#i have her perfume her hoodie which i’ve just been holding onto and photos of us and it all hurts but brings me so much comfort

[explosionoftara]

uwu

[wftc141]

Blackwatch Chapter 9: The Everlasting Spark

8:20 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

November, 2018

Whenever he had free time, Genji would use that chance to meditate. Find a spare room in the Embassy and sit on the carpet floor to immerse himself away from the noise. He needed to pinpoint the very spot to be in the full state of calm. Silence was also vital and he was glad the rooms were also soundproof and privacy screens were provided.

During the previous months, Blackwatch had been dormant for some time and no missions were assigned. NATO had been managing their duties using their alternative and they've been making progress so far. So far, no new attacks were reported since the Null Sector siege in Rome.

Genji had been meditating for a long time as a way to cope in hopes of ensuring his past doesn't catch up to him. It was hard for him back then as a SAT officer after that defining moment years ago. Genji's eyes were shut, shrouded by the shadow of his hood. His breathing movement eased to follow the rhythm of his heartbeat. Genji tried to clear his mind of negative thoughts and painful memories pierced into his brain. Everything around him was dark and silence surrounded him, leaving him immersed in his own void. He felt alone. Shunned. Isolated to the point where the concept of humanity doesn't exist.

Suddenly, Genji heard a rumble from beside him and his eyes opened in a flash. He turned around and noticed his phone on the floor vibrating towards him. Lowering his breathing rate, Genji reached over to his phone and tapped the dial without checking the ID.

"Hello?" He answered

"Hey, Genji. It's me."

Genji's head perked up and he straightened up. He recognized that voice.

"Angela?" He said. Suddenly, his words were stuck in his throat. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking. Just wanted to let you know that I've just landed in Italy."

Genji cocked his head.

"You're in Rome?" He said.

"Yep," Angela replied. Genji could hear her smile through her voice. "Me and my team are getting stationed here with Fareeha's unit for a couple of weeks and since I'm not booked as of right now, I was wondering if we could have lunch together? I've found a nice place where we could grab some Italian cuisine."

Usually, Angela doesn't ask anybody out for lunch while on her days off, instead retreating to her office to have some overdue coffee and a paid meal to keep her up. Genji was one of the few people to witness it, apart from her other friends.

"Where's this coming from?" Genji asked.

"Oh it's just that we haven't seen each other in person for a while and I thought maybe we could do some catching up while we're at it."

Was it normal for good friends of the opposite sex to invite each other to have a meal together, Genji thought. Even as a former Yakuza, he never had any experience with dating women of his type and most were merely escorts for his fellow Yakuza. Friends were never in his dictionary and Angela happened to be the only female friend he had in his life thanks to her intervention and he owed her for it. Her sudden lunch proposal was definitely odd but it wasn't a bad thing.

"If you're busy, then we can try tomo-"

"I would be more than glad to join you today." Genji said.

"Excellent! How's 12 at noon?"

"I'll be there."

"Great! I'll send you the address later. Looking forward to seeing you, Genji!"

The call ended and left Genji back to his own silence. Genji simply sighed and as he got up, he wondered what to wear on his day out.

________________________________________

9:00 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Via Margutta

Another day has passed during Ray's time off and it has been tedious for most of the occasion. Ray stared at the ceiling of his bedroom with the pale light blocked off by the curtains. It has been two months since their last Blackwatch operation and there has been nothing new for them for quite some time. Everybody else was either out throwing a vacation or visiting friends. He wasn't the type to relax elsewhere since he was more set on working on the battlefield.

Ray missed the taste of beer after drinking with Marvel a few days before he left to see a friend of his in London. His mouth was dry and he had just woken up a few hours later than he usually does. Ray let out a grunt as he heaved himself out of the sheets and stepped onto the wooden floorboards, aiming for the bathroom.

Once inside, Ray turned his sink on and began brushing his teeth. After finishing up with his mouth, Ray splashed the cold water onto his face and rubbed his nose. The ice cold sensation felt nostalgic. Finishing up, Ray leaned onto the basin and glanced up at the mirror, facing his reflection. His reflection's eyes were dead straight into Ray's. Some drops of water streamed down the mirror, one sliding past his right eye.

Then the visions flashed before him. The sounds of gunfire and the looming closing of mortars and rockets. Sand and blood coating him as the screams of his teammates from afar and nearby filled his ears.

By the time the visions blinked away, Ray found himself breathing heavily and alone with the tap still running down the sink and the drops fading away.

________________________________________

11:40 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Before stepping towards the door, Genji took one last look at himself in the mirror. The scars that practically cover his face were in full view. The particular ones running across the bridge of his nose and his left eye were also exposed now that he ditched the hoodie in favor of a grey coat over his dress shirt. He checked his watch poking from his sleeve: 11:40. Should be enough time for Genji to find the address of the restaurant Angela sent him. Genji slipped on his shoes and left the apartment.

Now on the streets, Genji made his way through the walkway past the shops and cafes nearby. The leaves on the road slid and swept off as the cold breeze blew past him. As he reached the main road, Genji found himself getting looks from others. Most were either disgusted or intimidated by him because of his scars. He couldn't say he blamed them. Anyone would reel back from seeing Genji's scars in public and it wasn't a first for him. Genji paid no attention to the glares and continued his walk.

Shortly, he arrived at the restaurant near the river where the crowds flowed from left to right as well as the sight of the river in front. The restaurant itself felt like it was revisiting the past while also showing its own twist in the modern time. Genji went inside and looked around the crowded tables before noticing the distinct platinum blonde hair on the other side.

Genji approached the table where Angela was. She was still just as pretty as the last time they met in person. Angela's lean arms were laid crossed on the table near the menu which she hasn't opened yet. Her coat was draped behind her over the chair. The blue shirt she was wearing tucked into her skinny jeans goes well with her, if not, makes her look professional.

Once Genji closed in on her table, Angela's corner of her eye caught him and her smile grew as she stood up from her chair to approach him. Genji couldn't help but smile too after noticing hers.

"Genji! So glad to see you!" Angela said as she pulled Genji into a hug.

"You too, Angela," he replied, returning her hug. The scent of perfume filled his nostrils. "Thanks for inviting me."

The two broke off the hug and both looked up at each other. Genji noticed something different about Angela's hair.

"I see you've cut your hair." He said.

"Yes, I did," Angela replied, touching the ends of her shortened hair. Her side bangs swept to her right eye were kept. "Figured I wanted to go for something fresh and practical. You like it?"

"It fits you."

Her smile remained as she fiddled with the locks. "Thanks."

Genji wasn't aware he was staring at her for quite some time before the two realized they were still standing and took their seats hastily. To be precise, Genji wasn't the only one staring.

"Anyways," Angela said as she sat down. Genji removed his coat and hung it behind his chair. "I haven't ordered anything yet apart from some coffee since I haven't had my morning caffeine today and I wanted to wait for you before we figure out what we wanna eat."

"That's really considerate of you. I appreciate that." Genji replied.

"You're welcome. Speaking of consideration," Angela handed him a second menu, similar to the one she was reading from. "I hear this place has some really delicious food."

Genji opened the leather folder and inside were the list of foods with photos beside it and quite a list. There was also an English translation next to the Italian words. Glancing up from the menu, Genji looked at Angela as she continued on about Italian cuisine before chuckling mid-sentence over a bad joke she made.

There was something sweet about the way Angela laughed, especially whenever she made jokes that normal people wouldn't laugh except for Genji. Her angelic-like presence and the way she expressed herself would turn Genji into a different person. A normal person.

Maybe it was because he owed her for saving him from his death that day.

________________________________________

11:52 AM, Local Time

Paris, France

The sound of leaves rustling from above to the wind and the fountain splashing into the river fill the uninterrupted silence.

Amélie Lacroix watched over the river floating to the side as streams of water from the fountain tap clashed with the quintess river pelted with dry leaves. The air was cold so she opted for a wool cashmere coat over her black turtleneck with a skirt and boots accompanied by tights and sunglasses and leather gloves as final touches.

She watched as a handful of couples from a distance passed her eyes, holding hands and talking among each other. She missed the feeling of a warm hand and the steps they took in every walk. Amélie couldn't forget her memories with Gérard Lacroix, her late husband.

He was killed here two years ago in a bombing attack at the facility that used to be Blackwatch's headquarters where he was stationed while Amélie was on a mission. Every year, she would come to Paris to see his burial grave and visit this very park where she found her purpose. The place where she and Gérard met as an assassin.

"I knew I would find you here."

Amélie turned to her left where the voice came from and noticed Gabriel approaching her before stopping a few feet away from her. Like her, he was in winter clothes with a puffer coat over his sport fleece zipped up to his neck and a beanie to brace the cold. Amélie didn't react and looked away from Gabriel.

"You're here because we have a job?" Amélie asked.

Gabriel shook his head. "Just checking in to see how you were doing because of what today is. Mind if I sit with you?"

"I don't see why I should."

Gabriel reached the bench and sat beside Amélie. He let out an exhale and icy air puffed out from his mouth.

"And here I thought you would be in LA to talk things out with your family." Amélie guessed.

Gabriel scoffed. "No, it's a waste of energy."

"How are the others?"

Gabriel slumped back onto the bench, sighing. Another cloud of air streamed out of his lips. "Far as I know, they're doing alright. Genji, Moira and Ray are still in Rome with Jack, Marvel just left for London to see a pilot friend of his, Fio's in the Bahamas, Sombra and McCree… I have no idea where those two are."

Amélie said nothing and looked ahead. Gabriel glanced at her before looking away. Even when her sunglasses conceal her emotion, Gabriel could tell that she was still in mourning.

"Still thinking about Gérard?" He said without looking at her.

Amélie's silence and her frown answered Gabriel's question.

"I miss him too," Gabriel's eyes fell onto the ground. "He was a good friend of mine. And a damn good leader too."

Amélie's willingful commitment to staying silent was telling Gabriel everything she couldn't tell him with her words.

"You know what happened to Gérard wasn't your fault, right?" He said. "I don't understand why you keep carrying that weight around."

A pause filled their gap. Shortly, Amélie lifted her hand to remove her sunglasses. Gabriel took one look at her eyes and he recognized it immediately. It was the eyes of sorrow and guilt.

"I brought him into my life and he died because of what I was," Amélie said, softly. "I could've said that I was a ballet dancer or just… never met him. Gérard would've still been alive if it wasn't for me."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Gabriel said firmly as he faced Amélie. His eyes were showing anger but not at her. "You didn't kill Gérard; Antonio Bartalotti did. We lost our staff to the bombing thanks to that bastard and he's out there as an innocent man, running his business while smuggling weapons and terrorists across Europe under our noses. And because of his connections with the government, we can't go after him."

"You know I find the idea of revenge pointless."

"I don't see why when he's the one who killed your husband."

"And I know killing him won't bring him back," Amélie fired back. "The second I kill Antonio, my husband is still dead. The only person who saw me as a human being rather than a killing machine is gone. Nothing will change that."

Gabriel went silent. Amélie was right and he knew it. She never felt the desire of remorse when she learned of who killed her husband. She only felt guilt and thought this was her past catching up to her, refusing to let her go. The concept of someone going after the person who killed their loved ones felt unsatisfying, let alone useless. Gabriel sighed in defeat and leaned forward.

"Amélie, I'm just asking you to stop beating yourself up," Gabriel said. "You gotta stop carrying that burden of yours, otherwise it's gonna manifest into something you can't control and the effect isn't gonna be pretty. I've seen it before and it's been haunting me ever since."

Amélie didn't respond but Gabriel could see her understanding his point silently. Gabriel looked away from her and faced forward. The two didn't speak for a while and watched over the park as people continued to pass by their sight.

"I can see why you like this park." Gabriel said.

Amélie nodded without glancing back at him. Silence. Gabriel took his beanie off to scratch his scalp. The cold wind blew at his head as the warmth from the beanie dissolved.

"Gabe?"

Gabriel heard Amélie call his name as he put his beanie on and glanced at her. Although she was still staring forward, a faint smile grew from her face.

"Thanks. For that pep talk." She said.

Gabriel simply smiled and looked away.

"You're welcome." Gabriel replied.

The two stayed seated and basked in the cold yet bright sunlight, overlooking the breeze over the winter trees below.

________________________________________

12:15 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

It has been a while since they received the food they've ordered and so far, Genji's lunch with Angela has been eventful and enjoyable. The two have been talking for a while and it was clear they get each other. Angela would talk about work and often add in some personal moments outside of work, such as her strange encounter at a cafe while on a coffee run with her Chinese nurse friend.

Genji would sometimes laugh at the unfortunate moments and feel bad at the same time but those were the moments where he would get the chance to smile and act like a normal person, especially with someone he felt comfortable with.

Then, Angela would get into the serious and sensitive parts about her job as a field doctor handling heavily wounded patients and balancing some sense of levity, especially about the air strikes the US keeps sending in. Angela herself wasn't into the nature of war as much as any normal person was, considering she was a pacifist and most of the time, she could get critical about how President Trump and his office handled the war.

She would often apologise for going too much in depth about her job and Genji would assure her he was fine. He always appreciated how concerned she felt whenever she believed she stepped out of the line when talking about her job.

"Anyways," Angela said, after finishing her story about a patient hit by an air strike. She rested her crossed arms on the table after twirling the locks of her hair, leaning in front of the table. "We're getting shipped off in a few weeks. Don't know where but it's probably gonna be in another war-torn country. On the bright side, Dr. Winston Hayward is joining the team."

Genji's head perked up after hearing a familiar name.

"Winston Hayward? You mean the scientist who used to work for DARPA? I never thought he would get involved in humanitarian work."

Angela nodded. "It was a surprise for me too. He served as a medic in the army before DARPA picked him up. He was interested in my work for a while and offered the team a helping hand."

Genji nodded as he took a sip from his glass of water.

"How about you, Genji?" Angela asked. "How's work going for you?"

Genji's smile faltered. He wasn't sure how to answer that. He told her he was working for NATO but he didn't tell her he was working as a covert operative taking part in possibly illegal missions. Genji wasn't sure how she would feel if he told her he maimed a crime lord with his own karambit. He set his glass on the table and sighed, looking away from her.

"I'm alright," Genji said. "There were good days and bad days."

Angela didn't prod him any further about his work. Part of Genji was thankful but the other half lamented that he couldn't confide in her about what he really does. Angela then noticed a few people staring at Genji, with some whispering to each other. She was quick to pick up on the fact that they were staring at him because of the scars on his face. Genji was also trying his best to ignore the judging looks. Angela couldn't help but feel pity for him.

"I-I'm sorry, Genji. I should have picked a more private place." She said softly, feeling guilty.

"It's okay," he assured. "I feel more comfortable showing my face like this when I'm with you because...you don't see me as a monster like others do."

"That's because you're not. I know it's difficult but the scars you have does not define who you are."

"I know. But what happened still haunts me to this day. I can't outrun it."

Angela looked at him, recognizing that look and the voice. The same as the one he had when he was in the middle of recovery.

"Are the nightmares coming back?" She asked.

Genji looked up at Angela, who gave him an assuring look. He took a deep sigh as he held his hands.

"Every time I look in the mirror," Genji said. "I see my brother instead of myself. Every time I try to sleep, I see the Shimada elders order my brother to kill me. Every night, I would wake up, drenched in cold sweat and I would sit on the floor in the dark making sure the clan doesn't go after me because of what I've become."

"Are you still meditating?" Angela asked.

A weak nod came from Genji. "Always, but it's not enough to push those nightmares back. I couldn't remember how long I fought but I remember every cut my brother gave all over me and every hit I made until my limbs gave up. I still remember how it felt too."

Genji wasn't aware his hands were balled into trembling fists. This wasn't the first time he told Angela about his condition but any time he talked about, it would trigger the trauma in his mental state. Then, Genji felt contact with one of his fists. He glanced up and noticed Angela's hand holding his right fist and the shaking stopped.

"I know how painful it is to carry that trauma for a long time, Genji," she said. "I understand how you feel. I carried a lot of pain when I was a kid and it was agonizing for me to face the reality. But I made it through and I want to help people like me. That's why I became a doctor for a reason."

Genji's fists began to unroll and laid flat on the table as Angela's hands held his.

"I know you'll make it through this, Genji. I've been with you for a long time to know that you're strong. But if you ever need help and you can't find someone you feel comfortable with, I'm here for you and I'll help you in any way possible."

Genji looked up at her. Her soothing voice bordered on the lines of angelic. Genji felt a sense of relief and calm being able to talk out his deep issues with his first and close friend. He smiled in return of her assuring words.

"I'll keep that in mind," Genji softly said, looking back at his hands. "Thanks."

"You're more than welcome." Angela replied, smiling back.

The two didn't move for a brief moment as the idle chatter around them drowned out their thoughts. Genji then looked down to his plate and noticed something.

"You know," he said. "We've been talking for quite a while and not once have we touched our food."

Angela blinked before looking down and realizing what he meant.

"Oh my, you're right about that." She said.

Genji couldn't help but chuckle. "Didn't expect that we would talk more than we've eaten."

They both laughed, easing any sense of tension between one another before they got back to eating their meal. They still talked as much as they ate but they drifted towards a more lighthearted path. Angela still had more tales to tell and Genji's smile never faltered since then.

________________________________________

12:46 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

Jack Morrison took a sip of his coffee as he read over the mission reports from Blackwatch as well as the dossiers of their operatives. He had just finished reading Genji's dossier and moved on to Ray's. Some of the operatives' backgrounds involved their former lives as career criminals before getting hired by NATO. Others were former military and conducted significant operations early on. Jack didn't expect Gabriel to even consider hiring criminals to work under his hand. Not that he ever played by the rules.

A sudden knock from his office door cut through his thoughts.

"Come in." Jack said.

He heard the door open and footsteps follow through. Jack looked up from the dossiers and noticed it was the team leader of the Valorant Protocol, Brimstone. His Valorant tag hung in front of his sky blue shirt hugging his shoulders. His right hand was also holding a Manila folder.

Jack set the files aside and drank his coffee. "I take it Chechnya was a success?"

Brimstone placed the folder next to Jack's among the pile. "Like a walk in the park. No one suspected we were there, no bodies were dropped and the CIA have the American terrorist in their custody."

Jack grunted in approval as he placed his mug on the desk. "Good job as always, Brimstone. Get you and your team some rest. You all deserve it."

With that said, Jack went back to continuing his reading on Ray's dossier. As he read the file, the footsteps in front of him stopped.

"I got something to ask, Jack," Brimstone said. "Do you trust Blackwatch?"

Jack stopped reading. He knew there was going to be a time where Brimstone would inquire about Blackwatch. Brimstone was not just the team leader - he co-founded this unit with Jack and he was well aware of Blackwatch's existence for a while. Sighing, the commander set his hands on the desk, interlocking his fingers.

"Yes. I do. But the thing is… I believe Blackwatch should not be operational anymore."

"Why's that?" Brimstone asked.

"The world is changing and trustworthy allies are the key to stabilizing a nation. We're making significant progress for NATO and the UN with the Valorant Protocol and we've managed to earn trust from other countries. Blackwatch however… could be a compromise to our goal."

"So we're their replacement?"

"Precisely. The higher ups may need Blackwatch but I want to prove to them that it should be shut down. We've been solving most of NATO and the UN's problems diplomatically and I don't want a black ops kill unit ruining our chances in bringing peace to all nations if they can't trust us."

Brimstone had nothing else to say about Blackwatch and turned away for the door. As he heard the door close, Jack looked back down to the files before going for another sip of his black coffee. Truth be, as much as he believed in Blackwatch's cause, Jack found their methods risky and the risks they make would only drive other countries apart should they ever find out about what they've been doing. He could only hope for Gabriel to understand that but it would take a miracle to convince him.

________________________________________ 

11:00 PM, Local Time

Zambia

The convoy of trucks drove through the terrain over the tracks engraved between the trees. The headlights shone down the road as the only light source in the desolate forest of Zambia. A Talon strike team was deployed into the country to meet a potential partner for their organization. For air support, an Mi-24 Hind was sent in to accompany them as their eyes in the skies.

Inside the trucks stamped with the signature 'T' insignia on the side, Talon soldiers glued to the seats bobbed up and down as the truck went through uneven terrain. They were all sporting Talon-issued uniforms under their plate carriers and pads covering most of their vital areas, as well as M50 gas masks fitted under their helmets with NODs attached.

Everybody else wore the same masks except for Captain Cuerva, the strike team's commanding officer in the leading truck. Apart from his uniform and gear, he had a red beret bearing the 'T' flash and a jet black neck gaiter. He was as merciless as people say and a force to be reckoned with whenever he led his team during his missions, especially with Mauga, the squad's titan. This was also a rare occasion for Cuerva to get in the field to personally oversee the operation whenever there were complications.

Shortly, the trucks arrived at the riverside village where the gate was guarded by AK47-wielding militants. Because they were expecting them, the militants opened the gate and silently let the trucks in while the Hind hovered above them. As the trucks drove down the path, they were met with glares from several militants from outposts and on the sidewalk. Most of the locals were nowhere to be seen with empty markets and shops.

Once the trucks reached the plaza next to the main hut, the trucks came to a complete stop and shortly, Talon soldiers hopped out one by one and landed on the pale mud. There, the soldiers gathered into their positions and faced the militants while several turned to the hut where their partner would be in. Mauga stood in front of his men, knowing his size and weapon would ensure support and maximum damage. Cuerva was the last to get out and without a word, he headed up the stairs leading to the hut and signaled for both Mazzei and Doubleday to escort him.

As he ignored the condescending glares from the militants, Cuerva and his men went inside and found the office of the militant's leader. Inside the office accompanied by a straw backdrop, the successor of the Macaba militia Kwame Macaba glared at the Captain, knowing who he was. His guards watched with caution running in their eyes as Cuerva stood by the doorway with his escorts. Their begrudging glares reflected onto the unnerving visors of their gas masks. Cuerva paid no attention to them and sat down on the couch across Kwame's before pulling down his neck gaiter.

"Sorry for the sudden visit, Mr. Macaba," Cuerva said. "I understand that you're still dealing with the loss of your brothers but we have a proposal that you may find beneficial to your operations."

Cuerva stared at the man of Talon's interest. Youngest brother of the family, forced to take control of the militia after the death of his brothers a few months back. Knowing him, his family would be hiding upstairs.

"Our leader received a call from you saying that you do not wish to be part of our cause or accept our money that we offered you." Cuerva continued.

"We will not be accepting your blood money or an alliance with you." Kwame growled.

Cuerva chuckled. "Seems like we haven't convinced you well enough. First off, we're not here to negotiate money. We're more than that. Consider us partners looking to help spread your influence across Africa and strengthen your army because you will need it."

"You best leave now if you know what's good for you."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen. And you might as well watch what you say or there will be consequences for you and your family. Wouldn't want to end up like your brothers, yes?"

Tensions were raised. Kwame's hand clenched into a fist as he glared at Cuerva, clearly taking offence to what he said. Mazzei and Doubleday remained cautious as they eyed the militants, knowing they could open fire at any minute. A smirk curved from the corner of his lip.

"I've read that your brothers were killed trying to take control of Africa and the first thing they did was going after the people running the country," Cuerva said. "That was a bold and ambitious move - a naive one if you get my gist."

Kwame was itching to lunge at him at any moment but he would've done so by now if it weren't for the Talon soldiers watching him.

"And I also found it funny about how your brothers died. Dede Macaba went out of his way to use a child as a bargaining chip before the military shot him dead. I mean, talk about being a 'warrior' who'd rather die a coward than fight as a man. And Arno? Let's just say he failed before he even started."

Kwame gritted his teeth as his fists shook and Cuerva was more than glad to see his face contort into hate.

"You dare speak ill of my family's sacrifices?!" Kwame hissed.

"Oh I dare because I'm the one holding you and your people's lives in my hands," Cuerva said smugly. "I'm just trying to negotiate peacefully here and you're making this very difficult. All Talon wants is an alliance with you and your militia. You see, we believe humanity can only evolve through everlasting conflict. We're gathering organisations who are willing to contribute in making sure the human race grows stronger through war and terror."

Kwame's expression doesn't change, still glaring at the Captain.

"Talon can make you the most powerful man in Africa," Cuerva continued. "We'll provide your militia with better weapons, gear, training and materials for your operations. We can give you all of that with just a flick of a pen and with all the funding from us, you could achieve everything your brothers had been longing for. All you have to do is shake my hand and we can cut you a deal."

Cuerva then outstretched his hand to Kwame. Without a second thought, Kwame smacked it away as if it was a fly. Cuerva was unfazed by his rude gesture.

"The reason why I refused in the first place was because you and Talon are not soldiers, not warriors… you are terrorists who kill for money and sport. My people will never be part of that."

Cuerva stared at him for a moment before sighing and leaning back.

"Very well then," He then reached for his comms. "Negotiations failed. Prepare to clean house."

Shortly, gunfire erupted from outside surprising Kwame and his guards. Talon soldiers posted outside were under orders from HQ to kill the militia whenever the negotiation didn't work out. Kwame was quick to realize what Cuerva ordered and attempted to reach for his holster. Cuerva beat him to it and he shot the leader in the head before he could even touch the gun. Blood sprayed onto the floor and as soon as Kwame went limp, Mazzei and Doubleday took out the guards with ease and smooth synchronization.

Glancing at the stream of smoke oozing from the suppressor, Cuervo got up from the couch and approached Kwame's body. He stared at the dead leader with eyes of disappointment.

"Such a shame, Mr. Macaba," Cuerva said. "We would've had potential working together. Oh well, only fools would go for someone who's useless."

Cuerva then turned away to the doorway.

"Take care of the family." He ordered as he walked off.

"Yes, sir." Both Mazzei and Doubleday complied.

The two went past Cuerva and headed the opposite direction of him to find the rest of Kwame's family, checking their mags as they moved out. As the heavy footsteps faded out, Cuerva walked down the corridor and for the front entrance.

"Akuma 1, you are cleared hot," Cuerva said. "Send those bastards a message."

The sounds of the MG outside raining down from above accompanied the melody of the gunfire below. Walking out of the hut, Cuerva watched as his men moved from several spots in the dark hunting down the militants.

He already noticed several bodies of the militants in front of him as well as several buildings and markets left on fire. The rockets from the chopper then hit the village with immense velocity and obliterated almost everything in sight to ensure no survivors while also avoiding Cuerva's smell of burnt wood and straws filled his nostrils as he watched the flames light up the dark sky and burning wood melt into the river. Screams from afar filled the air of silence, drowned by the gunfire slowly catching up to them.

The Captain simply pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lit it with a match and watched the village burn to the ground. The embers before him sparked brighter like fireworks, making Talon's mark on their steps to the glory of never-ending conflict.

[afarcryfromfine-blog]

Chapter Three: “Are you my Mom-Friend?”

Word Count:1,492

Warnings: 

In the end, I couldn't just call him. I felt too odd. I sat there staring at the computer screen just willing myself to tap that stupid pad. I decided that I'd go to my cell phone company tomorrow and add on international texting. I'd find some way to afford it.

I'd managed to do a repeat of the night before. But this time I had a hangover on top of it all. Staring at the computer made me depressed last night. I wanted so badly to see him and be in Korea again. But we were an ocean apart. It would have been too hard to hear his voice or see his face, knowing he was so far. I'd had a full bottle of wine to myself. I sat there in my PJs, flipping through old photos of him and I together; my laptop open to the side just waiting for me to hit the green button. It shouldn't be this hard. At least what I had told myself over and over again. I totally missed my study group because I'd gotten so lost in loose photos of my Korea memories. I'm sure I'd regret that come midterms. So now here I am. Standing in line in a not so grand part of town at Sprint. I wore flip-flops with long loose-fitting jogging pants and an oversized hoodie. My purse was strung over my shoulder and across my chest. My hair was in an impressive mound on top of my head with strands sticking out everywhere. Kind of mimicking a sea urchin in the water. But they look cool, me- not so much. The line seemed to be going slower than a snail's pace. I was becoming impatient. Something that, granted- was a pretty common occurrence. But between a screaming child that was demanding she wanted to leave, to the woman in front of me who I swear to you, took a bath in perfume- my hangover- well, wanted to hang me. My head was throbbing from the noise, the lights, and the walking perfume bottle. I nearly ran over a child when I heard a sales representative to my left say he could help someone. Get the fuck out of my way, was my only thought. I had been here for forty-five minutes. I needed to get moving. Slamming into the counter a little more aggressively than planned because someone's loose minion was in my way and I nearly busted the kid in the face with my knee. Not on purpose, I assure you. So it was more of a landed trip, than slamming into the counter. He gave me a weak smile. "What can I do for you today, Miss?" I smiled as best as I could, "I need to add international texting and calling to my line, please." He nodded and gathered information, confirming my name, address and account PIN number. It only took about 15 minutes for everything to be 100% set up and verified. I learned that I'd be paying about $20.00 more a month for this, which shocked me. I would have thought It'd have been at least $50.00. Not that I'm complaining. As I turned to leave, the child that'd I'd nearly bashed in the face- his mother was glaring at me. I ignored her. Not my fault you have a child who wants to run around and get into shit. Or the fact you don't care to actually watch him. Now, I realize these things make me sound like an awful human being, and I assure you I love children; and can't wait to have my own. But all in due time. Finally, I made it onto the crowded sidewalk and headed back to my apartment. I opened my contacts and tapped the number that'd been testing my sanity. 

To: +82-555-0011-1234 I'd like to offer $5.00 ransom for the green sock, you're holding captive.

Send. If he didn't get that- I was going to have to smack him next time I saw him. After hitting send I realized that it was 4 am by him right now. Whoops. But knowing him, he's snoring with no fucks to be given, drool dripping down one cheek and his hair in a worse state than mine could ever be in. As I droned mindlessly back to my apartment- my phone vibrated. 

From: +82-555-0011-1234 And if I refuse...?

I laughed and stopped in my tracks to reply. Yes, don't judge me. I can't text and walk, I'm not quite that magical. Yet. I quickly tapped back-

To: +82-555-0011-1234 You Feind!

I resumed walking hearing people grumble, I assume because I'd come to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Sorry man, would you rather I walk into you with your fancy business suit and make you spill your coffee because I was trying to multitask, where I can not? Wait..

To: +82-555-0011-1234 Excuse me- What exactly are you doing awake...?

Yes, I double texted, sue me. I have no fear! The rest of my walk home my phone remained quiet. Maybe he'd woke up to use the bathroom or something and fell back asleep...? I rummaged through my purse coming near the steps. "Common, where are my keys-!" I was grumbling to myself so dead set on finding them, I hadn't noticed someone coming out of the main door. I slammed into them. "Ah-! I'm so sorry!" I looked up, "Oh. Just you." I said monotone. The person just glared back, "Excuse me, Bitch?" they snapped back. Silence passed between us, and we both started laughing. "Girl, you look like shit, what the Hell happened to you...?" she said eyeing my homeless style. "Ohh, you know. Boys, lack of sleep, working overtime." I nodded it off like it was so simple. But she knew. "Honey, at least take a shower!" she said pinching her nose and waving her hand in front of her face. "You smell like you had sex in a bottle of perfume." I busted up laughing, "So sweaty and 100 gallons of old lady musk?" I questioned, she nodded, fanning still. "Stop that!" I laughed, "Some old lady at Sprint bathed in the shit- I didn't think I smelled like it though." I said smelling my hoodie. Mistake. "Good Jesus, Maybe that's why people were grumbling as they passed me," I said feeling my eyes water, and nose hairs curl. In case you're lost- this is a normal conversation between my best friend and I. Harley. She's a Phycology Major at the same college as me, and also my study buddy. Ohhh... "Ahh, sorry about missing the study group last night. I found myself trapped at the bottom of a wine bottle, buried in old memories." She only looked at me, studying me. "That explains the bags..." she said pointing at her own under eye. "I look pretty rough, don't I?" I said pitifully. She only nodded, with a look of 'get yourself together'. We mother each other constantly. I think that the only reason we're actually able to survive college life. We are each other's, mothers. "Did you lose your keys again..?" she asked, seeing I was elbow deep in my purse, still not grabbing hold of my Anime themed lanyard. "Potentially..." I mused quizzically. That earned a laugh. "I've got your spare, hang on." she opened her purse and dug into her wallet, yanking out a dingy silver key. "Ahh, you blessed angel," I said opening my arms for a hug; to which she abruptly stopped me. "Shower, then we can hug." I chuckled and nodded. "Fair enough." Finally, in my apartment, I realized how absolutely messy it was. Company always makes you aware of these things. Now I get why my mom always rushed around after learning we'd be having guests. Completely get it now. Sorry, Mom. "Jesus Christ Katrina!" she scolded as she passed the threshold. "Yes mother, I'll clean today." I waved her off. "No ma'am, now. This place looks like a landfill, and smells like one too!" she said squishing up her face in disgust. I whined but understood. "You get the living-bedroom and I've got the kitchen. And do I even want to look at your bathroom...?" she said looking slightly queasy. "Shockingly, I'll have you know- it's rather clean," I said happy with myself. "Because you haven't showered in a month I bet!" she basically screamed. I gave her my best-offended face, "Two weeks and one day I'll have you know," I looked away, "thank you very much." Not helping my case. "Kat, why didn't you just move into the dorms like everyone else, you pay the same here as you would there," she questioned me as she picked up empty Ramen cups and threw them in the garbage. "We've been over this," I warned, she only shook her head and urged me to actually clean. To which I obviously protested. But she won.

[lawchan89]

Not Supposed To Be Here

Finally I got around to writing a post-finale Starco piece. Hope you enjoy!

Rescue me

Show me who I am

‘Cause I can’t believe

This is how the story ends…

Her eyes flew open for what felt like the millionth time that night, and the trillionth time that month. Each time the pit of dread settled in her stomach sooner than before, the reason she hadn’t slept well and might never again. She just wanted to cry it out whenever the time arose. But more often than not, she just couldn’t. Her heart ached terribly, her insides were numb, and yet the sorrow just wouldn’t unleash when she wanted it to.

Star flung the covers aside and stumbled out of bed towards the door. She couldn’t stay there. Everything in that bedroom reminded her of her mother, and not just the framed photos on the desk or the digital ones in her phone. The dresses hanging in her wardrobe were handpicked by her, the cool breeze from the window wrapped around Star like her mother’s embrace, even the very air she breathed was the unmistakable aroma of Moon’s perfume.

The rumor was that the High Commission planned to declare her officially deceased, but Star and her father refused to believe it. Especially Star, who swung herself down staircase after staircase, twisting around several corridors, unsure of where exactly her frenzied feet were taking her and not really caring.

She was there. She was right there. If I hadn’t been so stupid, I could’ve gotten her out of the Magic Realm.

It played over and over in her head like a broken record, the needle skipping every time her feet slapped against the floor. Why didn’t I plan it well enough? Why didn’t I know I would outsmart myself? Why was I so stupid?!

With an agonized grunt, Star rammed her elbow against a heavy oak door and forced herself inside. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but her insides turned to ice the second the massive tapestries rose before her. The “Grandma Room”. Her very earliest memories were of this room, nestled against her mother’s breast as the queen glided along the wall, pointing to the pictures of the towering women and whispering words the baby princess could not understand. Now that same princess understood far too much, and at the same time felt like she still knew nothing at all.

She found the one she was looking for, hidden in shadow and covered in dust and cobwebs. Eclipsa, Queen of Darkness read her slab, and Star marched over to it. Had she completely lost all sense of reason, she would have torn the old drapery clean off the wall, respect and tradition be damned. She hadn’t lost it. But she was getting close.

“So you just took off?” Her voice was weak, trembling and strained, and yet it echoed so uncomfortably in the empty domed room. “You got what you wanted, so you just...left? You couldn’t stick around to help me? If it wasn’t for me and my mom, you’d be dead.”

Knowing full well she was not getting an answer, Star ranted on to the steely face with crimson spade emblems in the tapestry. “I get it, your family means a lot to you. You got your second chance. But...what about me?” It wasn’t a question Star asked often, and it sounded so foreign on her tongue. So forbidden, as if she was not allowed to think such things. “I did a lot for you, Eclipsa. I—I’ve done a lot for a lotta people. But this time, I need something.”

She swallowed hard, sinking to her knees in fatigue from running through the castle half asleep. The cold grey eyes staring down at her still held no response. “My mom is gone. She might be gone gone. I know I keep telling everyone she isn’t, but what the heck do I know? I’m just acting queen, no big deal, right?” Her bottom lip quivered, and she chomped down on it with her teeth stubbornly. “My magic’s gone. Not totally, but it’s really weak. I don’t even have enough power to go back to the Magic Realm to look for her. All my dreams are just me losing Mom over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore!”

Her fists slammed against the marble floor, pressing her forehead to the harsh cold surface as she crumpled further to the ground. When next she spoke, it was in a voice choked with tears. “I gave you my Wand ‘cause it should be yours. But right now...I’m the one who needs it most. I need my mom, Eclipsa. My family means everything to me, too.”

Curling her legs up to her chest, Star rolled onto her side and buried her face in her knees. Gentle hopeless sobs shuddered through her, echoing softly in the stillness as she resigned herself to the fact that maybe Queen Moon really was never coming back. And maybe she was now the rightful Queen of Mewni. Just the thought of it was enough to make her break down further, copious tears flowing into her light gold hair as she hugged herself tightly.

It wasn’t right, the fact that they were all looking to her to make these big decisions. She was just a kid. Star couldn’t decide the fate of Mewni. Heck, Star couldn’t even decide which boy she liked.

A slight shuffling of feet was the first thing that caught her attention the moment there was a break in her weeping. Sitting up suddenly, she shoved her hair out of her eyes, blinking in the moonlight glowing gently from the overhead skylight. She expected it might be her father, coming to spend some time with his wife’s tapestry, as that was currently all he had left of her. She didn’t expect the person it actually was. Although in retrospect, she should have. Somehow he always managed to turn up at times like this.

“What are you doing here?” Star asked him, struggling through her hitched breaths.

Marco blinked over at her, having settled himself on the floor next to her with his back against the wall. “I...kinda live here now, remember?”

“You know what I mean, Marco. Why are you in here?”

“‘Cause I heard you talking to yourself,” he admitted, his fingers fiddling idly with the zipper on his hoodie.

“I was talking to Eclipsa,” Star insisted.

“Eclipsa’s not here, Star.”

“Well, she’s somewhere,” the princess went on indignantly, swiping roughly at her cheeks as if she were embarrassed about shedding tears in front of Marco. Which was dumb; he had seen her like this before.

“Star,” Marco sighed patiently, “she isn’t here. No one knows where she is. But there’s people you can turn to who are here.”

“Go back to bed,” she ordered her intruder in a sullen tone.

“I’m not leaving you.” 

Sweet Mewni. Why did hearing that tender nasally voice make her believe, even for an instant, that everything was going to be alright? Whatever strange magic it weaved, it seemed to instantly dissolve her rigid front. She hated it, but also couldn’t deny that it felt better to just open herself up.

“I want my mom,” Star muttered through quivering lips, feeling like she was five years old again. “But I botched it up, and now she’s gone forever.”

“Don’t say that, we’ll find her,” he soothed, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to her. Star’s blue eyes shone like orbs, her eyelashes dewed with crystal tears, and her face red and swollen. Marco’s heart ached — he would move every one of the countless dimensions in the cosmos if it meant she would never suffer like this again.

“You can’t make this one better, Marco.” She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes as she felt another fresh bout of tears come on. “I know you’re trying to help, but we lost this one.” She paused, sniffling loudly. “We lose a lot, don’t we?”

“We don’t always come out on top, that’s for sure,” Marco replied, taking one of her hands in his and hanging on firmly.

“You know...even though Mom was gone, I felt like I could still keep fighting as long as I had you.” Star ran her free hand through her hair and gripped at her scalp, her face crumbling as the tears poured once more. “But I lost you, too.”

“I’m here — I’m right here.” Wrapping his arms around her shuddering frame, Marco held her as closely and tightly as he could, sharing in her pain and grief the only way he knew how.

“Don’t do that again, Marco, just — just don’t leave me, okay?” Curling deeper into his embrace, Star latched onto him and dug her nails into the back of his shirt. Wailing punctured sobs ripped through her, each lifting another weight off her chest and unfurling another knot in her stomach.

“I won’t,” Marco whispered, beginning to rock her in place as he smoothed her hair down. “Just let it out,” he coaxed, hiding his own tears in her hair. “Let it all out, I’ve got you.” All he could do was hold her. She needed this catharsis desperately. She just needed to talk and scream and cry, and he just needed to listen.

“This is why.”

“What?” Star whimpered, raising her head to meet his glimmering brown eyes.

“You asked me why I was here,” Marco clarified. “I’m here to be that person you can always turn to. When things like this happen, I want you to know you never have to face it alone.” Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from her damp eyes. “It’s okay. I’ll be the strong one this time if you don’t want to.”

For one brief insane moment, Star wanted to kiss him. But no — that was sleep-deprived, overly emotional Star thinking that, and she squashed her down quickly. Instead she merely fell back against his chest and grabbed onto him like he would float away if she let him go. He quite literally almost had.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed,” Marco said, helping her to her feet, which proved difficult when she hung onto his waist so fiercely. “We’ll talk about what we’re gonna do to find your mom in the morning.”

“How?” Star asked as he walked her back out into the corridor, the dense door booming closed behind them. “Marco, I’m totally useless. Most of my magic is gone after the fight with Meteora, and Eclipsa has the Wand now. I couldn’t be Queen of the Dumpster Garbage, let alone Mewni.” She shivered, her head resting on his shoulder as cold tears splattered the front of his hoodie. “I have no idea what’s gonna happen now. And Mom…”

She’s not supposed to be here. And neither are you.

What in the name of corn did that mean, Moon wasn’t supposed to be there? So where was she supposed to be? Not with her kingdom, nor with her husband and daughter apparently. Maybe not even in the world of the living altogether.

“You’re not useless,” Marco’s warm tone broke through her thoughts, pulling her a bit closer as they trekked slowly up the winding stairs. “You did what you had to do to save your people. You had to make a difficult decision, putting the needs of your kingdom before yourself. Isn’t that what a queen does?”

He looked down at her for any sort of response. But she just cried silently, hugging him like a living breathing stuffed animal while her eyes dripped large tears, puncturing the stillness when they hit the marble at their trudging feet. Marco bit his lip, realizing tonight wasn’t the night for a pep talk, but just a night to let her know he was there, and was always going to be no matter what.

Star was weak, and that scared her more than anything else. She had never felt weak in her life, as long as magic flowed through her veins and a wand was in her hand. Now that she had neither, she felt naked and completely vulnerable to whatever was coming next. She needed her friends, her family, and especially her mother.

But most of all, she needed Marco.

And yet…

“Marco,” Star sighed out, once they reached the stair landing that led to her bed chambers. “I want you to go see your parents.”

Marco blinked. This conversation had taken a surprising turn. “Uh, wh-what?”

“I know your mom’s due any day now. You’re getting a new baby brother.” She pulled away from him, still hanging onto his hands. “Please don’t let me and my problems get in the way of that. You should be happy.”

“Star, your problems are my problems. I care about you just as much as I care about my family.” Maybe even more, his thoughts concluded, but he sure wasn’t going to say that out loud.

“I know, Marco,” she whispered, cupping her hands around his cheeks. “But that’s where you’re needed right now. If—if I can’t have my mom, you should at least be spending time with yours. Go let her know how much you love her.” That was her head talking, even though everything in her heart was screaming to keep him beside her.

Marco chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then nodded. “If that’s what you want me to do. I’ll be back in a couple days—”

“A week,” Star insisted, cutting him off sharply. “No less than that. That’ll give me enough time to come up with a game plan for when you get back.” Her lips quivered as they spread into a small smile. “And send me pics from the hospital. I need something to make me smile.”

“Deal,” Marco smiled back, squeezing her hands as they both turned their heads to look at her closed bedroom door. “I just want you to remember something: This title you have, that Wand you carried, and that magic you have inside...you are so much more than all of that. I know ‘cause I’ve seen it every day. And what you are is someone who never ever gives up. Not on herself, or the people she loves.” A lump rose in his throat, burning as the next words shook in the air, “Please don’t lose sight of who she is. I care about her too much.”

Star’s eyes brimmed once more, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “I’ll try...I’ll try really really hard, Marco.”

Marco chuckled softly, just for a moment. A ripple of laughter that immediately ceased when a shock of electricity sparked his cheek, his mind blanking senselessly when the sensation of two soft lips pressing there pulled away just as quickly. His heartbeat quickened, and his face flushed — she didn’t just do that. He had to have imagined it, he had to.

“Your usual chair’s open,” Star said, jerking her head towards her bedroom door.

“A-are you sure?” Marco asked, sounding like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him. “You’re not sleep portalling again, are you?”

“No, but I’m kinda worried about nightmares. So no matter what they tell me, at least I can wake up and know you’re okay.”

“If...if that’s what you want,” he repeated, this time his mouth so dry it came out more like a wheeze. He felt like he was floating when Star pulled him by the hand through the door, crashing back to reality when his bottom hit the chair seat.

“You stay there,” Star ordered while she climbed back into bed. “Any closer and the guards will haul you outta here and hang you by your toes.”

“I think the guards’ll be the least of my worries,” Marco muttered — and right on cue, Star glanced over at the phone she had not checked since early the night before. Six unread texts from Tom. Why had it not even crossed her mind to give him a call?

“Marco—”

“Star, I told Tom I kissed you.”

She blinked. “You told him what?”

Marco exhaled, “That I kissed you, and I feel horrible about it.”

“Why would you tell him that?” she croaked out in the loudest voice she had exerted since they were in the tapestry room.

“‘Cause we’re friends and he deserves to know the truth, Star,” Marco countered just as loudly.

“Yeah, he does,” Star nodded, her pained eyes locking onto his.

“Okay cool, so we’re on the same page.”

“No Marco, I don’t think we are.” She flung herself onto her side, cocooning herself in the warm woolen blankets. “I guess we’ll just add it to the list of stuff to talk about when you get back.”

“But Star—”

“Goodnight, Marco,” came Star’s irritable muffled voice from the pillows, trying not to get herself worked up into a teary mess again. Sliding her hand under the pillow, her fingers grazed the pointed corners and sleek edges of the photobooth pictures she had snagged before leaving Ruberiot’s wedding. Marco thought he had done the right thing, when in reality he had just made her job in coming clean to Tom a lot harder.

She clutched the photo of the kiss hidden in the fluffed linens. A kiss she had melted into, a kiss she had reciprocated. And Marco hadn’t even noticed. 

We kissed, Marco.

“Goodnight, Star,” Marco replied quietly. Then he let his gaze drift out to the crisp evening, basking in the light of Mewni’s four gleaming moons. “Goodnight, Queen Moon,” he called out, hoping with everything inside of him that his wish would reach her ears.

Star bit her lip hard at that, swallowing back any urge to sob as her heart swelled with love and sorrow. Another gentle breeze wafted into the room, stroking her face like a mother’s kiss, and her nails clawed at the pillow under her head, the photo now crumpling in her hand.

“Goodnight, Mom,” came her tiny voice like a child’s terrified plea. “Wherever you are…”

Fight for me

If it’s not too late

Help me breathe again

No, this can’t be how the story ends…