Horizon Zero Dawn Review

The game that critics have been raving about for years and I just haven't played. I heard a lot of people say "this needs a movie" but they say that about any game that dares to be a little bit cinematic because I personally disagree.

That first part is rough, the story seems so in your face, predictable and bland but I think the problem is that it didn't know how to put in its exposition. I think it naturally builds up as it goes on, getting bigger and broader, it's just those first experiences that can be a slog because you're pretty much learning what style you're going to play in.

I got more or less everything I expected, crafting, a skill tree, various weapons. What I didn't expect though are dialogue options. You can choose normally up to four paths, an intelligent one, a compassionate one, and a straightforward one. You don't have to worry about the stress of trying to reach a specific ending because there's really only one, the only thing that affects it is the amount of people that are in it. So does that make the choices irrelevant? Yes and no because there are different dialogue options and like I said, which means that you can get certain characters to like you more given the option you choose but not in the same way that relationship points work and I definitely felt the draw to do that whenever I came across my first side-quest.

Side-quests are interesting, I love tracking things in games, though it's rare that you actually get the chance to do it and here you have a good amount of opportunities. Is that all though? Far from it. I actually found myself searching for side-quests because the first two were so satisfying. It really only began to show its hand a bit more after those quests. As I mentioned, there are a lot more RPG elements than I first imagined but it starts to send you on scavenger hunts, especially that Dreamwillow one, that one I actually laughed out loud at every time I was turned away. It also starts to gatekeep to where it recommends that you be a certain level which is...odd? I mean at face value it looks like you could rock basically any combat situation that isn't context sensitive. Leveling up gives you abilities but they're more like Deus Ex on that front, where it's just for preference and upgrading, not necessarily strength. The only thing you improve on offense wise basically boils down to having the right materials or units to buy weapons then a matter of finding modifications. Other than that, leveling up seems to just increase your health. It really just depends on the quest too because I'll play one above my level and be fine then play another that's actually under my level and feel stuck.

Now I only played it on normal mode so something like "Ultra Hard" is bound to be more demanding but as far as actual side quest content, I feel like they have potential but just need tweaked, give me more stuff for major characters that affects their standing with me. Rather than having each quest be contained in its own story, have it affect you later in the game, let your actions be shown, give it rewards and consequences. There are some really great side-quests but there are also some crappy ones, it doesn't pass that threshold that most RPGs fall under or anything. However, I did find myself doing side-quests at my own free will and the ones that I didn't like or couldn't do at the time, I just skipped and focused on something else, I felt a lot more freedom with this game, like I didn't feel forced to grind or do a certain number of side-quests or really do anything. It encourages you to explore and play the way you want to play and I respect the heck out of that. Maybe it's different for other players though.

Perhaps my favorite actual side thing was the Cauldrons for those who actually played this, you'll know why. For those who didn't, just know that it's cool and let it be a surprise for when you go to one. You might expect these big set-pieces and bosses like Uncharted or GoW, but it's not really like that. I genuinely think that this is more video-gamey than it lets on which certainly takes up its runtime. One addition to side-quests that I would like to see is one where you don't know it's happening. For example, in this game, you'll come across random hunters who are attacking or being attacked by machines but rather than just going on about your day and them going on about their's, I want to fight off the machine and the person say "You saved my life, my name's Jara, I live in the town nearby and want to repay you." so you go there and there's trouble so it starts up a side-quest. Now don't get me wrong, there are PLENTY of instances of people getting attacked actually being a mission but most of the time someone in town will just tell you "I haven't seen this person in a while, can you go check on them for me?" It's the art of subtlety and also just doing a good deed and getting rewarded for it. It's a conscious choice and split decision rather than just another checkmark on your list to complete.

Now I won't bother listing the characters and rating them but there's a certain aspect that has me really enthused So, Aloy is an outcast and a lot of these side missions and scenarios reflect her, you'll see the way she can relate with other characters, making it almost poetic in a subliminal kind of way. Then they add this tribal and futuristic setting to it where Aloy acts as the medium, there are parts of the game where she questions the tribe because they cut themselves off from technology and just don't know any better and we as a viewer know that but having the main character view things in 'our' lens is pretty genius. To top that off, they give her enough personality to be her own character while giving us enough power to influence her so that we ourselves can REFLECT WITH HER. It's not her character that I'm impressed with, it's the layout of the story.

So, how is the main story? It's kind of like the Flood scenario in Halo if I'm being honest. I'm not going to spoil anything but it's passable, like I said, it's not like an Uncharted and it's not like a movie. The visuals just look good at times (I took all the pictures in this review myself and so much more!). I'd call it a futuristic/tribal mix between Shadow of the Tomb Raider and Skyrim but I see elements of a lot of things. (Also since it's post apoctalypic, you find items that we see in modern day, like how they call keys, "chimes"! They think they're windchimes because there are no more cars! I love that!)

It actually does a pretty good job at being an open world considering that there are tons of things to do on your routes as well as collect but it's not so much so that it seems unfeasible, as I said, I found myself doing a good chunk of the side stuff just because it was fun to do and I'm not even close to a completionist for any game. If you mess up, healing plants will still be there. As long as you save, enemy parts will still be there. A place can be cleared out and conquered so that enemies don't come back. The actual towns are peaceful so you can't get mangled by any bots outside of scripted instances.

The graphics are pretty good but I can see some error here and there, nothing necessarily game breaking but the animations and AI are definitely janky at times. It's pretty obvious from the get-go but I'll do my best to specify and give constructive criticism on what I found wrong with certain aspects of the game. Rost is slow, like slower than walking speed but that's not to speak for all NPCs, some run, some you don't need to follow, it was really just him. I've had NPCs who fight but miss every single time on simple enemies (that might not be a bug, that might just be a funny bit that someone decided to add in). Sabretooths have jumped through walls (granted the walls were kinda broken but I'm not sure if those big boys can fit when they can barely find the entrance) I found myself jumping to a ledge or on a rope but not land it and just drop (it really boils down to loosening the hit box for that). Which to add on to that, I would like more places to climb and jump to in general (other than stupid mountains). I felt like there wasn't really enough that I could climb and the places that I could, could've been a bit more obvious that I could, maybe even make it viewable with your focus if you don't want it to be visually outstanding. There's a day and night cycle and while I like that, I found some of the contrast to be annoying because I could be staring a ladder right in the face and not even know it sometimes because it would be so dark. I'm not going to complain too much about it because I didn't turn my brightness up, I just left it at default and I would assume the PS5 version fixes some of those little things.

Now, this one is kind of a gray area: Hiking up mountains. Skyrim, Fallout, and Death Stranding went too far and gave little to no barriers. They had you looking for sweet spots that weren't there in order to cheese your way through an area either on or off a beaten path. But I would compare this to something like GTA where it's not as bad and does have its limits but might need tightened up some more because I can certainly get to places that lead to nowhere.

I've made headshots that don't make contact or damage while using precision. Part of that problem was that they could be high up in a tower (which have spikes sticking out) and I would hit ABOVE the logs, to make a headshot but since it was in that vicinity, it registered that as the spikes' hitbox so it wouldn't cause any damage and just alert the enemy (same if I was in the tower, looking down). Input lag where I hit up button on the D-Pad to regain health and I have to keep pressing it. If I had to guess, you have to meet the requirements of not taking damage, staying still, etc in order for it to actually work but it doesn't really have a reason to do that and it doesn't "tell" you that those are the requirements (as far as I know).

During the final boss, one of the enemies hit me into a rock wall, trapping me inside of it and the boss was already half health so I really didn't want to have to restart (I also didn't know how far back the checkpoint was) so I kept shooting stuff and eventually the boss destroyed the wall, allowing me to get out (timed section, by the way). There have been a few times where a tree or leaf or something is obstructing a cutscene and sometimes there will be a mech in the background screaming over the NPC talking, which I'm sure is due to the cutscenes being real-time which is still pretty impressive. Now are these errors all the time? No, not at all, I'm just pointing out that some times these things happened and that I felt it needed ironed out but I wouldn't call this half baked or an unfinished product or anything, it's nowhere near that level. I get that there are so many NPCs that it's hard to account for them all with facial animations but whenever they're talking, it seems pretty static and sometimes the lips don't line up. There's this one guy who says that he got lost in a sandstorm but he's standing in snow. Again, little nitpicks in an otherwise great game.

Now, I got this game for free as a Playstation promotion but that doesn't necessarily mean it'll be great, I played a little bit of that Ratchet & Clank reboot that was offered and I wasn't impressed, I quit after the first few worlds and was glad I didn't buy it at launch, (despite being a classic PS2 R&C fan) but we're not here to review that. I also played Abzu and loved it but it was short so it was definitely worth a play but maybe not 60$ (I actually think it's 20$ at this point though). With this game, it's the whole complete edition with DLC and everything, it has the length, so it really just boils down to "Would I have spent money on it otherwise?"

I think I would've if I knew more about it because I think it just got better and better after that first part of the game. It's marketed a bit differently than what I ended up getting but I found myself pouring hours into this game and loving it for one reason or another. I actually bought Shadow of the Colossus along with it (which is considered a cult classic) but I liked Horizon so much better, definitely worth its full price in my opinion. (So your promotion worked on me Sony, congrats) It has its problems but the potential is there and I feel like a sequel would probably iron out a lot of my troubles with it, so it's definitely a franchise worth investing into.

If you're interested in what I thought of the DLC alone (if you didn't get the Ultimate edition and are wondering if the extra content is worth it) I have a separate post that goes into that here.

#hzd #horizon zero dawn #review #game #4/5

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siribear · 4 years

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a high pitched whistle precedes the explosion. it rocks the ground underfoot, rubble bursting from the ground, crashing into the lake nearby and raining along the pavement. their own isolated storm, booming thunder and all.

the general of the minutemen watches the proceedings idly, face impassive while the others cheer around her. she smiles appropriately when preston looks to her, nods when penny does the same. but inside, she’s railing. something about it rankles, the explosions, the weapons. artillery. her, being at the head of it.

the explosion on the horizon, the shockwave rushing up to meet them at the top of that elevator.

whisper, on the other hand, sees that giant blimp floating across the river and figures a hand she can play. she allows herself one clap on sturges’s shoulder as congratulations. who does it, she isn’t sure. all she knows is she’s got somewhere else to be: the prydwen.

preston isn’t happy about it, with her working with the brotherhood, but aside from the one broken power armor she liberated from the museum of freedom, they have no way of crossing the sea as it is. he relents, though it takes some convincing for him to stay and let her go by herself. deacon was right; he can’t be seen on the prydwen again. and neither can both heads of the minutemen be up there - just in case.

he balks at that, but can’t argue her logic, as much as he wants to.

‘i don’t like you being up there by yourself, general. it isn’t safe.’

‘we have the goodwill of the majority of the commonwealth. they won’t do anything to me unless they want to piss everyone off,’ she reasons. ‘or they capture me anyway.’ she shrugs.

preston sighs and hands over her new hat, scrubbed clean and smelling of abraxo. ‘if we don’t hear from you, we’re going out there.’

she smiles at him, adjusts her ponytail and places the hat on her head. ‘i’ll send word. the artillery is still too new, and we need to keep it a secret.’ she thinks back to the explosion and the new craters along the road. ‘as much as possible.’

preston squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath. ‘be safe, general.’

he tenses, even now, when she lightly places her hand on his arm. ‘i’ll be fine. don’t let them blow up our neighborhood before we even have a chance to settle it, okay?’ the buildings are falling apart as it is. if they test any more artillery they may as well raze the buildings themselves and start from scratch.

‘i’ll keep them in line, ma’am.’

‘then i’ll be back, soon. oh, and see if you can find some paint. i have a feeling my new power armor is going to need a few touch ups.’

it takes days for her to travel east alone. with the growing minuteman presence deeper in the city, raider groups have moved out to the bay. whisper nearly walks in dead view of one, barely avoiding detection by ducking behind a building. that interruption alone takes her hours to move beyond, and she doesn’t sleep that night, moving instead under cover of darkness. a blown out diner becomes her shelter for a few hours of restless sleep come morning.

she misses deacon. not just so she has someone to watch her back as she sleeps or the safety they have in numbers, but because she-she just misses him. him and the comfort of having someone she trusts at her back. and in resting she remembers this, too: deacon kissed her back. enthusiastically. before he knew she knew about the institute spy.

her heart races, and whether it’s from the memory resurfacing or the prydwen looming overhead, she doesn’t give herself time to dwell. a knight spots her and calls down a vertibird after confirming her identity. more than once, wandering brotherhood soldiers eye her hat with not-so-subtle shakes of their heads. of course, danse is the only one that looks her in the eye and gives her a respectful nod, offering to lead her the rest of the way to meet elder maxson.

he pulls her aside, into an empty examination room. ‘why do you need to see the elder?’

‘don’t trust me?’

he closes his eyes, sighs. ‘i want to. but there were reports of explosions near the castle, and now you’re here.’

it’s her turn to sigh. she adjusts her hat, pulling the brim away from her eyes. she can almost hear deacon in her head, calling out howdy, partner. ‘my being here has nothing to do with the explosions. seriously. we found a sentry bot in the armory.’

he’s silent as he stares at her, then, ‘okay.’

‘okay?’

‘i’m trusting you. elder maxson is in the mess hall.’

she’s touched. danse leads her further down the hall, to a larger room with a short bar separating a small kitchen from rows of cafeteria tables. at the bar sits elder maxson, alone despite the other brotherhood members in the room, nursing a drink between his hands. he greets danse curtly when they approach, and gives her an equally quick nod.

‘general.’

whisper slides onto the stool next to him, legs crossed, one arm hanging off the bar. ‘elder,’ she says sweetly. ‘how are you?’

‘this isn’t a social call, general. what is it?’

she huffs. fine. ‘i want a suit of power armor.’

out of the corner of her eye, she sees danse, somehow, stand up straighter, eyes widening as he looks to elder maxson. the mess hall quiets, the others not even pretending they aren’t eavesdropping. maxson grunts heavily and stands.

‘follow me,’ he commands gruffly. whisper looks to danse and shrugs with a grin.

‘you didn’t tell me that’s why you were here,’ he near-hisses in her ear.

she shoves her hands in her pockets and moves to go after maxson. ‘you didn’t ask.’

behind her, he sighs again before falling into step with her. ‘you can’t be serious.’

maxson leads them to the front of the prydwen’s second level, unlocks a door, and waits for them to approach. ‘i can be,’ she whispers over her shoulder, and steps through.

what looks to be maxson’s quarters is barely decorated. no sense of personal touch in the room aside from the brotherhood flag hanging over his bed and a personal desk and terminal. there’s a side door that leads to a personal bathroom, but otherwise she wouldn’t be able to tell his room from, say, danse’s quarters. the latter who trudges in, ducking through the door and takes up residence in the corner of the room before maxson shuts the door behind them. unlocked - at least that’s unthreatening.

whisper stands with her thumbs hooked in her pockets and watches maxson settle in front of her, standing as tall as he can, hands laced behind his back. ‘if you think you can just come aboard this ship and demand a suit of power armor,’ he starts, ‘you’re sorely mistaken.’

she barely stops herself from rolling her eyes, looking instead to danse who looks like he has regrets bringing her here. ‘it wasn’t a demand. you asked me why i came here, i told you.’

now, maxson looks back to his paladin, who bows his head. ‘i’m sorry, sir. i didn’t know - ‘

‘can i finish?’ she interrupts, earning herself a pair of glares in her direction. ‘if you’re going to shoot me, just know that plenty of people know i came here. if i don’t report in soon, they’re going to figure out something happened.’ she raises a hand to stifle further comments, and, surprisingly, they stay silent. ‘i have my own suit i could probably repair in a few months, but i simply don’t have the time. i have information i simply need to act on, and i’m willing to trade for it.’

‘what could you possibly have for us that’s worth losing a suit?’ maxson asks, voice tight, admirably restrained. she pulls a pair of dog tags from her pocket and holds it out to him. after he scans the name on the tag, ‘is this a threat?’

‘i don’t murder people for the fun of it. i found these.’

‘where?’

‘that’s what i’m willing to trade.’

the elder grips the tags in his fist and walks over to the door, jerks it open. ‘we’ll find out ourselves. go.’

this time, she does roll her eyes, but only danse can see. ‘i took the distress pulser. the dog tags aren’t the only thing i found,’ she says, looking directly at danse, imploring. months, if she loses this. and out in the glowing sea? who’s to say their renegade institute scientist isn’t dead already. she can’t waste any more time than necessary. she turns to maxson, her voice softer. lays out her case in this courtroom. ‘there was another squad here before danse’s, wasn’t there? i can find them. whoever’s left. we’re both on borrowed time here.’

‘elder,’ danse starts and fails.

maxson shuts the door. ‘what do you need the power armor for, exactly?’

she grimaces. no telling what the brotherhood would do if they found the scientist first, either. ‘it’ll bring me closer to my son.’ he doesn’t look convinced. ‘whatever i learn, you learn, but i honestly can’t risk losing this information for anything.’

his head jerks to danse. ‘you brought her up here. i’m making her your problem.’ whisper startles. ‘paladin danse will go with you. bring back what you can, and i’ll determine if you’ve earned the power armor.’

she lets out a breath, genuinely smiling. ‘thank you, elder maxson.’

‘you have access to our armory for any supplies you may need. bear in mind, you will pay for them. if you have to rest before you leave, i can radio down and have a bed set up for you.’

‘i’m ready if you’re ready,’ she says to danse.

‘i can be in ten minutes,’ he informs her.

perhaps it should be insulting how reluctant he seems to go with her, but it doesn’t matter. what matters is, she’s one step closer to the glowing sea than she was before.

maxson escorts them back down the hall, and the three split off. danse to his quarters; maxson to the control center; and she to the quartermaster. proctor teagan has little to say to her as she rattles off a list of supplies. the caps aren’t a problem, neither is the space, and she meets danse on the flight deck in exactly ten minutes. he boards the vertibird first, the machine swaying slightly under the power armor’s weight. she hops on next, buckling into the bench next to danse.

‘do you still trust me?’ she asks over the headset, voice tinny in her ears over the roaring of vertibird blades. vertigo kicks in when the mechanical arm drops the vertibird and as it stabilizes in the air. they’re to be dropped off near med-tek research near where she found the first bodies. if the patrol fell back, they’d go somewhere close, so it seems a good place to start.

‘i don’t know if i agree with how you approach things,’ danse says, eventually. she can’t fault him that, either. ‘but i'm trusting you. for now. don’t make me regret it.’ she wonders just how much trouble he gets into for being associated with her, even vaguely.

he doesn’t ask if she trusts him, and she doesn’t offer. she doesn’t know if she believes him entirely, or if he believes himself. maybe he’s just saying it to appease her, and it works just fine. as long as he doesn’t kill her in her sleep, but that doesn’t seem his style. unless -

‘you don’t sleep in your power armor, do you? i’d hate for you to roll over and squish me in the middle of the night.’

he closes his eyes, and she imagines him counting to ten. ‘no, i don’t.’

‘okay,’ she says, and swears she hears the pilot trying to hold back laughter. ‘just checking.’

#siri drabbles #oc: alice ward #series: we will all go together when we go #can you tell i was watching dollhouse at the beginning of this #at this point every update we just take baby steps #and now whisper just flirts with danse because why not #anyway goodbye again for a month lmao

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skylanders-after-the-end · 5 years

Text

Jailbirds

Snap Shot opened his eyes. Grey. That was the first color he saw after waking up every morning. The cold grey ceilings of Cloudcracker Prison. The reptile lifted himself off the uncomfortable bed inside of his cell. The former Skylander has spent months behind bars and got used to the daily back pains caused by the mattress. Some of his former Trap Master allies were on their morning duty to check on the prisoners. He saw Tuff Luck slowly walking down the long hall surrounded by villains. She soon walked past Snap Shot. The blue crocodile looked at her and was hoping for some kind of greeting. All the feline gave him was a cold, emotionless stare, just as she did with every other villain. Snap Shot sighed and got out of bed. The doors of the cell were open, and the villains could go to the cafeteria to eat breakfast. As Snap Shot made his way through the building, he remembered the time when he made his rounds as a guard, but he would always remind himself that that wasn’t the case anymore.

The inmate soon arrived at the cafeteria. All heads turned towards him as usual. The villains who he used to hunt down and trap were sitting in that very room and now he was one of them. The reptile was always treated poorly by them, as they were angry for being in there because of him. Some even teased him for getting a taste of his own medicine. Snap Shot felt miserable, but he thought that he deserved it.

After taking a few heavy steps along the cold steel floor, he spotted Wolfgang sitting alone at a table. The werewolf fidgeted with the bone from a chicken wing he just devoured and attempted to use it as a drum stick against the table, but it sounded rather dull and empty. Snap Shot slowly got closer to his former nemesis until they both faced each other. “Hi.” The only word the crocodile could speak out loud.

“Hey.” Wolfgang responded before Snap Shot sat down at the other side of the table.

Things between them have been complicated ever since their capturing. The Doom Raiders rejected them both and they were the only ones they could talk to inside the prison. However, both couldn’t deny that there was more than just wanting to talk to someone as the reason they spend time together.

“Sleep well?” Wolfgang briefly looked at the reptile before focusing on the bone between his fingers again.

Snap Shot gave him a stare. “On that bed?” Wolfgang knew best how uncomfortable the cells were and barely slept either when he first got imprisoned.

“Yeah, dumb question.” Wolfgang attempted to smile and showed his row of dangerously sharp teeth for a second before closing his mouth again. “Did anyone else talk to you yet?”

“You mean besides insults? Nah.” Even though it was quite depressing, the conversation stayed casual and the former Skylander already got used to the downsides of being hated in prison.

“There’s gonna be a show in a few hours in the yard. Wanna come?” Wolfgang kept eye contact with Snap Shot as he asked him to accompany him.

“Sure thing.” Snap Shot smiled faintly. He couldn’t help but feel like that was Wolfgang’s attempt to get closer to him. He currently had too much on his mind to worry about his feelings, but he never did confess them to Wolfgang. Maybe he would get the chance today.

As the day went on, many Skylanders who weren’t busy looking for the Golden Queen came together to chat and train. Among them were the Senseis Tidepool and Boom Bloom. After the Quickshot’s rather rough parting with Wild Storm, she became quite lonely. Luckily, she soon started to enjoy the company of the Ninja Boom Bloom, who always wanted to get to know the spy better.

“What do you think about having these at your window?” Boom Bloom picked up a couple of glowing white water lilies from a pond and presented them to her friend. “They are held in water so they could suit you.” The plant mutant is very fond of nature and especially flowers. Possibly because she was one of them herself.

“They look lovely Bloom, but I think my squids would be bothered by flowers in their tank.” The Water Skylander referred to her squid guns which had their own little aquatic rooms inside of her own. They help her out so much that she wants to treat them as good as she can.

“I understand… how about wearing one in your hair then?” The Life Sensei gently tucked one of the lilies in between Tidepool’s seaweed hair. “You should take your helmet off some time, I think your hair is fascinating.”

Tidepool couldn’t repress a slight blush and moved a few strings of hair behind her ear. Her expression shifted immediately when she saw something behind her friend. Like paralyzed, the Sensei just stared into one direction. Boom Bloom soon took notice of that and turned around to see what had her so shocked.

Turns out that Wild Storm was just walking by and caught Tidepool’s attention. The Sensei was accompanied by the Magic Bowslinger Buckshot, who joyfully strolled next to the calm knight. The Air Skylander turned his head as well and spotted Tidepool. They were both like frozen and just stared at each other before quickly looking away and going on with their day. The two haven’t interacted with each other ever since their last conversation which was months ago. They decided that it would be best for both of them to spend time apart after their relationship was getting increasingly problematic.

Buckshot gave Wild Storm a confused look whilst tilting his head. “You alright?”

“Yes, I was just lost in thoughts for a moment.” Wild Storm didn’t want to admit that he was looking at Tidepool and felt guilty for not talking to her after so many months of silence.

“Okay…” Buckshot didn’t entirely believe the knight, but he didn’t want to bother him with more questions. The two Senseis have never talked much before, but after Buckshot noticed Wild Storm being lonelier than usual, he decided to approach him. From there they have been getting along pretty well. “Sooo, what do you wanna do today?”

“We could go to the training field.” Wild Storm didn’t do many activities besides practicing and improving his skills at the Academy.

“Again?” Buckshot has joined his friend in many sessions and was slowly getting tired of it. “How about we do something more… fun?”

The Air Skylander turned his head to face the faun. “Fun?” Wild Storm asked with a somewhat irritated tone.

“Yeah! You know, that’s what you call something you enjoy.” Buckshot teased his companion and his lack of humor.

Wild Storm released a brief laugh. “Fine, we can do something fun for a change.” The knight decided to finally loosen up a little.

“Great! I already have an idea!” The goat didn’t hesitate to speed ahead and lead the way for the knight.

Tidepool looked after the two leaving her sight and felt a longing desire while doing so. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

Tidepool snapped out of her trance-like state and directed her sight back to Boom Bloom. “Uh… no actually. Did you have something in mind?”

“I heard there was some show at the prison. Skylanders are invited too, to have a somewhat peaceful event with the villains.” Boom Bloom was interested in the event and would like to treat the villains with peace rather than violence, unless there’s no other choice.

“That sounds nice. Count me in!” Tidepool smiled and was glad to have an activity with her now closest friend. Yet she couldn’t help but miss something. She looked back to see if Wild Storm was still there, but soon stopped and forgot about him.

As the sun was slowly setting and most of the Skylanders returned from their missions, the villains at Cloudcracker Prison finished their daily routine. They were allowed to go outside before the sun fully sets but had to be in their cells during the night. Snap Shot sat on a rock near the energy barrier around the building. He tossed a small stone at it which was just reflected by the transparent blue wall. He sighed and gazed at the sky. It made him feel free and calm, but the blue taint of the barrier kept reminding him that he was one of the villains that he used to lock up himself.

The reptile’s lonely moment was interrupted by a familiarly haunting voice. “Feeling down, Snap?”

Snap Shot turned around to see Dreamcatcher, for once without a sarcastic smile on her face. The former Skylander knew better than to believe that she genuinely cared about him, but he has gotten used to her by now. “Just the usual.”

The head floated next to crocodile and stared outside of the barrier as well. “How are things with Wolfgang going?” The Air villain was curious if her advice was of any use for the oblivious lovers.

“We talk more, but I’m guessing that’s because no one else does.” Snap Shot looked down on the ground before pushing himself up from the rock. “I’m not waiting for him to confess, and you shouldn’t be either.”

Dreamcatcher seemed disappointed, but she didn’t care enough to be upset. “Whatevs, your dreams are more than enough for me.” She grinned at the blushing Snap Shot before they both headed back to the yard of the prison.

Dr. Krankcase and Chef Pepper Jack were busy building up a wooden stage in the middle of the field. Some other villains carried a few tools and spotlights while Trap Masters carefully observed them.

Snap Shot saw Wolfgang tuning a ridiculously small guitar in a corner. It was so small that the werewolf could fit it into one hand, but it was the only guitar available.

“Getting ready for the show?” Snap Shot approached his friend while he was struggling with the guitar.

“I’m trying.” Wolfgang grunted when his pitch-black nails slipped off the knob of the guitar. “Krankcase told me it doesn’t require a musical number, but I’m sure some of us could use a little rock n’ roll.” He smirked and looked at Snap Shot who returned a calm smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” Snap Shot hasn’t admitted his true feelings to Wolfgang yet, but something was still holding him back.

“I gotta look for some boxes around here. See ya’ later!” Wolfgang walked past the reptile and started to search for some surround sound device.

“Wolfgang!” The wolf turned around after Snap Shot’s call. The blue reptilian wanted to use the moment to confess his feelings, but he suddenly became nervous. “Good luck.”

Wolfgang smiled and turned back around. Snap Shot sighed and felt embarrassed for backing off again. While he wasn’t happy about his current situation, Wolfgang made his stay in the prison far more bearable and he wanted to be closer to the musician. He was afraid that a confession could ruin everything.

The sun has finally set and even though the prisoners should be in their cells by now, due to the special event today they were allowed to stay outside during the show. Surprisingly, many Skylanders arrived to see the show as well. It was a peaceful event to lighten the distrustful relationship between the Skylanders and villains. Among the visitors were also Tidepool, Boom Bloom, Wild Storm and Buckshot. The Senseis had the same idea and the now separated friends Tidepool and Wild Storm were quite surprised to see each other there. It didn’t take anyone long to find a seat and patiently wait for the show to start. There were some suspicious looks going around, but overall there were no arguments or even rude remarks.

The crowd went silent as the curtains of the stage were pulled back and Krankcase revealed himself. The scientist held his hat in one hand and bowed down before starting the show. “Ladies and Gentlelanders, I am proud to host today’s special show at the famous Cloudcracker Prison!”

Clapping emerged from the crowd and everyone was keen to see what the doctor had in store.

Krankcase was silent for a moment and looked at the expecting faces in the crowd. “Normally something would get blown up at this point but due to legal reasons that can’t happen.”

Some laughs could be heard before it all went quiet again and Krankcase just stood in the spotlight awkwardly. He soon spotted a familiar green figure in the crowd. He was surprised when he recognized Boom Bloom, who kept looking at him with a cold glare. He hasn’t seen his creation ever since she rebelled against him and ruined his plans of conquering the Skylands with an army of mutated plants. Krankcase gulped and remembered that he was in the middle of a show.

The Tech villain clapped his hands together and continued. “Anyway, to start the show the enchanting Dreamcatcher has prepared a magical act!”

Krankcase gave some villains in the back a hand sign upon which the lights dimmed, and they set something up on the stage. The visitors looked curiously what was happening until the spotlight went back on in a darker purple and blue color and revealed Dreamcatcher floating above the wooden boards. She had a table with a purple cloth and a crystal ball on top of it behind her and smiled.

“Welcome everyone! I have been working hard on presenting you all a fascinating show that will reveal never before seen things or something.” The head attempted not using too much slang during her talk to not irritate the others as usual. “Any volunteers?”

Before anyone else, Buckshot immediately raised his hand and jumped up excitedly. He waved to make sure the villainess would see and pick him. Wild Storm shook his head after seeing how eager his companion was about, as he thought, nonsense.

Dreamcatcher looked through the crowd for a few seconds before seeing how Buckshot became increasingly impatient and started to jump repeatedly. “Ugh, the… goat in the back?” She thought to herself that he would stop jumping if she picked him, so she did exactly that.

Buckshot smiled and squeezed himself through the crowd before hopping onto the stage and almost pushing Dreamcatcher down, who was already annoyed by his hyperactive behavior.

“Now just stand in front of the table and think of something and I will tell everyone what it is.” Dreamcatcher explained to the faun and the audience before turning on the light underneath the crystal ball with her telepathic powers.

Buckshot was very excited to see what the head had in store and didn’t hesitate to stare into the ball and think of something. “Should I close my eyes?”

“it doesn’t matter.” Dreamcatcher quickly shot further questions down and started to use her psychic abilities to see into Buckshot’s mind. “You’re thinking of… pizza?”

“I’m really hungry.” Buckshot smiled and was a bit embarrassed about that being the thought everyone could see, but at least Boom Bloom laughed upon his response.

Dreamcatcher rolled her eyes. “Then think of something else.” The strange being had to hold herself back to not become rude with the Skylander.

Buckshot focused once more and thought of something more sensible. The villain increased the light coming from the mystical ball and read the Sensei’s thoughts again.

“You… are happy to have such a good friend.” Dreamcatcher replied. She turned around to investigate the crowd and see Wild Storm. “That guy with the mask.” She turned once more. “And those two ladies.” She was referring to Boom Bloom and Tidepool.

Buckshot blushed instinctively. “Did I think of that?” He looked at his fellow Senseis and then back to Dreamcatcher. “Heh, I guess it’s the truth. I am glad to have such good friends after being trapped in a labyrinth for years and feeling completely cut off from society.

The crowd went silent, but the three Skylanders were glad to hear about their friend’s feelings, even if it had a dark background.

“Okay then, I think that’s enough for today.” Dreamcatcher decided to finish her show, mostly because she had a hard time navigating through Buckshot’s rather chaotic mind. “Give it up for…”

“Buckshot.” The Magic Bowslinger finished her sentence.

“What he said!” Dreamcatcher quickly left the stage as the crowd was applauding and Buckshot returned to his seat next to Wild Storm.

Krankcase made his way back into the spotlight to continue the show. “Thank you, Dreamcatcher for the… enlightening presentation!”

“Moving on, our infamous chef cook Chef Pepper Jack prepared a special meal for two volunteers from the audience!” Krankcase moved out of the way for the walking vegetable to enter the scene with a humongous pot of burning hot sauce.

The crowd applauded as the cook bowed down and introduced himself. “Thank you, thank you. Here I have a very special dish which took me the entire day and most of the kitchen’s resources to make. A hot sauce which adapts to the taster’s personal favorite flavor!”

Impressed voices could be heard from the crowd and a couple of villains and Skylanders were interested in the odd creation.

“Now, I will need two brave volunteers to try a spoon of the sauce and prove to you that it is not just any regular hot sauce.” As proud as the Fire villain was, he wanted to get rid of any suspicions the audience may have.

Pepper Jack looked through the crowd until he finally picked someone. “You there! With the horns and glowing white eyes! Get up here!”

Wild Storm didn’t raise his hand and wasn’t exactly happy to be picked either, but after seeing Buckshot’s expecting face, the knight decided to play along.

Chef Pepper Jack looked back into the crowd and chose another contester. “And you! The blue lady with the freckles!”

Tidepool pointed her finger at herself to make sure she was the one he meant. Both her and Wild Storm became uncomfortable as Tidepool made her way to the stage and the two stood next to each other. Chef Pepper Jack grabbed a spoon and dipped it into the pot before approaching the stiff Skylanders. “Now you two will each taste a spoon of the sauce and then you tell me what flavor it has for each of you. Understood?”

The Senseis nodded without looking at each other and only focused on the spoon with the burning red sauce.

“You go first, big guy!” Wild Storm was the first to try it. He moved the food towards the dark inside of his mask and into his mouth, even though no one could see that. Right after that, Pepper Jack gave Tidepool another spoon, who also put it in her mouth. The two tasted it for a few seconds before they both choked up in disgust. Tidepool spit the sauce out after a few moments and held her stomach. “That tastes terrible!”

Chef Pepper Jack looked at the disturbed Skylander in shock. He may be a villain, but he truly didn’t want to serve anyone bad food. He looked over to Wild Storm who turned his back towards him and was completely unresponsive. The Air Skylander suddenly started to shake and he slowly moved out of the spotlight. The terrible taste of the sauce caused the knight to lose control over his beast form and it was about to overpower him, but before that could happen, he quickly ran off and left the show.

“Wild-” Tidepool took notice of his outburst and wanted to go after him, but she stopped herself and simply stood there watching her former friend run off. Buckshot immediately got off his chair to run after the bewildered knight and leave the facility as well. Meanwhile Tidepool returned to the seat next to Boom Bloom, who made sure that her friend was alright.

Boos echoed through the crowd and Chef Pepper Jack started to panic. “Well, I guess I should have a look at that recipe once more. That’s it for today!”

The villain quickly left the stage and ran back into the prison before anyone could harass him further.

Krankcase returned to the stage with a very nervous expression and wasn’t sure what to say anymore. “Uh… that was not part of the script…”

The crowd started to boo once more and before Krankcase could go on, all the lights went out. Everyone was confused as to what was happening and questioned the sudden blackout. After just a few moments, all the spotlights went back on and pointed at the very top of the stage. Everyone gasped after seeing Wolfgang standing up there with a guitar that he quickly painted in black and red colors a few minutes prior.

“Looks like I have to get this show started.” The werewolf smirked before he dropped onto the stage, throwing Krankcase aside and starting to play a wild guitar solo on his instrument. He connected a bunch of boom boxes earlier which increased the sound and forced everyone to cover their ears. Snap Shot was one of the plagued crowd members and just stared at the display in shock. “Wolfgang… what are you doing?” The reptile was thinking to himself.

Wolfgang wasn’t bothered by the terrible notes and kept on playing until the entire stage started to fall apart. The spotlights started to shift colors and there was a fascinating light show which could be seen all the way from the Academy. The guards of the prison had enough and quickly pummeled Wolfgang as the stage crumbled into a ruin. They handcuffed him and the remaining Doom Raiders and escorted them back into the prison. “Hey, you can’t do that! I was just getting started! Everyone else got to finish their act!” Wolfgang protested and tried to resist, but he was overpowered by the Skylanders and dragged back into his cell. The remaining villains from the audience, including Snap Shot, were also sent back into the building. As Krankcase was about to enter the prison, he turned his head to see Boom Bloom standing in the middle of a crowd of Skylanders about to leave. She gave him a dangerous stare that made Krankcase’s skin crawl. The look didn’t last long as the doctor was soon pushed back inside the prison.

The night has fallen over Skylands and while the Doom Raiders were already back behind bars, some other villains still roamed around the big halls of the prison, trying to find their cells. Snap Shot passed Wolfgang’s cell and noticed the wolf laying in his bed and staring up at the wall. It reminded him of himself and he felt sorry for the lonely musician.

“That sure was a show back there.” Snap Shot leaned himself against the bars in front of the small room, catching Wolfgang’s attention who sat up on his bed.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” Wolfgang sounded genuinely sorry and disappointed in himself.

“Kinda.” Snap Shot smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood. “But if I’m completely honest, I didn’t find it that bad.”

Wolfgang got up and moved closer to the bars the reptile was leaning against. “Really? Is that why you covered your ears like everyone else?”

“Well, it didn’t sound bad when it was dimmed through my hands.” The two prisoners laughed shortly and looked into each other’s eyes. It may have been brief, but they both felt something they haven’t felt in a long time.

“Anyway, I gotta go back to my cell, otherwise a guard will handcuff me as well.” Snap Shot straightened himself back up and was about to leave before he could feel a grip around his hand. He looked down to see Wolfgang reaching through the bars and holding it.

“See you tomorrow?” Wolfgang asked while not letting go of the reptile’s hand and looking into his yellow eyes with a soft smile.

Snap Shot smiled back and grabbed Wolfgang’s hand in return. “See you tomorrow.”

The hands of the former enemies slowly parted as Snap Shot walked away. Wolfgang longingly looked after the blue crocodile, feeling way calmer after the short conversation. Snap Shot on the other hand hid his intense blush by turning around and quickly heading to his cell. Now he was sure that there was something more between him and Wolfgang.

#skylanders #skylanders after the end #after the end #fanfiction #original story #snap shot #wolfgang #dreamcatcher #dr krankcase #tidepool #wild storm #buckshot #boom bloom

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calavir-fr · 7 years

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21 Guns by Aaroniero

Hero had been traveling for weeks. His journey has made him many adoring fans throughout the ashen wastes. There were parties and there were cheers. There were fireworks and there was joy. Many young maidens promised him their wings in courtship but he politely refused. They weren’t exactly what he was looking for. That itch in the back of his mind had been building for as long as he could remember, but Hero didn’t know what it was. He continued his march across the crumbling wasteland with as much concentration as he could focus on the problem. What was it? Villain had been pacing for weeks. He was thinking over the past while and had come to one resolution. He didn’t know what it was, but he was missing something. It was something crucial, but he knew not what it was. He had watched and listened from his sanctuary in a dead fissure in the volcanic landscape as all manner of joyous occasion went on in the distance. Some sort of Holiday? It wasn’t the Flameforger’s Festival yet, was it? The fireworks and the cheering and the smell of food in the sulphurous stench of the wastes all made that feeling worse. He growled, “Go away.” He ordered the feeling. It didn’t seem to listen too well. He stopped his pacing suddenly. He sneered at nothing than paced over to his makeshift, mostly pilfered, bed and grabbed his, also entirely pilfered, collection of gear. He tied his bandana around his crested head and quickly re-bandaged a burn he had gotten earlier in the day. He turned to the small entrance to his hovel and said, “I’m going for a walk.” To nobody in particular actually. It was angry nonetheless. The acrid fog of the wastes clung to the blackened ground that night. The mist enveloped everything and allowed a clear view of nothing. Hero sat upon a small bluff stoking what was left of his fire. This area, he noted, was dormant and was thus cold with the cloud cover that was often nearly permanent. There was little left to burn around here however. He was above the fog line and could gaze across a large area. The Furnace blazed far on the horizon and tendrils of light spread from its base, but ended far short of his position. Hero simply lay by his fire for a long while. He wondered what was next for him. Perhaps he would chase away some raiders or fight a great monster. Perhaps he would foil a villain’s schemes. What was he thinking? That’s childish. The idea made him a little sad however. A ways away was a second high point. Hero watched as another fire was built upon it. Another traveler that was not too fond of the stench of the fog most likely. The flame flickered dimly in the light. He stood up and walked away in search of fuel for his dying fire. Villain dropped two logs into his fire in the meantime. Luckily, he had found a withered tree a while back. He was glad that nobody else was around, as far as he could tell. He didn’t want to be seen out here. He found the stink of the fog less favorable than the comparatively clear air on the rocks in any case. As he sat next to his fire, he thought deeply to himself. What was he going to do next? Who would he con, cheat, or lie to? What to eat tomorrow? Why am I in this terrible place? That was the question he often asked himself. Why would he spend his life in a foul smelling, hot, filthy wasteland when he could go swimming or flying in a place that wouldn’t cook him like a goose the moment he lets down his guard? He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter.” He said. What does matter though? He would have to sleep on it. A loud call from behind him made him sigh in despair. He really didn’t want to deal with the fog. Hero placed a dried up cactus on the fire and it roared back to life. There were quite a few ashfall pricklers around where he had camped apparently. They are good for eating too. Hero could see the occupant of the other fire now. A smaller dragon then he sat attended it. From this distance, he couldn’t tell the exact breed though. He didn’t want to be rude, but it may also be rude not to, so he yelled over the distance, “Hello?” He didn’t feel like sleeping anyway. Villain sighed. At least the voice hadn’t been, “Stop there.” or “Turn out your pockets, now!” It was a mere greeting. It was one that he didn’t feel like replying too, but what else was there to do? Until the fog went away, he couldn’t exactly move his camp nor do anything less boring. “Yeah?” Villain replied at a volume he hoped would be loud enough to reach the stranger. He didn’t want to sleep in such an open area anyway. Villain looked up to the overcast to find at least one of the moons but couldn’t see them through the clouds. How disconcerting it is to not have any control. His senses were distorted by the darkness and the fog. That really made him think. It tested his faith in his own senses in other situations. He growled to abate the feeling. Nothing lasts, so why should he care about anything like doubt now? He couldn’t even tell what time it was. Hero settled a bit next to the fire’s warmth. The chill seemed to only be growing. If he had stayed home all those years ago, he wouldn’t have to huddle next to a fire on some bluff moping about his problems. He’d be talking with friends and family. He was a hero at one point and saved many people, but he wasn’t entirely sure now. Who knows how many of them would not be around without him? Perhaps he had gotten too close to the fire to step back. He probably would do it all again anyway. That was his way after all. Help the poor and downtrodden at a moment’s notice. He smiled for the first time genuinely in several weeks. “Anything interesting happen lately?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why, but that stranger put him at ease. Villain chuckled. If the dragon on the other end knew who he was, he’d probably run. He didn’t want to fight anymore. Not now at least. He wanted a nice nap by the fire. He felt like this dragon wouldn’t hurt a fly if given the choice anyway. “Sure, I’ve got a few.” Villain offered with a small smile. He would probably have to leave out the stories about pillaging. The way the strange said it made him happy to share. He’d probably never meet the dragon again anyway. Villain told his stories of travel and combat, but left out the moments of reckless disregard for safety, run-ins with his nemesis, and theft and pillaging. When Villain had tired, Hero gave his stories of grandeur and accomplishment. He had only mentioned his newer travels before red light peeked over the horizon and the cold began to creep away with the fog. The fires had gone out and Villain collected his gear and slipped into the still extensive shadows. He quickly found his hideaway, but he found that the fog had destroyed most of his loot. He then decided at that moment that he might as well just head west. It was a while before Hero noticed the stranger’s disappearance. In the distance however, he could see the dragon moving towards the sunrise. He stood up and followed. He knew that there was a series of caves ahead and they would make good camps. Perhaps they would meet again someday.

#stories

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recentnews18-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/battlefield-vs-single-player-stories-are-the-right-way-to-do-war-games/

Battlefield V's single-player stories are the right way to do war games

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Part of The Verge holiday 2018 gaming guide

Fighting Nazis is timely again, and yet Battlefield’s return to World War II feels ill-advised. Endless war has taken a toll on this series, and the generals need a new strategy.

I’ll start with some praise. Despite its flaws, Battlefield V is a breathtakingly cinematic game, and it has all of the relentless chaos that fans expect. In my experience playing a press preview of the game, there were only a few bugs (mostly funny ones, like corpses wobbling in midair), and the game retains the series’s recent level of polish. Control inputs feel tight and fluid, everything looks really nice, and the user interface is better than ever, which are all real accomplishments. Battlefield V is an unquestionably well-crafted object.

But as I was thinking about this review, I could not escape a strange feeling. I’ve now been playing Battlefield since 2002. I’ve spent thousands of hours playing these games: it’s a weird fact that’s difficult to reconcile with my personal identity as an adult. A past self decided to love these games, and now I’m cursed by my mastery of them. At this point, it’s hard to tell whether I’m playing for enjoyment or routine.

It’s at least comforting to play the same game over and over, as the movements become rote. It’s nice when the body and a task become the same thing. (I think this is how games like Battlefield become so abstract: after a while, you’re not holding a gun or fighting Nazis; you’re just responding to patterns and using your limbs effectively.) But this familiarity can also be alienating. A few hours into my multiplayer tour, as the rest of the world faded to the background, I had a genuine out-of-body experience. It was like watching a phantom version of a younger self charging an enemy flag. The sameness of it all made me feel like a passenger. My Battlefield exploits now read more like The Myth of Sisyphus than a medal of honor citation.

Despite my optimism for big changes to the series, developer DICE bluffed its hand. The game’s “Grand Operations” mode strings together multiday battles that are supposed to have continuity, but the consequences of winning or losing a match are minor, like adding a little bit of time to the next round. You have to squint to see how Grand Operations differs from the 16-year-old Conquest mode, and other modes like Breakthrough and Domination don’t offer meaningfully different experiences. Battlefield V’s multiplayer is essentially a lot of the same chaos: capture a point, drive a tank, fly a plane, die, repeat. Character customization and progression are tedious and don’t add much to the experience, though I wholeheartedly welcome EA’s confident turn toward inclusiveness. Ultimately, Battlefield is still rock-paper-scissors with explosions — something with exciting moments, but no sense of accomplishment. At least they’re really nice explosions.

As multiplayer shooters are rapidly evolving with the emergence of differentiated battle royale games, Battlefield is no longer an FPS bellwether. I’ve been playing another recently released WWII game, Post Scriptum, which is made by a team of people who, incidentally, started as Battlefield 2 modders. If Battlefield V is a glistening statue, Post Scriptum is a pile of rocks. It’s buggy, clunky, and only for people with the patience for an early access game that might never be finished. It’s also one of the most memorable shooters I’ve played in a while, with moments that I want to run to tell my friends about.

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Post Scriptum is a shooter that lets you do things other than shooting, which I think ought to be the future of every multiplayer game with guns. Its clever trick is using the stakes and atmosphere of a war game to make the non-shooting activities feel genuinely rewarding. Lately, I’ve been obsessed with playing Post Scriptum as Euro Truck Simulator: World War II. As a logistics truck driver, I can ferry supplies to the front line while getting shot at, which lets me be a part of the deadly spectacle of a large-scale battle without killing people. Playing music out of my truck over the game’s local chat is met with laughs and appreciation. It’s something I simply can’t find in a Battlefield game. It’s weird. It’s fun. It makes me smile. I just wish it was made by the artists at DICE.

And then there’s Battlefield V’s single-player campaign, which really surprised me. The “War Stories” format, introduced in 2016’s Battlefield 1, is the smartest attempt at single-player storytelling in war games that I’ve seen. I just wish DICE had made more of them. There are only three war stories to play in Battlefield V, with a fourth coming in December. (Battlefield 1 had six.) Each story takes about an hour to complete, and while they’re hampered by forgettable action sequences, laughable NPC intelligence, and formulaic set pieces, the format still feels like something with great potential.

Instead of playing an untouchable hero who inexplicably massacres hordes of enemies like in so many other shooters, these short stories allow you to be a vulnerable part of war’s death machine, which feels more authentic than getting the costumes right. Battlefield V’s opening sequence achieves this feeling to stunning effect. When you start the game, you jump between characters in rapid succession, often taking the place of someone who just killed you and continuing the fight from their perspective. The opening whisks you from a nighttime raid to a desert ambush and huge aerial battle. I wish the entire game had been like this.

The War Stories format also cleverly echoes the intangible experience of hearing real war stories told, which often walk the line between real historical accounts and tales stretched tall by time. I was impressed by one Battlefield V story about two brothers from West Africa who were sent to France to fight for a colonial power whose land they had never seen. After native French soldiers took their guns and handed them shovels, they had to overcome the racism of their allies before being allowed to achieve glory in battle — only to see themselves erased from history in the story’s epilogue. It’s a tight and powerful single-player story that’s wrapped in the modern context of a veteran reflecting on his long-secret contribution to history. I wanted more like it.

The “Tirailleur” story could have been the model for a deeply felt war game that elevates neglected heroes into popular historical canon. We’ve had decades of interactive Clint Eastwood movies, and so I appreciate DICE’s attempt to break away from tried-and-true narratives, even if it’s clumsy about expressing them in gameplay. I just wish these stories were the centerpiece of a more complete game, not a context wrapper for multiplayer deathmatches.

If the next Battlefield game only has a collection of untold war stories, I don’t think I’ll miss its multiplayer spectacle. After 16 years, I’m ready for my own war story to end and for others to begin.

Battlefield V is available now on PS4, PC, and Xbox One.

The Verge holiday 2018 gaming guide

September 9

Donut County is a game about swallowing Los Angeles and realizing you’re an asshole

Dragon Quest XI review (PS4, PC)

Dragon Quest’s creator doesn’t want to stop working anytime soon

Marvel’s Spider-Man review (PS4)

Shadow of the Tomb Raider review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

Destiny 2: Forsaken review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

Nintendo Labo Vehicle Kit review (Switch)

Nintendo’s new Xenoblade expansion eases players into the daunting world of RPGs

Life is Strange 2 review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

October 9

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

Super Mario Party review (Switch)

428: Shibuya Scramble is the best crime book you’ll ever read on your PS4

The World Ends With You review (Switch)

Return of the Obra Dinn review (PC)

Call of Duty: Black Ops 4 review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

Red Dead Redemption 2 review (PS4, Xbox)

Red Dead Redemption 2 improves some of my favorite parts of The Witcher 3

This queer horror game forces you to literally tear yourself apart

November 9

With Diablo III and Dark Souls for Switch, you never have to leave the dungeon

Déraciné review (PSVR)

Tetris Effect review (PS4, PSVR)

Tetsuya Mizuguchi’s trippy new take on Tetris will put you in the zone

Tetris Effect is perfect for people overwhelmed by modern video games

Hitman 2 review (PS4, Xbox, PC)

How Hitman 2’s developers turned its gigantic levels into ever-evolving playgrounds

Sean Bean is excited to see how he dies in Hitman 2

Fallout 76 journal: an ongoing exploration of post-apocalyptic West Virginia

November, continued 3

Pokémon: Let’s Go review (Switch)

Pokémon: Let’s Go is the perfect way to introduce kids to the series

Pokémon: Let’s Go is a ‘starting point for the next 20 years of Pokémon’

December 1

Super Smash Bros. Ultimate’s single-player mode shines on the Switch

Source: https://www.theverge.com/2018/11/20/18103432/battlefield-v-review-single-player-battle-gameplay-combat-story-video-game

0 notes

siribear · 4 years

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somehow, their mattress survived the bombs. the bed frame? not so much. with codsworth’s help, she drags the splintered wood out of the house. other than that, she can’t bring herself to remove anything else from the house. not the ruined stereo, the blasted television, the broken kitchen chairs. codsworth had two hundred years to clean up the glass and wood and dust, but other than that, her home remains untouched.

two centuries ago, she stood in shaun’s room with her husband. played with the mobile above shaun’s crib that’s only shattered bits of plastic and string, now. she doesn’t move that, either. just moves the dusty old books back to their ruined shelves.

she changes into the leather armor in her old bathroom. doesn’t look in the mirror for fear of what she might see.

back in her room, she lays out her new guns and ammo. codsworth hovers nearby, reminding her how to clean them when she misses a step. she replaces her supplies in her pack, hides nate’s wedding ring in a pocket near the bottom, and shoves it in a corner.

claire lies back on her old mattress. she expects to sleep, but doesn’t. every time she closes her eyes, she sees the dead raiders. the ones she tore apart.

instead, she spends the remaining daylight finding beds for the others. it feels strange, looting her neighbors’ houses, but she ignores the feeling the best she can. in the ruins, she finds enough beds for the longs, for mama murphy, and sturges. at the back of one of the houses is a basement, and there she finds a sleeping bag and a store of food that can last them a few days.

she unloads a duffel bag in the house across from hers, and the group divvies up the food. when preston pokes his head in, she unrolls the sleeping bag and apologizes.

he shrugs. ‘i’ve slept on worse. thank you, though.’

she does find a broken water pump behind another house, as well as a small garden plot with the remains of two fruit plants. when she shows sturges, he assures her he can fix it.

preston catches her still wandering the neighborhood long after the sun goes down.

‘can’t sleep?’ he asks softly.

‘just trying to pull this place back together.’

he nods. ‘i can’t either. i keep thinking more raiders will come in the middle of the night.’

‘you can’t defend the others if you’re dead on your feet, you know.’

a chuckle. ‘i could say the same to you.’

‘that’s - okay. that’s fair.’

the smile he gives her is genuine, understanding. ‘look, i know i kind of forced you to help us - ’ she gestures in the negative, but he continues. ‘ - but i didn’t really expect you to stay and help us... rebuild. so, thank you. again.’

it’s her turn to shrug. ‘i wanted to help.’

‘that’s the thing. we’re not - i’m not used to that. not anymore.’ he sits on the curb of the worn down road. she sits cross legged next to him. ‘at the museum, i mentioned the quincy massacre.’ he takes a steadying breath. ‘we were betrayed. first, a minuteman, clint, joined the gunners. they attacked quincy, and would have taken over that night if not for colonel hollis. we fortified the town, held our own for the days that the gunners attacked, but clint returned. he wanted us to surrender.

‘colonel hollis called for reinforcements, but no one came. too many politics over the line of succession after the former general died, i guess. we didn’t last another night. twenty of us made it out of quincy. thirteen of us made it to concord. now it’s just us.’

‘and you’re the last minuteman,’ she concludes.

‘but it doesn’t have to be that way!’ his change in tone startles her. ‘the commonwealth - i think it still needs the minutemen. we can do better. defend the people we actually swore to protect. but i - i don’t know if i can - ’ his previous enthusiasm dies just as quickly as it came.

claire mulls it over, tapping her chin. ‘you’d have to rebuild that trust as well. i can’t imagine quincy endeared the minutemen to anyone.’

his shoulders sag.

‘so, preston.’ she stands, grinning. ‘where do we start?’

‘wait, really?’ he jumps to his feet. ‘you’re going to do this?’

‘i haven’t been here long, but i can see having more people like you in the commonwealth can’t hurt,’ she reasons.

‘haven’t been here... where did you come from, anyway?’ he looks to the pip-boy on her wrist. ‘a vault?’

she blanks. no one would really believe she’s two hundred years old, right? she wouldn’t believe it if anyone tried to tell her that. so she lies. ‘oh, no. i’m from out west. i’m looking for someone.’

‘mama murphy mentioned that. and you think they came to the commonwealth?’

claire kicks a rock on the road. ‘it’s the only lead i’ve got, so far.’

preston hums, thinking. ‘well, i can’t help but be grateful for your timing.’ he looks over at the house across from hers, where she had shown him the sleeping bag. ‘i think i might actually sleep easy tonight.’ when claire doesn’t move to leave, he says, ‘if you still can’t sleep, there’s a settlement over the hill. it’s a farm, run by the abernathy family. i.. remember they requested help from the minutemen, before we fell apart. maybe you can talk to them?’

‘a farm? we could definitely use some food,’ she says, mostly to herself. ‘yeah, i think i’ll do that. thanks, preston.’

‘no problem, uh - ’

again, a name. she makes a decision, in the moment. ‘alice. just - call me alice.’

preston smiles. ‘no problem, alice. and i can’t thank you enough, honestly.’

‘thank me by getting some sleep, preston. i’ll be back soon.’

codsworth joins her on her way out of sanctuary. dogmeat, surprisingly, follows her across the bridge as well. alice scratches behind his ears as the trio stands on the edge of the bridge.

‘mum?’

‘yes, codsworth?’

‘i heard you speaking to mr. garvey. i think helping the minutemen is an honorable cause.’ she hums in agreement. ‘and i heard you say - your name is alice, mum?’

she doesn’t respond.

‘would you like me to adjust my settings?’

‘that would be best, codsworth.’

‘of course, miss alice.’

dogmeat whines. they continue toward the red rocket gas station, veering west as night settles around them.

post-war commonwealth is quieter, alice notes. no sound of cars in the distance, no sounds of the city. just the wind, the crunch of leaves under her feet, and the putter of codsworth hovering alongside her. a pair of - and she shouldn’t be surprised - giant flies attacks them as they pass by concord’s water tower, but they’re taken care of quickly. codsworth calls them bloatflies, alice calls them dead, and dogmeat calls them forward.

ahead, a wooden building appears over the hill.

‘that’ll be abernathy farm, then.’ she breaks into a jog.

dogmeat runs up to a small pen and begins sniffing around the fence. alice slows and whispers to codsworth, ‘what is that thing?’

‘that is a brahmin, mum. mutated after the war.’

brahmin. she stares at what should be a cow. or, it would be, if it only had one head.

‘you’ll step away from her, if you know what’s good for you,’ threatens a man from the porch of the towering house. he approaches slowly, a shotgun pointed at her chest.

alice takes two, slow steps away, hands up to show she means no harm. ‘i’m just here to trade for food.’

‘right,’ he draws the word out, eyeing the trio: a curious dog, a mr. handy, and a woman in bloodied leather armor. alice imagines they make quite a sight, even for the commonwealth.

‘it’s late, i know. i’m sorry.’ earlier, her pipboy read just before midnight. ‘i’m new to the commonwealth - killed a group of raiders this morning and helped a group of refugees settle in sanctuary over the hill.’

‘that was you?’ he lowers the shotgun an inch. ‘we heard the gunfire, but couldn’t get involved, not after - ’ he seems to catch himself. ‘anyway, fine. i was just wrapping up for the night. what are you looking for?’

‘any extra food would be great. some seeds would help us be more self sufficient, too.’

‘ever been a farmer?’

‘ah - no, but i’m willing to learn.’

the man, blake abernathy, he says, gives her tips on farming. she types in the notes on her pipboy. after, he disappears into the house. inside, alice can see a small light flicker on, and when he returns its with a younger woman in tow.

‘my daughter, lucy.’

‘nice to meet you!’ she holds out a hand, and alice shakes it. ‘you’re not one of the usual traders.’

‘i’m not from the area.’ she shrugs. ‘i’m actually with the minutemen. we’re trying to establish ourselves up in sanctuary.’

in the pipboy light, blake frowns. ‘you didn’t say you were with the minutemen.’

‘is that a problem?’

‘some people don’t take kindly to the minutemen. not after what happened at quincy.’

alice lets out a small, ah. ‘i’m sorry to hear that. oh,’ she takes the handful of seeds and produce from lucy and stuffs them in a pocket of her backpack, ‘what do i owe you?’

lucy must see the blank look on her face when blake tells her some amount of ‘caps.’ ‘do you not use bottle caps where you’re from?’ before alice can respond, lucy, thankfully, barrels on and helps her count out the caps from the pouch preston gave her. ‘it’s easy. just one-for-one.’

‘thank you,’ alice says, earnestly. the new currency will take some getting used to. cap-italism enters her mind, unbidden, and has to wave off blake and lucy’s confused looks when she begins to laugh. ‘just different is all. sorry.’

‘right. anyway, just watch out for raiders.’ blake’s voice shifts to a low growl. ‘they only know how to take what isn’t theirs. no matter who tries to stop them.’

‘daddy - ’

‘mind telling me what happened?’ alice ventures.

he does, pain evident in his voice. parents burying their child. he must hear some echoed understanding in her own voice when she asks what she can do to help. ‘mary had a locket, it’s been in connie’s family for generations. if you could get that back...’ a thought crosses his mind. ‘well, maybe we’ll reconsider our thoughts on the minutemen.’

alice nods. ‘it would be my pleasure.’

lucy grabs her arm when she turns to leave. ‘daddy, honestly, she looks dead on her feet. we have a spare bed upstairs. the locket can wait until the morning.’

blake seems to agree, because he doesn’t stop them when lucy hauls alice into the house.

‘i will guard the area, mum!’ codsworth calls as she crosses the doorway, and dogmeat follows in after her, tail wagging.

#oc: alice ward #having to stop myself from going 'milla jovovich voice: my name. is alice.'#siri drabbles #series: we will all go together when we go

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mikemortgage · 6 years

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‘He changed the world’ – Reaction to Paul Allen’s death

SEATTLE — Reaction to the death of Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, who died Monday:

Paul Allen’s contributions to our company, our industry and to our community are indispensable. As co-founder of Microsoft, in his own quiet and persistent way, he created magical products, experiences and institutions, and in doing so, he changed the world. I have learned so much from him — his inquisitiveness, curiosity and push for high standards is something that will continue to inspire me and all of us at Microsoft. Our hearts are with Paul’s family and loved ones. Rest in peace. — Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella, in a statement.

——

I am heartbroken by the passing of one of my oldest and dearest friends, Paul Allen. From our early days together at Lakeside School, through our partnership in the creation of Microsoft, to some of our joint philanthropic projects over the years, Paul was a true partner and dear friend. Personal computing would not have existed without him. But Paul wasn’t content with starting one company. He channeled his intellect and compassion into a second act focused on improving people’s lives and strengthening communities in Seattle and around the world. He was fond of saying, “If it has the potential to do good, then we should do it.” That’s the kind of person he was. Paul loved life and those around him, and we all cherished him in return. He deserved much more time, but his contributions to the world of technology and philanthropy will live on for generations to come. I will miss him tremendously. — Bill Gates, in a statement.

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While most knew Paul Allen as a technologist and philanthropist, for us he was a much-loved brother and uncle, and an exceptional friend. –sister Jody Allen, in a statement.

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Paul Allen stands as a giant in Washington history for the genius vision that was so important to creating Microsoft with Bill Gates. That he went on to do so much more for our state, nation and the world puts him in rarefied company. — Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, in a statement.

——

Paul Allen was the driving force behind keeping the NFL in the Pacific Northwest. His vision led to the construction of CenturyLink Field and the building of a team that played in three Super Bowls, winning the championship in Super Bowl XLVIII. The raising of the “12th Man” flag at the start of every Seahawks home game was Paul’s tribute to the extraordinary fan base in the Seattle community. His passion for the game, combined with his quiet determination, led to a model organization on and off the field. He worked tirelessly alongside our medical advisers to identify new ways to make the game safer and protect our players from unnecessary risk. I personally valued Paul’s advice on subjects ranging from collective bargaining to bringing technology to our game. Our league is better for Paul Allen having been a part of it and the entire NFL sends its deepest condolences to Paul’s family and to the Seahawks organization. ??– NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, in a statement.

——

RIP to my dear friend (& killer guitar player) Paul Allen. Your genius & generosity has & will forever be felt by mankind. — music mogul Quincy Jones, via Twitter.

——

Paul was a remarkable pioneer, a generous philanthropist and a special partner for us. SKG wouldn’t have been possible for us without him. Our hearts and prayers are with him and his family. — Steven Spielberg, Jeffrey Katzenberg and David Geffen, in a statement.

——

Paul was a true son of Seattle who made his beloved city – and our world – a better, more vibrant place. For generations to come, Seattleites and people across our planet will benefit from his vision, innovation, and generosity. He quite literally helped invent the future. — Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan, in a statement.

——

Rest in Peace, Paul Allen. — National Football League, via Twitter.

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Deeply saddened by the passing of Paul Allen. I’ll miss him greatly. His gracious leadership and tremendous inspiration will never be forgotten. The world is a better place because of Paul’s passion, commitment, and selflessness. His legacy will live on forever. — Seattle Seahawks head coach Pete Carroll, in a statement.

——

We miss you. We thank you. We love you. — Portland Trail Blazers, via Twitter.

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Big dog rest easy as you go home Paul Allen prayers for your family. — Oakland Raiders running back and former Seattle Seahawk Marshawn Lynch, via Twitter.

——

I will be always thankful for Paul Allen’s generosity and his kind heart. He was a genius, and genuine person, who cared about humanity all over the world and it was an honour to be able to learn from and be around such a great leader. — Philadelphia Eagles defensive end and former Seattle Seahawk Michael Bennett, via Twitter.

——

Thank you for being you, Paul Allen. Grateful I had the chance to know you. — Seahawks wide receiver Doug Baldwin Jr., via Twitter.

——

Paul Allen was the ultimate trail blazer — in business, philanthropy and in sports. As one of the longest-tenured owners in the NBA, Paul brought a sense of discovery and vision to every league matter large and small. He was generous with his time on committee work, and his expertise helped lay the foundation for the league’s growth internationally and our embrace of new technologies. He was a valued voice who challenged who challenged assumptions and conventional wisdom and one we will deeply miss as we start a new season without him. Our condolences go to his family, friends and the entire Trail Blazers organization. — NBA Commissioner Adam Silver, in a statement.

——

I am so sorry to hear this!!! Thank you Paul for your generosity towards myself and Darbury. Thank you for the wonderful monument of (Museum of Pop Culture) for Seattle Music. You built Seattle into a great city. Rest in Peace. — Former Nirvana star Krist Novoselic, via Twitter.

——

Our industry has lost a pioneer and our world has lost a force for good. We send our deepest condolences to Paul’s friends, the Allen family and everyone at Microsoft. — Apple CEO Tim Cook, via Twitter.

——

Seattle Sounders FC offers its deepest condolences to the Allen family during this difficult time. We stand united with our community in mourning the loss of one of our regions’ great icons. Paul Allen was a profound public leader, leaving an indelible mark on many aspects of civic life here in Settle, including the growth and success of professional soccer. He will be greatly missed. — Seattle Sounders Football Club, via Twitter.

——

Today we mourn the loss of Paul G. Allen, a man of extraordinary vision, leadership and generosity whose impact on our world is profound. Paul was a true innovator — co-founding Microsoft and launching the revolution that put a computer on every desktop — and what many would call a Renaissance man. The breadth of his curiosity was a hallmark of his life, whether it was delving into the mysteries of the brain, exploring the promise of artificial intelligence, working to protect endangered species, rocking out on the electric guitar or cheering on his beloved Seahawks. — University of Washington President Ana Mari Cauce, in a statement.

——

Very sad to hear of Paul Allen’s passing. His passion for invention and pushing forward inspired so many. He was relentless to the end. My heart goes out to Paul’s family and friends. — Amazon founder and CEO Jeff Bezos

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Our founder let us fly with super heroes. He showed us that we could create beautiful music of our own. He inspired us to look to the stars. Today we mourn the passing of Paul Allen. — The Museum of Pop Culture in Seattle, via Twitter.

——

Sad to hear of the passing of Paul Allen, who was a strong advocate for environmental protection. He and the team at Vulcan played a pivotal role in developing the Shark Conservation Fund alongside (The Leonardo DiCaprio Foundation). His legacy lives on via his incredible work as a philanthropist and investor. — Leonardo DiCaprio, via Twitter.

——

The world has lost a great technologist and philanthropist. Seattle has lost a true leader in our community. The legacy of Paul Allen will live on in the organizations he has built and the lives he has uplifted. — Starbucks CEO Kevin Johnson, via Twitter.

——

We have lost a friend and a giant. Mr. Allen, thank you for your extraordinary vision, your abundant generosity and for believing in all of us. By your example, you made us all better, kinder. May you Rest In Peace. Go Hawks! — Seahawks quarterback Russell Wilson, via Twitter.

——

RIP Paul Allen. Thank you for your immeasurable contributions to the community and beyond … Rock on. — Pearl Jam, via Twitter.

——

Saddened by the passing of Paul Allen a great leader in tech and a man of all seasons who fully enjoyed his life and wealth yet also gave back to the world at scale. I was especially impressed with how he took care of the Oceans. May the one who brings peace bring peace to all. — Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff, via Twitter.

——

So sad to hear about the passing of Paul Allen. Among many other things he was a pioneer of commercial space travel. We shared a belief that by exploring space in new ways we can improve life on Earth. All our thoughts are with his loved ones. — British billionaire Richard Branson, via Twitter.

——

We will hear so much about the tremendous impact that Paul has had on our state, our country, and the world–but the impact he has had on the people he worked with and those who knew him best cannot be overstated. He leaves a legacy of compassion, innovation, and heart that none of us will soon forget, and all of us will honour. It was joy to know Paul and to see his incredible drive and incredible heart, and he will be missed by me and so many others. –U.S. Sen. Patty Murray of Washington, via Twitter.

from Financial Post https://ift.tt/2RSiZN1 via IFTTT Blogger Mortgage Tumblr Mortgage Evernote Mortgage Wordpress Mortgage href="https://www.diigo.com/user/gelsi11">Diigo Mortgage

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k-ini-t · 6 years

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Ch.2[The Trade][short story]

"Hey! You... got me out of my cage, thank you!" He tried, offering a shy smile upward as he came alongside the other male. "... ... ..." They did not seem happy. The dark glower he was giving Setli actually gave him the impression that he hated him for even existing let alone speaking to him, but again, he wasn't telling him not to walk with him, so maybe that was just the way his face was. Rogues! "My name is - Is now a good time?" Or was the other being so quiet because he was trying to listen for the raiders while they walked?

Setli clamped his lips shut with the thought, looking widely around, and then back to the other as they walked, lower lids raising slowly as he waited for some sort of signal. Maybe the other would just tell him when it was safe to talk. Maybe there were secret hand signals - he'd heard thieves used a language all their own; he'd watch for them...

"...."

... Setli was beginning to think there was no danger and that the other couldn't actually speak. Because it was sundown now, and the other hadn't spoken once, but seemed to get very angry behind the eyes when Setli looked at him. Had he offended him? Maybe because the other couldn't speak, and couldn't say his name to reciprocate Setli's attempts to introduce himself. That had to be it. Gods, he felt terrible! He was trying to figure out what he could do or say to make up for his insensitivity while the thief began to make camp in a small rock clearing, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to break the ice without a verbal greeting of some sort and if he couldn't break the ice how would he apologize for --

"What town did you come from"

"My name is Cimesetli?!!" The smaller male cried, startling at the break in silence.

"No" the other said in exasperation, straightening from the small fire he'd built and turning to the nearby brush to begin collecting twigs. "What town did you come from, I said" he repeated with the slightest growl.

“O-Oh, um” Setli ducked his face with a hint of embarrassment, absently brushing some dirt from his tunic. “Vales. I’m from Vales.”

“Great. Nowhere near where I need to be.” Whether it was sarcasm or genuine relief, Setli couldn’t tell from their tone, but either way, it was the slightest bit hurtful! -

“I’m leaving the road tomorrow, so stop following me or you’ll never find your way back.”

“Oh?” Setli frowned with confusion, silent for a moment as the other built the fire up. “... Where are you going then? Surely you must be headed to a village. Or your dungeon. Are you going to some sort of thieves dungeon? Oh no, that would be called a hideout right??”

“I’m not going to a hideout. It’s not your business where I’m going.”

“Oh well - I just was a little curious, is all, because, really all there is outside Grovenhorde are the desert and the Cursed places - I thought a hideout made most sense; If you just don’t want to tell me you’re going to a hideout because you don’t want anyone to find out about your thief-family’s secret base, I understand! Really! I don’t intend to tell anyone about you or where you go or what adventure you were on when you saved me, no one listens to me for that long--”

“I’m not -- Stop” She lifted a hand, now looking concerned with a knit of her brows as she stared Setli down. “You’re getting excited. I’m not doing an adventure. I’m not going to a secret base. If you fucking follow me tomorrow you will die, stay on the road and forget you saw me.” Had the little bastard been smiling a second ago? He’d gone far-away in the eyes.

“I’m sorry - I don’t meet many rogues” Setli gushed with a drop to his knees, hands lifting to fold over his chest as he watched the other with an enraptured stare.

“I’m not a rogue” She argued -- pausing, seeming to consider it for a moment and then looking exasperated again. “It doesn’t matter what I am. You’re staying on the road? Correct? In the morning?”

“I don’t have anywhere I need to be; do you need help on your adventure?”

“I am not on an adventure”

“I’m a tailor’s apprentice, if that helps”

“That’s absolutely useless to me”

“I owe you for saving me from the raiders!”

“This is why I should have left you in that cage, this is the exact reason why I should have known better” he mumbled with a shake of his head and a turn back to his fire, one hand lifting to run down his face and up over his hair with an aggravated ruffle. Setli frowned, head tilting a bit before he let his gaze drift downward to stare into the flames with a relenting sigh.

“I don’t mean to be a pain - I’ll walk myself back on the road in the morning, I’m sure I can make it if I’m fast - so, since we aren’t leaving until morning anyway, can I know your name?” Truly, it wasn’t that much to ask. It wasn’t even like Setli knew the names of any wanted criminals, if bounty hunting was what the other was afraid of. He offered a reassuring smile with the thought while the other looked back to him, not shying away from the other’s cold stare.

“... Fine it’s Elle.”

“Elle! That’s a really nice name for a boy!” The other rolled their eyes again, and Selti leaned forward earnestly. “No, I like it! You give it, what’s the word I’m looking for - a masculine edge to it~” He’d only met female Elles before, but Elle made him feel like he was just - maybe saying the sound of it, which gave it some mystery! Like he could carve a symbol in a wall to show he’d robbed a house, and people would see it and know, ‘Gods above, Elle was here...!’

The other seemed to give the slightest shrug, their expression relaxing a bit, so Setli let a bit more enthusiasm break onto his face. “You could use that letter that sounds like your name as your marker; I think it’s one of the ones that’s easy to draw, though I’m not too familiar with most of them --”

“What the hell do you mean by ‘marker’” Elle asked, brows knitting with growing concern. That distant look, it was coming back to Setli’s eyes.

“To show you’ve robbed a house, or slain a villainous Lord, or --”

“What is wrong with you? That sounds like a terrible practice, doesn’t it?? Leaving your name on your crimes??”

“But it would be so mysterious!”

“No, writing your name on the evidence of your crime, that takes the mystery completely out of the crime, you understand that don’t you?”

“Well it’s interesting! In stories” Setli explained, and Elle’s gaze dimmed with understanding.

“- I’m going to sleep.” He dropped and rolled to face away from Setli, the other giving a bob of his brows and a little pout.

“Before you do that! I was curious, are you definitely not going on any adventures tomorrow, orrr...?”

“No adventures. Be quiet.”

“I have, I have, to know, where you’re going now~ I won’t be able to sleep Elle~ I’ve already imagined so many things-!”

“Seriously what is wrong with you”

“Are you meeting a friend?! Are you fighting a monster?! Are you searching for hidden treasure tomorrow?!--”

“I am going to the Mouth!!”

Spetli fell silent, eyes wide and brows raising. And... Elle sort of expected that silence. Because most people... understood what that meant.

At least that would give her the peace she wanted for the rest of the night. She closed her eyes...

“What’s the Mouth?”

“What” Her eyes opened again, brows lowering.

“What’s the Mouth? The mouth of what? A big monster” Spetli guessed, now sitting close to the fire and close to Elle’s back.

“You’ve never heard of the Mouth” Elle deadpanned, sitting up and staring at the young man beside them.

“No! Is it adventurous? Sounds ominous.”

“It is” Elle said with further disbelief, head shaking as they sat up. “No - I mean, it isn’t adventurous, but it is ominous. It’s... the Mouth! How have you not heard stories of it?”

“I mostly stick to bard songs? They’re generally less stressful” At least the ones they played in the square, though he’d overheard some of the darker stories sung in the taverns once or twice.

“Gods above. Look.” Elle crossed his legs, leaning with his hands raised with an enthusiasm for storytelling Setli recognized and immediately felt invigorated by as he leaned in to hear it. “The Mouth is a cavern. It’s on the edge of the Cursed Range. Legend says a thousand year old Lich lives within, and will grant anyone who finds it one wish - if there is something of value they’re willing to trade.” Setli’s eyes glittered with wonder, and Elle lifted a cautionary finger. “But it has to be something that’s equal in value. See, you can’t go and ask to be made rich and not trade something worth a life’s riches. Most people don’t realize that what a lich wants... it’s going to be something you don’t want to give, generally.”

That made sense... But Setli had to wonder then: “So - wait, then what do you plan to trade for your wish??”

“You.”

“--Hhha haaa...”

“Nah, it’s something I don’t really care about.” Elle sat back, shifting to recline again. “Not that I give a shit about you, you’re worthless to me and all, I just already worked out what I’m going to be okay parting with.”

“Ohh good” Setli laughed nervously, watching the other lay back down. Well... it seemed like... that was the end of the story. He stretched a bit, legs still a little sore even after the walk. He tilted his head back, looking up at the stars against the swirling blues and blacks of the night sky... seeing if he could strain his gaze enough to pick up any arcane energy. Sometimes it shimmered through the air in purples or greens... like light off of fish scales... It was really easy to miss it... ...

He startled as a twig broke somewhere in the trees, and then again as Elle began to snore softly. “-- Oh, don’t be asleep already!” He dove forward - earning the slightest jolt and a weary grunt of confusion as he shifted to hide against the other’s chest. “The dark frightens me, I really don’t want to fall asleep last, can you tell me more about the cave story?? Or another story, please, the fire’s going to burn out and when it’s gone I’m -- I’m --”

“You are the worst” Elle responded, face twisting into a deepening scowl at the creature burrowing against their front. “You are the worst mistake. This is my biggest mistake.”

“Come on, you must know stories, please, there’s sounds all around us, please, just one more short story, I’ll fall asleep really fast-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut your mouth, let me think, okay, alright, one time, there was a gross, loud monster in an Inn, who was drunk and was knocking things all over the place, and a - and a fucking rogue knight burst out of a closet and stabbed it a bunch of times with a broken broom handle - and the Inn was saved, are you sleeping yet?”

“What was the rogue knight doing in the closet of the Inn when the monster attacked--”

“You said you would be asleep not asking questions!--”

“That wasn’t a long enough story though! I-I need enough time to let my mind drift away from me!”

“For fuck’s saaaaake...”

#short story #trans character #nonbinary character #high fantasy #comedy

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banjoker · 7 years

Text

Hero and Villain - 21 Guns

Hero had been traveling for weeks. His journey has made him many adoring fans throughout the ashen wastes. There were parties and there were cheers. There were fireworks and there was joy. Many young maidens promised him their wings in courtship but he politely refused. They weren’t exactly what he was looking for. That itch in the back of his mind had been building for as long as he could remember, but Hero didn’t know what it was. He continued his march across the crumbling wasteland with as much concentration as he could focus on the problem. What was it? Villain had been pacing for weeks. He was thinking over the past while and had come to one resolution. He didn’t know what it was, but he was missing something. It was something crucial, but he knew not what it was. He had watched and listened from his sanctuary in a dead fissure in the volcanic landscape as all manner of joyous occasion went on in the distance. Some sort of Holiday? It wasn’t the Flameforger’s Festival yet, was it? The fireworks and the cheering and the smell of food in the sulphurous stench of the wastes all made that feeling worse. He growled, “Go away.” He ordered the feeling. It didn’t seem to listen too well. He stopped his pacing suddenly. He sneered at nothing then paced over to his makeshift, mostly pilfered, bed and grabbed his, also entirely pilfered, collection of gear. He tied his bandana around his crested head and quickly re-bandaged a burn he had gotten earlier in the day. He turned to the small entrance to his hovel and said, “I’m going for a walk.” To nobody in particular actually. It was angry nonetheless. The acrid fog of the wastes clung to the blackened ground that night. The mist enveloped everything and allowed a clear view of nothing. Hero sat upon a small bluff stoking what was left of his fire. This area, he noted, was dormant and was thus cold with the cloud cover that was often nearly permanent. There was little left to burn around here, however. He was above the fog line and could gaze across a large area. The Furnace blazed far on the horizon and tendrils of light spread from its base but ended far short of his position. Hero simply lay by his fire for a long while. He wondered what was next for him. Perhaps he would chase away some raiders or fight a great monster. Perhaps he would foil a villain’s schemes. What was he thinking? That’s childish. The idea made him a little sad, however. A ways away was a second high point. Hero watched as another fire was built upon it. Another traveler that was not too fond of the stench of the fog most likely. The flame flickered dimly in the light. He stood up and walked away in search of fuel for his dying fire. Villain dropped two logs into his fire in the meantime. Luckily, he had found a withered tree a while back. He was glad that nobody else was around, as far as he could tell. He didn’t want to be seen out here. He found the stink of the fog less favorable than the comparatively clear air on the rocks in any case. As he sat next to his fire, he thought deeply to himself. What was he going to do next? Who would he con, cheat, or lie to? What to eat tomorrow? Why am I in this terrible place? That was the question he often asked himself. Why would he spend his life in a foul smelling, hot, filthy wasteland when he could go swimming or flying in a place that wouldn’t cook him like a goose the moment he lets down his guard? He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter.” He said. What does matter though? He would have to sleep on it. A loud call from some beast from far behind him made him sigh in despair. He really didn’t want to deal with the fog. Hero placed a dried up cactus on the fire and it roared back to life. There were quite a few ashfall pricklers around where he had camped apparently. They are good for eating too. Hero could see the occupant of the other fire now. A smaller dragon then he sat attended it. From this distance, he couldn’t tell the exact breed though. He didn’t want to be rude, but it may also be rude not to, so he yelled over the distance, “Hello?” He didn’t feel like sleeping anyway. Villain sighed. At least the voice hadn’t been, “Stop there.” or “Turn out your pockets, now!” It was a mere greeting. It was one that he didn’t feel like replying too, but what else was there to do? Until the fog went away, he couldn’t exactly move his camp nor do anything less boring. “Yeah?” Villain replied at a volume he hoped would be loud enough to reach the stranger. He didn’t want to sleep in such an open area anyway. Villain looked up to the overcast to find at least one of the moons but couldn’t see them through the clouds. How disconcerting it is to not have any control. His senses were distorted by the darkness and the fog. That really made him think. It tested his faith in his own senses in other situations. He growled to abate the feeling. Nothing lasts, so why should he care about anything like doubt now? He couldn’t even tell what time it was. Hero settled a bit next to the fire’s warmth. The chill seemed to only be growing. If he had stayed home all those years ago, he wouldn’t have to huddle next to a fire on some bluff moping about his problems. He’d be talking with friends and family. He was a hero at one point and saved many people, but he wasn’t entirely sure now. Who knows how many of them would not be around without him? Perhaps he had gotten too close to the fire to step back. He probably would do it all again anyway. That was his way after all. Help the poor and downtrodden at a moment’s notice. He smiled for the first time genuinely in several weeks. “Anything interesting happen lately?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why, but that stranger put him at ease. Villain chuckled. If the dragon on the other end knew who he was, he’d probably run. He didn’t want to fight anymore. Not now at least. He wanted a nice nap by the fire. He felt like this dragon wouldn’t hurt a fly if given the choice anyway. “Sure, I’ve got a few.” Villain offered with a small smile. He would probably have to leave out the stories about pillaging. The way the strange said it made him happy to share. He’d probably never meet the dragon again anyway. Villain told his stories of travel and combat but left out the moments of reckless disregard for safety, run-ins with his nemesis, and theft and pillaging. When Villain had tired, Hero gave his stories of grandeur and accomplishment. He had only mentioned his newer travels before red light peeked over the horizon and the cold began to creep away with the fog. The fires had gone out and Villain collected his gear and slipped into the still extensive shadows. He quickly found his hideaway, but he found that the fog had destroyed most of his loot. He then decided at that moment that he might as well just head west. It was a while before Hero noticed the stranger’s disappearance. In the distance, however, he could see the dragon moving towards the sunrise. He stood up and followed. He knew that there was a series of caves ahead and they would make good camps. Perhaps they would meet again someday.

#flight rising #dragon

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