#it was mostly the duffle bag that was giving me some major issues

[hanjoj]

Would you have him as a PT? 👀

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 17

This is my @wackydrabbles​ post for week 87. The prompt is bolded. "No offense, but I'm not interested."

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Drake and some language.

*I was in a silly mood and this turned into a dumpster fire lol and it feels very rushed but I was trying to meet the word count. There may be a little bit of plot in this.

Word count: 1999

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

Liam sat on the floor with his back pressed against the mattress; one leg bent upright with the other extended crookedly out in front of him. Half of a bottle of Don Julio dangled loosely from a hand settled on his knee while two shiny gold rings encircled the pinky tip of his other.

In a fit of anger late last night, he searched for and consumed the first bottle of alcohol he came across in the liquor cabinet. He had no intentions of getting hammered or even a little drunk; Liam just needed something to take the edge off the hurt. Not that he for one second believed a word Riley told him before she walked out and boarded a red-eye commercial flight back to the States. 

As Liam pondered her abrupt departure in the early hours of the morning, one thing was for sure: He'd never been in love before, but what he felt for Riley was real -- and reciprocated -- that, "no," she spewed from her mouth when asked if she loved him was a lie.  

But why? That was the question he just couldn't figure out.

Having racked his brain for hours and with the sun finally coloring in the darkness of his chambers, Liam set aside his drink and lifted himself off the ground. Every thought that consumed him for the last several hours was riddled with putting the pieces together of why she actually left and why she felt she couldn't tell him the truth. Nothing made sense, yet ruminating alone in his room until he figured it out wasn't going to solve anything; the only way to get to the bottom of this was to retrace Riley's steps from the time she left the ball to when he made his way up to join her a little later. 

Stumbling to the bathroom -- mostly from exhaustion and perhaps a little drunker than he realized -- Liam stripped off the tuxedo he wore the prior evening and took a quick shower before heading down to the security office.

-----------

Riley's heavily drooping eyelids popped wide open when the plane shook from another vigorous tremor of turbulence. Gripping the armrests on both sides of her seat, she hesitated to peek out the window but was relieved when she saw the billowy waters of the Pacific had transformed into small, mosaic blocks of land covered by a shadow of the nearly setting sun. 

When the aircraft settled again, Riley reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone to check the time, grateful to be landing soon. She planned to go straight home, sink into her bed, and sleep the rest of her life away. Maybe wake up every once in a while to sob again before going back to sleep. Whatever Riley decided to do, she hated Madeleine, she hated Tyler, and she hated telling Liam she didn't love him; the more Riley thought about the stunned look on his face when she said it, the more nauseous her stomach felt.

And the nausea was getting worse.

Riley caught the eye of a nearby stewardess and waved her over; she needed ginger ale, and she needed it fast. 

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"I … I need, ginger ale, please." She asked through ragged breaths.

"Let me check and see if we have more." Riley nodded appreciatively.

"Hey. Don't I know you from somewhere?" A relatively large guy in the center seat, whose sweaty arm flab had been lodged in Riley's shoulder since takeoff, asked. Oh shit! Riley cupped a tight hand over her mouth and shook her head vigorously; the last thing she wanted was to be recognized. 

Or vomit.

While the stewardess searched the service cart for the requested drink, the gentleman's eyes enlarged. "Wait a minute. Yeah! You're that little gal who married some king, with ..." he snapped his fingers before adding in his thick Texan drawl, "the monkey and hookers and shit. Wow, my fiance wants to have a wedding just like yours." He held his hand out to her. "The names Beaver Calhoun, mayor of Slippery Nip, Texas. I guess you could say we're both royals, huh?"

Riley lowered her hand slightly; she was past the point of ginger ale helping, and this guy was blocking her way out. "Beaver, I need you to move." 

He stroked his chin in thought. "Well, I don't know, Queenie. I'm pretty content with my life there in Slippery Nip, Not really lookin' to uproot."

"No!' Riley's strained voice responded forcefully, "move out of the way--" She tried to fight it, but her head flung forward and everything came out with her last word.

Beaver looked down at his shirt and quirked a brow. "That's gonna leave a stain."

=============

On the second floor of a run-down Motel 6, just off the beaten path in Las Vegas, Drake tossed in the last of his clothes and airline tickets in a duffle bag and zipped it. Stepping over to the window, he pulled aside the tattered curtains to check if the airport's shuttle van had arrived yet. Disappointed, he grumbled to himself, "Where the hell are you? I'm ready to get the fuck out of here." 

The past week had been intense -- well, frankly, the entire month had been nothing short of shit balls. Five weeks ago, Drake landed in Las Vegas for Liam's bachelor party and won big money at the casino, only to have it all pissed away on some old, decrepit hooker who stole his wallet, cell phone, dick health, and what little joy he had in the world. Liam left with a sexy ass wife, and all Drake got was the false claim of fathering triplets and his scowling face on the front cover of the National Enquirer with Dr. Ethan Ramsey detailing the entire sordid journey from pre-surgical rooster rot to the aftercare.

He made a quick $500 for the story, in which he badly needed the money, considering he couldn't leave Vegas until the paternity test results came back. It was enough for his lodging, a couple cans of Beenie-Weenies and a few boxes of pepperoni Hot Pockets; his stomach felt like oil sludge at this point. But as a joke, Leo had sent a box of Ding-Dongs, so it wasn't all bad.

The rotary phone in his room rang out, and he answered the call from the front desk, which let him know transportation had arrived. Drake grabbed his bag, flicked a cockroach off of it, and exited his room into the enclosed hallway.

After stepping onto the elevator and hitting the down button, another person strolled on in a black leather mini-skirt, white see-through halter top, and a pair of fishnet stockings that he'd recognize anywhere.

"You!" He growled at the chain-smoking hooker, backing her up into the corner. "Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? And I WANT my wallet and cell phone back, now!" He hovered menacingly over the much smaller woman.

"No offense, but I'm not interested in giving them back to you," Pinquee Kittee sneered before reaching into her bra for mace and spraying him directly in the eyes. The rapid burn gave way to her next act of defense when a screaming, blinded Drake was doubled over by a swift karate kick to his newly transplanted organ. "Hiiiiyah!"

Drake cupped himself in anguish, fell to the floor, and slumped over as the elevator doors opened. Pinquee Kittee grabbed his duffle bag and peeked down the hallway to make sure no one was around before making her getaway.

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

Just outside of the palace's security office, Liam knocked on the door several times without an answer. It was rare that the King would personally pay a visit. Usually, he would call Bastien and have the head guard look into any issues. With him gone, this just felt like something Liam needed to do in person. 

After several more knocks, Liam reached for the door handle and slowly opened it to let himself inside. The lights were off, with only a few CCTV screens displaying various images of places within and surrounding the palace. Finding the light switch on the wall beside the door, Liam flipped them on, and his mouth fell agape at what he saw.

"What the hell happened in here?" He shouted as his hands shot to his hips, glaring around the room. 

On the floor was a maze of beer cans, whiskey bottles, remnants of silly string, a five-gallon bucket of butter next to a slip-n-slide, a voodoo doll with Liam's face on it, and half-a-dozen guards passed out. 

A furious Liam made his way through, kicking the feet of guardsmen as he stepped along. "Get up! All of you!"

One-by-one, they slowly roused until they realized it was the King in their presence, then they jumped to their feet at attention. 

"Would someone like to explain what the actual fuck happened in here?" Liam wasn't one to swear in front of his staff, but there was no way he could hold back after walking in on this scene. His glowering eyes shifted with expectancy from one man to the next, waiting for an answer, until someone finally called out, "We threw Rogers a going away party for his last night on the job, Your Majesty."

"And you thought having a wild party while you were ON DUTY to protect 400 members of the nobility for a major event was the time to do that?

The guard shook his head. "Not at all, Sir. I admit we weren't as attentive as we should have been last night ..." he pointed behind Liam, "but Prince Leo came by and suggested we kick it up a notch."

Liam turned around and caught Leo slithering along the edge of the wall toward the door. "Leo!"

The Prince stopped dead in his tracks, then flickered his eyes and jolted his body as if he were just waking up. Leo looked at Liam, acting surprised to see him. "Liam? Is that you? H-How did I get in here?"

Liam rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, Leo."

"What?” Leo shrugged innocently. “You know what I think happened. I must have been sleepwalking again. You know how I get when I watch The Duchess before bed." He cocked his head introspectively at his brother. “And you do look like the Duke from that movie, you handsome devil you?” He grinned impishly.

Liam stared blankly at his older brother for a few seconds, then turned around to face the others gathered around. "Who's in charge here?"

When one of the men raised a hand, the King stepped up to him and explained, "Alright, I need you to pull up security footage from last night. I want to review everything from the moment I stepped outside the ballroom to meet the Queen around 9:30, and where she went after I went back into the ballroom." 

If this were any other day, Liam would have fired every one of them on the spot and sent Leo to Antarctica, but he only had one concern: Finding out what happened to Riley.

As the guard typed in his computer to pull up footage from last night, Leo stepped up to Liam, who was hovering over the guard's shoulder with anticipation. "What's going on?"

Never taking his eyes off the screen, he responded. "Riley went back to Las Vegas last night."

"Wh-Why? What happened?"

Liam let out a breath. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

Leo remained silent before giving his little brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and watching with him.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as different camera footages were switched to follow Riley walking from the main staircase, through several passages, and finally ending with the corridor outside of his quarters.

"Stop!" Liam leaned in closer as the guard paused the video; his entire body tensed up at what he saw.

"Is that ..." Leo scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Madeleine."

___________

Tags: @burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @ao719​  @jessiembruno​ @texaskitten30​ @janezillow​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​s @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​ @lovablegranny​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @amandablink​ @liamxs-world​ @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @charlotteg234​ @annekebbphotography​ @txemrn​ @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren​ @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful​ @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​ @neotericthemis​ @pink-diamond13​ @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09​ @gabesmommie1130​ @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801​ @debmcg1106 @lifeaskim @choicesstan650​ @emkay512​ @royalromancer​

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen​n

Anything with Drake:@tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:   @narrytheworld​​  @queenwalton​  @cordonianprincess​        @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​  @drrookie​ @sfb123​ @secretaryunpaid​ @masterofbluff​

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

Some News & Explanations

So, it's been a while, near a year I think, since I last posted anything really 'major' here or anywhere else. I did share a few pieces over on FF.net, but I wanted to explain the reason I was basically MIA for the past year.

2020 started off on a bad note for me and my family, which had nothing to do with the pandemic. Nearing the end of 2019, we noticed that my grandfather was not doing so well, and after learning that he had suffered a stroke and told no one, not even our family doctor, things quickly went south. Multiple tests were done, and each time he got worse and worse, until finally after New Years, he was finally diagnosed with ALS. Now those of you who don't know, it's a crippling disease. If you're young, you have a chance at a long life with treatment and medicine. If you're over 50, it's aggressive, quick, and painful. We literally watched my grandfather whither away for three months before he finally passed away in March.

March 2020 was shitty all around. My grandfather passed, his funeral was held a week later, although it had been delayed as Corona had just been declared as a pandemic so heavy lockdowns had been put into effect here in Germany. And to add insult to injury, some ass used a 'legal loophole' to swindle money out of me by claiming I was parked on private property. I did pay it, forgetting I did have insurance/coverage to help me for such situations, but when you're in mourning, thought process is pretty much nonexistent.

April 2020 was the first time I was affected by the pandemic as the company I was working with at the time had to close for two weeks since a few workers had tested positive as well as a lack of workers since some did come from France but were unable to cross the boarder due to the harsh lockdowns.

May 2020 things were looking a little on the bright side as I could officially move into my now apartment. Not only due to the fact that my sister finally found her own apartment close to where she was going to school and work, but because city hall was once again open and I could register to be a citizen of the city. Only to discover the apartment not only had water damage, but mold as well. Which was made worse since the landlord mentioned he did not have house insurance. Which is a big No-No here in Germany. Regardless if you live in the space or not, if you own it, you are required to have it insured in your name. Let's just say it made fixing it up and getting paid due to damages was made difficult because of his lack of insurance.

June 2020 I was once again living with my parents since the apartment needed to be cleaned and dehumidified. So, I was under stress since I was living out of their office and out of a duffle bag.

July 2020 I could finally move into the apartment and register with the city. Along with getting house insurance, since, as a tenant, I would need that, and it would help should any other issues crop up.

August 2020 I had to go through the process of quitting with the temp firm in order to be signed on officially with the company I was working with/for. It was a process as I was constantly asked for various forms of my resignation letters as well as various forms of sending it in.

September 2020 my car broke down. I could drive maybe for 15 minutes before the engine overheated. Which was enough time to get from work, to my parents, and from their place to our mechanic. He shared with me that the cooling system for the engine was basically leaking. It could be fixed for anywhere between 1000 - 2000 €, but with how old the car was, it wasn't worth it since he spotted other issues that would later cause problems that would either need to be fixed or replaced altogether. For an imported car from the US, it would be a timely and costly in the long run, so I needed to buy a new car.

October 2020 finally got a new (used) car which I'm happy with, still am to this day. Only to be laid off at the end of the month. The reason being was the low numbers of our product from the year; not just due to the pandemic, but also from a fire happening at a sister factory that slowed in us getting the supplies needed for us in production. All of which they had known since September, when they hired me on.

November 2020 went back to the temp company and immediately got a new job. Along with that, the restrictions that had been slightly lifted during the summer were once again in effect, along with a curfew.

December 2020 was actually calm, and I used this time to finally relax with my family.

January - March 2021 basically this is Germany's tax season, and I discovered that my temp company failed to give me my tax papers, so running around there. I was mostly quiet during this time, so I had planned on returning to both here and fanfic in general as I was comfortable with the company I was working with. Until they announced that they would be closing the location I was working at and moving their operation to a city that is literally in the middle of nowhere and would take me some 2 hours to travel to get there.

April 2020 was spent negotiating a new place to work with my temp company.

May - June 2020 a new job, a bit further away than I would have liked, but the work was alright and my coworkers were sociable. Until I was let go. And this was with the company lying to my temp firm, that I was caught playing on my phone during working hours. Which is impossible when you're working on a machine that needs to be watched, otherwise it was likely to jam. I learned the truth when I went in the next day to return my time-stamp chip that it was due to the reason that the next week there wouldn't be enough work to keep me. My temp firm said they might cross the company off their list of potential partners when I shared that bit of information, along with a few other details.

July - August 2020 so new job, closer to home, better pay, and with a few old coworkers from the company that wanted to close shop and move away. (I later learned they want to return back down to the area I live in, so, who knows what's going on with the higher ups). My family and I are also in the process of changing insurance brokers, as our old one was swindling us out of money, which we wouldn't have known if he had bothered to take the time to reply to our calls or messages or simply let us know that he wouldn't be in his office at certain times for whatever reason. Seriously, a simple 'I'm currently unavailable today, please contact me tomorrow' or 'I'll be out of office between XX to XX. Please wait until I return to ask any questions or address any issues' would have been better than waiting weeks to a month for a reply of any kind.

I'm sure I've explained this at least at some points during the past year, but then things just kept happening. Which then postponed and delayed my return more and more. I humbly apologize because of this and I ask for everyone's forgiveness. I do hope to return sooner rather than later, and if things continue to look as positive as they have these past two months, it looks like I'll finally be able to do so.

TM;DR 2020 sucked for more than just because of the pandemic, and hopefully I'll return sooner rather than later.

[honey-dewey]

(Hold me Closer) Tiny Dancer

Chapter 6

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,377

Fic Warnings: Non-sexual age regression, split perspective, classification AU, canon-typical violence

Chapter Warnings: age regression, very faint hints of abuse, tiny little tantrums

Taglist: None for this fic. If you want to be added, just ask, but I know this is an odd topic and therefore will not tag anyone unless they ask

Jack’s not exactly the most stable human being on the planet, but when he tests as a Caregiver, all hell breaks loose as someone who was just his work partner suddenly becomes so much more.

Multi-chapter story. Chapter 6 of ? Read Chapter 1 Here

-Mojito-

The screen in front of you was dead black, no image coming up. You were about to ask Ginger if something had gone wrong when a small white light began to glow. A small pop up next to the light prompted you to use your dominant hand to poke the light. You did, a bit confused about the controls, and the light began to expand, until your eyes were filled with nothing but white.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, closing your eyes. “That’s bright.”

When the light subsided, you were in a completely different location. It seemed to be a small trailer with all sorts of cards on one wall. As you examined them, you noted they were all in different colors with different symbols.

On the other wall, there was a countertop with a bunch of random stuff scattered around. Empty cans, floppy discs, photographs, some wires, and a couple of other things that made you blink. You slowly reached out to one of the photographs. A pop up told you how to grip things, and you picked the photo up.

It was grainy and a bit wobbly in your virtual hand, but the image was clear enough. It was a picture of all the senior agents at Statesman, all gathered at a bar and smiling widely. You recognized Champ, Ginger, Mai Tai, Manhattan, Margarita, Merlot, and right in the middle, looking so much younger you hardly recognized him, was Whiskey.

You smiled, turning the picture over and seeing the date written on the back. Twelve years ago.

“Damn Whiskey,” you said out loud, knowing he could probably hear you. “How old are you?”

A slight chirping near you shocked you, causing you to turn and laugh. A robot, much like Wall-e if Wall-e had no bottom half, was floating at the front of the trailer. It waved, and you waved back. The robot trilled happily, getting closer to you. It pointed to the virtual photograph you’d dropped, and you picked it up.

“Do you want it?” You asked, holding the photo out to the robot.

The robot took the photo, popping it into a small projector. You grinned, stepping closer and examining the photo further now that it was bigger.

“Do you have any more?” You asked the robot, and it chirped again, pointing to a drawer. You opened the drawer, revealing more photos.

Looking up at the robot, you shook your head. “I can’t waste time buddy,” you said. “Maybe later.”

The robot nodded, opening a cabinet and taking out a small machine with a slot on the top. You nodded, grabbing the red card with the simplistic gun symbol on it and slotting it into the machine.

The trailer began to melt away, leaving you in a rather futuristic shooting range. A wall of virtual guns sat on a wall to your left, and you smiled at the robot, who was waiting patiently by the gun rack. “Let’s do this.”

-Whiskey-

Jack wasn’t the kind of person who got overly impressed by much. However, what he saw in front of him was enough to shock him.

Mojito’s view was on a TV screen in the viewing room, along with a still version of the virtual shooting range. He could see Mojito through the window in front of him, and a tiny part of him was worried about Mojito’s headspace. And then they picked up two guns off the virtual rack and started shooting.

It was a whirlwind of activity, and Jack actually had to stop watching the first TV because it was making him dizzy. Instead, he turned to the second one, watching in complete awe as Mojito took out each target. When it was all over, Mojito had shot their guns twenty six times and they’d successfully hit forty targets.

“Should I do it with another weapon?” They asked, turning to the small robot.

It chirped, holding out a hand with a red button. A pop up told Mojito they could either stay and continue shooting or go back and try another level.

They chose to try another level, looking around and eventually turning towards where Jack and Ginger were sitting. “What time is it?”

Ginger leaned towards a microphone and turned it on. “You’ve got time for one more.”

“Cool.” Mojito examined the cards on the wall, picking up a blue one with ‘Exit’ written on it. “An escape room?”

While they attempted the escape room, something Ginger promised would only take a half an hour, Jack left, heading out to pack a bag for the trip. He ended up in his office with a small bag that had a few essentials. Clothes, toiletries, a book or two, his laptop and charger, and a small travel poker set.

Then he got set on packing Mojito a bag.

It was a bit difficult. Mojito already had a bag of their own leisure clothes and going-out clothes, and their phone and books. Which meant all Jack had to do was pack a Little’s bag.

He picked up an unassuming duffle bag, carefully attracting a tag with Mojito’s name and agent number. They were traveling public, which meant Jack had to be very careful about what was packed. He’d already done his own carry-on, and Mojito had theirs, but this final bag was giving him absolute hell.

Jack ended up taking so long that Mojito finished what they were doing and came to find him.

“What is taking you so long?” They asked, knocking on the open door frame.

“Just confused,” Jack admitted, turning to Mojito. “Actually, why don’t you help me. You’ll be wearing these clothes anyway.”

Mojito walked over to stand with Jack, overlooking the clothes in the closet. “Well, grab a couple onesies. I like this one that I have on right now, but we might need some fleecyer ones. I bet Kingsman has some stuff, so if we forget some things, it’ll be okay.”

Jack pulled out a few onesies, some fleecy and some not. He automatically added socks, letting Mojito sift through the less pyjama-y clothes.

“Here.” They handed him a few pairs of folded pants. “I’ve got shoes in my bag already.”

After the pants went in, Mojito and Jack grabbed a few more shirts, two sweaters, and a set of winter accessories just in case.

“Why don’t you take the bags that are done out to the Bronco,” Jack said, looking at the mostly full Little’s bag. “I’ll be right down with this one.”

Mojito nodded and left, carting the bags down the halls. Jack immediately began to pack everything else. Diapers, pull-ups, a few toys he knew Mojito liked, books, and a soft blanket they’d gotten attached to.

In his carry-on, Jack put a pacifier and a few small toys, just in case.

“Ready?” Mojito asked, standing in the doorway.

“Ready.” Jack put the bag over his shoulder and smiled. “Let’s go.”

Their ride to the airport was easy, considering it wasn’t far. The TSA line was hellish, but it was always hellish. As soon as they exited TSA, Mojito pulled a stuffed bear out from their carry-on, gripping it tightly.

“You good ‘Jito?” Jack asked, seeing Mojito’s clearly uncomfortable face.

“Haven’t flown public in a while,” Mojito admitted. “It’s weird.”

Jack nodded his agreement. “It’s only ten hours,” he promised. “And it’s partially an overnight flight, so you can nap.”

Mojito hummed, clinging to the bear tighter. “Okay.”

The plane itself was nice, because of course Statesman wanted them to be comfortable, but Mojito kept getting more and more nervous as Jack found their seats, looking around with wide eyes until they squeaked when the plane actually took off, shaking violently.

“Mojito,” Jack murmured, taking Mojito’s hand and startling them. “Hey, kiddo, look at me.”

Mojito nodded, their death grip on the teddy bear wrinkling the clothes the bear was wearing. “Scared.”

Jack sighed, reaching across the seat divide to give Mojito a hug, rubbing their back and humming softly. “It’s okay kiddo. I hear ya, I know it’s scary.”

It took a minute for Mojito to relax. They tried moving their thumb to their mouth, but Jack was faster. He grabbed the pacifier he’d packed, offering it to Mojito, who took it hesitantly. Once properly reassured, Mojito snuggled up to Jack, sighing loosely and falling asleep quickly.

The plane ride was calm from there. No turbulence, no major issues, and Mojito woke up just as the plane was landing. They shuffled around a bit, yawning and almost losing their pacifier. Jack caught it before it could hit the floor, smiling and offering it back to Mojito, who took it happily.

Getting off the plane was a trip. Jack had done this a thousand times, but never with a sleepy Little holding his hand. Mojito rubbed their eyes, shuffling behind Jack as he collected their bags. It was a bit of trouble, lugging along three bags, but he was a Statesman. He could do it.

Eggsy was waiting for him, leaning against a car and smiling. “Whiskey.”

“Eggsy,” Jack greeted, putting the bags down and noting that Mojito was hiding behind him. Smiling, he urged them out, feeling them grip his jacket. “This shy little thing is Mojito, my partner.”

Eggsy leaned down, holding a hand out to Mojito. “Well hello there. I’m Eggsy.”

Mojito peered out from behind Jack. “Eggy?”

“Yeah!” Eggsy said, causing Mojito to brighten. “I’m good friends with your daddy.”

Immediately, Jack corrected him. “Oh no, we ain’t-”

“Daddy!” Mojito said happily from behind him, cutting him off.

Jack sighed. “Okay.”

Eggsy chuckled, leading Jack and Mojito to the car. “This’ll take us to our new headquarters. Thanks to Statesman, we were able to rebuild quickly.”

The ride was quiet. Mojito, who was completely exhausted despite sleeping for most of the flight, fell asleep practically on Jack. Eggsy and Jack talked, catching up on recent events. Apparently Eggsy had kept his title of Galahad and Harry had been made the new Arthur. They’d continued to recruit, and the position of Merlin had been filled by someone Ginger had recommended.

“We’re here.” Eggsy said, stepping out of the car and popping the trunk so he could help Jack with his luggage. Jack got out, convincing Mojito to get out too. They grumbled, rubbing their eyes and complaining.

“Shh,” Jack hushed as Mojito began to whine. “Behave.”

Mojito crossed their arms and pouted, but did as asked and stopped whining.

Eggsy took them through the building, showing them their room.

“Ginger said you had a Little, so there’s a nursery attached,” he said as he opened the door. “We haven’t got many Littles, but there are enough of them. If you want, Geraint, Bedivere, and Lamorak are downstairs. They’re our Littles. Mojito could go play while you get properly caught up. I’m sure Harry will want to talk to you.”

“I wanna go with Daddy!” Mojito insisted, taking firm hold of Jack’s coat sleeve.

“‘Jito, kiddo, why don’t you go meet the other Littles?” Jack tried. “I’m sure they’ll be much more fun than sitting in a boring room with me and Eggsy.”

Mojito turned their eyes on Jack’s face. “Don’t wanna leave you,” they said, less insistent and more fearful.

Jack’s heart hurt, and clearly Eggsy could see it too. “Why don’t we all meet in the Little’s center,” he suggested. “That way Mojito doesn’t have to leave you, but we can still get caught up.”

It was a good idea, one that Mojito accepted with no trouble. They skipped down the hall, humming some earworm from a recent disney movie. Their previous fear was long gone now that they wouldn’t be removed from Jack’s side.

The Kingsman Little center was less of a center and more of a single room. It had neutral colored walls and a soft carpet with comfortable looking furniture. There were toys scattered around, along with three Littles, all gathered around a large dollhouse. They all looked over when Eggsy opened the door, immediately crowding around him and happily cheering. Mojito whimpered and hid behind Jack, gripping his coat with surprising strength.

“Mojito?” Eggsy said, turning to look for the missing Little. “Mojito? Do you want to meet the others?”

Mojito firmly shook their head and went back to hiding behind Jack.

Jack sighed. “They’ve never met another Little, at least not that we know of.”

Eggsy nodded. “So they’re nervous?”

“Yeah, probably. I still don’t want to push it.” Jack led Mojito to the table where the adults would meet. “Mojito, kiddo, why don’t you sit here? I’m sure Eggsy can help me find some coloring pages for you.”

Mojito nodded, settling at the table and nervously watching the other three Littles as Eggsy herded them back to the dollhouse.

“I wanna sit with Eggy!” One of them said, tugging on Eggsy’s sleeve and looking desperately at the table. “Please!”

Jack sighed, meeting Eggsy’s eyes. “Fine. But you have to be quiet,” Eggsy bargained. “Our guest is very scared right now and needs you to be quiet.”

The Little nodded, eagerly grabbing a coloring book and a box of crayons and sitting across from Mojito, who shied away and gripped Jack’s coat sleeve.

“Hi,” the Little said quietly, waving at Mojito. “I’m Dew, but Eggy calls me Bevidere.”

“Bedivere,” Eggsy corrected, sitting next to Dew and smiling. “Jack, Mojito, this is Agent Bedivere, but their civilian name is Dewey.”

Dewey smiled, passing a coloring page to Mojito. “Wanna color?”

Mojito nodded, nervously taking the coloring page and grabbing a blue crayon from the pile on the table. Jack grinned, looking over as Harry entered the room.

“Ah, I see we’re all coloring,” he said, sitting at the head of the table. “Dewey, what have you got?”

“A space man!” Dewey proudly held up a half-colored picture of Boba Fett.

“And you?” Harry turned to Mojito. Mojito looked up, holding up a picture of R2-D2.

Harry smiled. “Very well done young Mojito.”

Mojito’s face broke into a grin and they went back to coloring.

“Harry,” Jack said. “Pardon my interruption, but if we could focus?”

“Apologies Whiskey,”

“Just Jack will work.”

Harry didn’t even skip a beat correcting himself. “Jack. So, what do you want to know?”

[whumphoarder]

Emergency Contact

Summary: It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

Or, in which fifteen-year-old college freshman Tony Stark needs a ride to the ER and James Rhodes is too responsible for his own good.

Word count: 4,050

Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, angst, whump

A/N: Thank you so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading, ideas, and encouragement!

Link to read on Ao3

It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.

To be fair, the skinny five-foot-four prepubescent kid who’d walked into James’ dorm on move-in day didn’t look much like a college student, nor was he lugging in cardboard boxes and duffle bags filled with crap like the rest of the freshmen in the hall. There was no air of excitement and trepidation to him—no telltale buzz of new experiences. Not to mention, James had spent the majority of his summer away at Air Force ROTC camp, cut off from most forms of media and therefore oblivious to the rumors that Howard Stark’s infamous fifteen-year-old child prodigy was set to start his engineering course at MIT the very same semester that he was. It was hardly his fault for not recognizing the kid.

Even so, he probably shouldn’t have addressed Tony as ‘champ’ and asked if he was there to drop off an older sibling. That was on him.

What was not on James, however, was the fit Stark pitched at the resident assistant’s office upon realizing that his father had evidently not set him up with a single room after all.

“So move me then,” the little twerp demanded. “Just put it on the old man’s bill—he’s got the money. I didn’t just live through the last seven years of boarding school dormitories only to have to keep sharing the fucking bathroom in college.” He glanced over his shoulder at James, before adding, offhandedly, “No offense—I’m sure you’re swell.”

James huffed out a short, ironic laugh. He was standing in the back corner of the office with his back leaning against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, quietly taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. “None taken.”

(At this point, he wouldn’t have minded a switch either.)

The mousy redhead at the desk looked frazzled. “Look, I’m very sorry, Mr. Stark,” she tried to explain, “but there’s nothing I can do. All our single dorms are fully booked.”

Even when the kid shoved a wad of cash at her tall enough to make James’ eyebrows rise, the RA held her ground.

“It’s a first come, first serve policy,” she explained, her voice faltering, but words firm. “At least until something opens up. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it has to be.”

So there they were, a nineteen-year-old Air Force cadet from a working class family in Philly who had gotten into ‘fancy school’ on an ROTC scholarship, a 3.87 GPA, and a prayer, and a spoiled rich brat with a pile of daddy issues taller than the Bunker Hill Monument. The two were going to be stuck together for at least the next few weeks and neither of them was particularly thrilled about it.

X

Despite James’ initial concerns, rooming with Stark wasn’t actually that bad.

James had an additional scholarship that was dependent on his academic performance, so he joined several study groups to keep his grades up. Between ROTC, student government, and mock UN, along with his never-ending mountain of engineering coursework, he was rarely home.

Meanwhile, Tony might look like a twelve-year-old, but that certainly didn’t get in the way of his budding popularity on campus. The kid was swimming in invites to different parties and events (though whether that was due to his own sharp wit and natural charisma, or simply his undeniable social status as the son of Howard Stark, James couldn’t tell). Either way, between James’ busy schedule and Tony’s avid social calendar, the two could go days without seeing each other, which suited them both just fine.

With all the partying, James figured his roommate’s grades must be suffering, but a curious glance at the quarterly report letter lying on Tony’s desk last week proved otherwise. The kid had straight A’s in all seven of his classes—two more than James himself was taking.

(Alright, maybe he disliked Tony a little bit.)

X

James knew it wasn’t going to be a good day from the moment he woke up to see sunlight streaming in through the blinds. That just wasn’t supposed to happen at 5:45 a.m. in November.

“Shit,” he muttered, scrambling out of his twin-size bunk. The display on his alarm clock was silently blinking the very incorrect time of ‘12:00’. The previous night’s storm must have knocked out the power. He grabbed his watch from atop his desk to check the actual time and immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. 7:22. No morning run today, but he should still be able to make it to his eight a.m. class if he hurried.

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he snagged some clean clothes from his dresser and made a beeline to the adjoining bathroom. He pushed open the door and slapped on the light switch, but the second the room illuminated to reveal the scrawny figure sitting slumped on the floor between the toilet and the wall, James froze.

“Tony?” he asked in confusion. He hadn’t even heard the kid come home last night.

Without opening his eyes, Tony hummed a bit in response. Then all at once, he lurched forward and gagged, coughing up what looked to be mostly bile into the toilet bowl.

James grimaced. It was definitely not the first time he’d seen his roommate severely hungover, but it was the first time he’d seen it happen on a Tuesday . At the rate this kid was partying, he’d be lucky if he had any liver function left by the time he graduated.

With a sigh, James set his stack of clean clothes down on the sink counter. “Look man, I’m sorry, but I really gotta shower. I know you’re not feeling too great, but do you think you can give me, like, five minutes in here?”

Tony blinked up at him, seeming to process the question. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay…”

Doing his best to ignore the acidic smell of vomit, James stepped carefully around Tony into the small room. He flushed the toilet and grabbed the metal trash can from beside the sink while Tony pulled himself shakily to his feet.

“Thanks dude. I promise I’ll be fast.” He passed the can off to Tony and watched him stumble back out of the room before shutting the door.

If the military had taught James nothing else, it was efficiency. He emerged ten minutes later—showered, dressed, and clean shaven—to find Tony sitting listlessly on the edge of his bed. The boy looked more dead than alive, with one arm wrapped around his stomach and sweat soaking through his thin gray t-shirt. Just the sight of him was practically an underage drinking PSA in itself.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” James announced as he grabbed his backpack from the floor.

Tony acknowledged him with a small grunt, but didn’t make any effort to move. His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing through it carefully, warily eyeing the trash can on the floor in front of him. For once, James was glad he had an eight a.m. class to get to; he figured in about five minutes, he wouldn’t want to be here anyway.

In a spur of the moment gesture of kindness, James grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the case under his desk and tossed it onto Tony’s bed. “Feel better, dude,” he said on his way out the door.

X

Tuesday was always a busy day for James. He had back-to-back classes all morning, followed by a student council meeting in the afternoon and a mandatory ROTC training session. It was nearly seven o’clock by the time he made it back to the dorm, and by that time he’d honestly forgotten about that morning’s excitement until he opened the door to their room.

As miserable as Tony had appeared that morning, he looked decidedly worse now. He was lying curled up on the edge of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, cheeks flushed and body shivering. The whole room carried the vague scent of vomit, though the trash can by the bed was currently empty.

“So… I take it this isn’t a hangover?” James deduced, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He plopped the paper sack of Taco Bell that was going to make up his dinner onto his desk, causing Tony’s face to scrunch up in displeasure. “Stomach flu?” he guessed.

Tony made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.

“Think you got a fever?”

Another low noise issued from Tony, somewhere between a grunt and a moan, which James took to mean something along the lines of ‘don’t know, and don’t care.’

James hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. If his mother were here, she’d tisk her tongue and press her hand to the kid’s forehead to gauge his temperature, but somehow he didn’t see that going over too well with Tony.

Instead, James checked his watch and sighed. “I can give you a ride to the student health center if you want,” he offered. “They don’t close until eight.”

“Don’ have to... ‘s just a bug,” Tony mumbled into the pillow, the most consecutive words James had heard from him all day. “I’ll be fine.”

The thing was, if Tony were one of his ROTC buddies, James would have dropped it right there. He’d never been particularly good at caretaking, and besides, he had a test coming up in his thermal-fluids class tomorrow morning that he should really be studying for. But something about the utter vulnerability Tony was displaying at the moment gave James pause. True, the kid might be a stuck-up asshole, but he was also just that— a kid. Only a few years older than James’ own kid-brother.

James looked at Tony appraisingly. “Can you handle a shower?”

“Huh?” Tony breathed.

“A shower,” James repeated. “Remember those? Water, soap, maybe even some shampoo if you’re feeling adventurous,” he said wryly. “That is, if you can do it without passing out.”

Tony fixed him with a rather pathetic glare. “Not gonna pass out.”

“You better not,” James quipped, crossing his arms and watching as Tony pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen more than enough white boys’ pasty asses this summer to last a lifetime. I have no desire to add another.”

(Tony lifted his middle finger weakly in his roommate’s direction.)

X

Over the sound of the shower running in the background, James ate his tacos and started flipping through his class notes in preparation for the test the next morning, but he was finding it unusually hard to focus. He kept listening for any sounds of distress from the bathroom, and after fifteen minutes had elapsed, he got up from his desk and crossed the room.

“Hey, I was serious about the ‘no passing out’ rule, Stark,” he hollered, rapping his knuckles against the door. “If you biff it in there, you’re on your own.”

As if on cue, a loud crashing sound immediately issued from inside the shower.

James’ eyes widened. He jiggled the door handle only to find it locked. “Tony?” he called. “Did you just fall?”

There was no response.

James cursed. He grabbed a paper clip from his desk and quickly jimmied the flimsy lock open—a skill he’d learned from his cousins years ago—before pushing open the door. “Tony?” he called again.

Suddenly, a hand emerged and pulled the edge of the shower curtain back just enough for Tony to stick his head out the side. His face was totally straight, but there was a hint of mirth in his eyes. “Whoops, must’ve dropped the shampoo bottle,” he deadpanned. “Thank god I’m rooming with the US Coast Guard.”

“Air Force,” James corrected irritably.

Tony pulled the curtain back closed. “Whatever.”

James rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m letting you drown, Stark...” he grumbled as he stepped back out of the room.

X

By the time Tony finally emerged from the bathroom an additional twenty minutes later (the latter ten of which he’d spent retching loud enough into the toilet that James had broken out his walkman and headphones), all traces of his earlier humor had dissolved. He moved shakily back to his bed and managed a couple sips of water before curling up on his side, the trash can within easy reach.

James tried to turn his attention back to his textbook, but Tony’s labored breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness was making it difficult to focus. James kept stealing worried side glances back at the bed, wondering whether there was something else he should be doing.

At around nine-thirty, Tony jerked up suddenly and stumbled back to the bathroom to start dry-retching into the toilet again, and that was when James gave up trying to study for the night. He got up from his desk and pushed open the hastily half-closed door to the bathroom to wet a washcloth at the sink. When the mostly unproductive spasms ceased, he handed the cloth to Tony.

“Have you eaten anything today?” James asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

Tony just grimaced and shook his head.

“Want some crackers or something?” he offered. “I can go raid the cafeteria soup station.” James might not have had as packed of a social calendar as Tony, but it wasn’t like he never partied. He still knew the college hangover tricks.

Tony shook his head again, eyes closed. He seemed to lack the energy for words.

“Gatorade at least then?” James tried again. “All I’ve seen you drink today is one water bottle—you’ve gotta be getting dehydrated by now.”

Another head shake. “I’ll jus’ puke it up again…” Tony muttered. “Prob’ly a kidney too at this rate.”

“Well it’s better than puking up nothing,” James reasoned. Technically, he didn’t know if that was true or not, but he was tired of watching the kid be miserable. He moved back to the room to grab his keys and jacket. “What flavor do you want?” he called.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony croaked back from the bathroom. “They’re all terrible.”

“That’s the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard you say,” James retorted. “Just for that you’re getting purple.”

And with that, he exited the dorm and shut the door behind him with a bang.

X

It turned out that the vending machine in the lobby outside the dining hall only sold three Gatorade flavors—blue, orange, and red. James bought a bottle of each, then slipped into the deserted cafeteria to snag a handful of individually-wrapped saltine packets from the clam chowder counter before heading back to the dorm. It took some cajoling, but he managed to get two full crackers and half a bottle of the sports drink into Tony before it came right back up.

“Told you,” Tony rasped, spitting neon blue strings of bile into the toilet bowl. “Lost cause.”

“We’ll try red next,” James said, cracking open a fresh bottle. “One of them’s bound to stick.”

But red didn’t stay down any better, and neither did orange. James mooched a can of ginger ale and a quarter of a bottle of Pepto Bismol off a fellow cadet down the hall, but those fared no better. Even the cup of tap water James kept bullying him into taking sips from proved too much.

By midnight, Tony was still sitting slumped against the toilet on the bathroom floor, barely conscious, and James was at a total loss. “I think we have to go to the ER,” he admitted finally.

Without opening his eyes, Tony made a low noise of discontent in the back of his throat. His eyes were sunken in and he was alarmingly pale.

James let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m sorry man, but we’re running out of options here. If you can’t even keep water down, you’re gonna need an IV.”

“No…” Tony lifted a shaky hand to try to take the cup of water James was holding. “I’ll-I’ll try again… just—” His words were cut off by a weak gag.

James cursed under his breath and quickly steered Tony’s head back over the bowl. It turned out not to matter though because for the next several minutes of miserable retching, nothing came up. When it was finally over, Tony slumped back against the wall. His eyes were red and puffy, and James figured it was only dehydration that was keeping the tears from falling.

“Alright, that’s it,” James declared. He wrapped an arm around Tony to lever him upright, feeling the feverish heat coming off the kid in waves. “I’m not letting you die on our bathroom floor—we won’t get the deposit back.”

Tony breathed out the ghost of a laugh. “Jus’ tell Howard to write you a check at the funeral...” he murmured. “‘bout all he’s good for,” he added under his breath.

James’ brow furrowed but he chose not to comment. He hoisted Tony to his feet and bore most of the kid’s weight as he led him back to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m gonna get you a clean shirt, okay?”

Tony nodded, gazing blankly forward with half-lidded eyes. James ended up having to help the kid pull his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and guide his uncooperative arms into a fresh one, followed by his coat. When they got to the shoes, James didn’t even bother having Tony try himself. He just stuffed the kid’s feet into a pair of sneakers for him.

“I taught my little sister how to do this last summer,” James explained as he tied Tony’s laces, if only for something to fill the awkward silence. “She’s in first grade.”

Tony hummed lightly. “I never went.”

James frowned, pulling the knot tight. “What do you mean?”

“Firs’ grade,” Tony clarified. “Or second. They started me in third.”

James smirked, imagining tiny five-year-old Tony filling out his multiplication tables in a classroom full of kids a full head taller than him. But his face quickly fell again as he suddenly realized a potential flaw in their plan. Tony may be in college, but he was still technically a minor. James wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to bring him off campus. “Shit, we’re gonna need to call your parents...” he said.

Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”

James raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m about to haul their fifteen-year-old son’s ass off to the hospital? Have you been following this conversation at all?”

“Oh. Jus’ leave a note for the RA.” Tony shrugged, listless. “They won’t care.”

James gave him a strange look. “Of course they’ll care—they’re your parents.”

Tony’s eyes were glassy with fever. “They won’t,” he croaked. “Been in boarding school since I was seven.” A shiver ran through his body and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Got pneumonia one winter and was in the hospital eight days. Dad jus’ paid the school to handle everything—didn’ even visit.” A tear finally slipped down the side of his cheek. “I was twelve.”

James knew it was just the fever making Tony so forthcoming at the moment, but it didn’t make his words any easier to take. As much as James always complained about his own mother’s doting whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he couldn’t imagine being sick enough to be in the hospital and not having anyone there for him. He didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Tony broke the awkward silence. “Sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his palm against them. “‘M fine.”

With a quiet sigh, James put his arm around Tony to help him back to standing. “You know what? We’ll just call them when we get there,” he said before leading Tony out to the car.

X

The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Tony sat curled up in the passenger seat of James’ old beater of a Chevy Monza with an empty plastic bag in his lap, quiet except for the occasional whimper he’d let out when they’d hit a bump in the road. When they arrived, James got Tony checked in and situated in the waiting room with some forms to fill out before stepping out to the foyer to use the payphone.

James fished the scrap of paper containing the number that Tony had finally agreed to give him out of his pocket. He dialed it three times. Each time, the call was picked up by the answering machine. On the third round, he left the Starks a brief message stating which hospital Tony was at and how they could contact their son, then hung up quickly before he could add anything else he might come to regret.

He reentered the waiting area to find Tony sitting hunched forward in his chair, breathing shallowly and clutching the small kidney-shaped basin that the triage nurse had given him like his life depended on it. “What’d they say?” he murmured. James wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard just a hint of hopefulness in the kid’s voice.

Without meeting Tony’s gaze, he slid into the seat beside him. “They didn’t answer,” he said guiltily.

Tony’s tone returned to flat: “Shocking.”

“They’re probably just asleep,” James reasoned, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “I left a message, but we can try again later.”

Tony hummed absently. Then all at once, he brought the small plastic container he was holding up to his mouth and threw up whatever little liquid remained in him. His hands were trembling so hard that James had to help him steady the basin.

When the heaving stopped, one of the nurses from the front desk exchanged the used basin for a clean one. Tony grunted in thanks, then looked up wearily and locked eyes with James. “You really don’ have to stay.”

James gave a tiny scoff. “What? You think I’d just leave you here to faceplant on the linoleum?”

Tony shrugged a bit. “‘S not like we’re friends, Jim.”

James pondered this for a few seconds before returning the shrug. “I guess you’re right.” He settled back in his chair and picked up a copy of Good Housekeeping from the stack on the waiting room table, flipping it idly open on his lap. “Too bad I’m invested now.”

X

It was around three a.m. by the time Tony’s name was called. He was taken back and briefly examined before getting hooked up to an IV line for fluids and antiemetics. The doctor ordered some bloodwork to be sure, but said that all signs pointed to a virus. As soon as they could get the vomiting under control and Tony’s vitals stabilized, he should be good to go.

While Tony dozed in and out of consciousness on the ER bed, fluids dripping steadily into his arm, James just sat there, silently mulling the events of the last sixteen hours or so over in his mind. It was weird seeing Tony like this—weak, and small, and just so undeniably young.

James waited until the clock struck five before slipping quietly over to the phone located near the nurse’s station. This time, he dialed a different number—one he knew by heart.

A familiar voice answered on the third ring: “Hello?”

Instant warmth flooded James’ chest at the sound. “Hey Ma,” he said softly.

“James?” His mother’s tone changed from puzzled to concerned in two seconds flat. “It’s so early, baby. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he assured, the corners of his lips turning up into the smallest of smiles. “Just wanted to catch you before you left for work.”

“Well, you got me,” she laughed lightly. Over the line, James could hear her bustling around the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug. “What do you need, baby?”

James hesitated a second, his gaze shifting back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “It’s nothing, just… I wanted to ask if I could invite someone home for Thanksgiving next week.” He shifted his gaze back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “I get the feeling he could really use it...”

Link to all my fics

[romeoryu]

me waiting until the last minute to write my intro post, forcing myself to rush through it all as quickly as possible despite having had days and days to write something detailed and thoughtful? it is more likely than you think. but anyways helo it me!!!! ur local admin aka kayla aka romeo’s mother and somehow also his worst enemy. heh. like i said, i’m gonna rush through this & try to make it cohesive as possible but forgive me if nothing makes sense adshjfdfh. like this to plot, or just hmu on my discord which is currently JAELENTINE’S DAY#8258 ( hbd yoonoh ilu )

— ( 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 & 𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞. ) oh my god look, it’s romeo ryu! he is a 23 year old actor from newark, new jersey. they were first associated with the met cartel 2 years ago, and the tabloids are always saying he is so audacious & evasive, but their stans on twitter say that he is actually really rougish & debonair. 

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐩𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧.

— 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅.

tw: drug abuse, death/overdose

— part i.

from the very beginning of his life, romeo ryu has struggled with trying to figure out where his place in the world is. he doesn’t remember much of his earliest years, time spent in a home with parents he can only remember in far away, hazy dreams. 

his parents were young, and in lust. he was never planned, or, in the end, wanted & ended up in the foster care system by the time he was two. for most of his life he bounced around from foster home to foster home, some good and some terrible, but none of them great. he held on to and undying hope that one day he’d stumble upon the family that wanted him, the parents that loved him and the childhood he dreamed of. but year in and year out it never came, and that hope began to burn out around his 13th birthday. 

stuck in the system, he had to grow a thick skin. there was no one at his back or there to defend him, and most of his foster families only cared about the monthly check they received in return for letting him sleep under their roofs. and in the end, that’s all it really was. a place to sleep and a couple free meals. aside from that he was on his own. 

college was never an option – there was no way in hell he could afford it, and by the time he was 16, he was sick of sleeping under strangers’ roofs. he dropped out of high school in order to pick up a handful of odd jobs and by the time he aged out of the system he’d saved up enough money to leave jersey and shove the little bit of shit he owned into a one bedroom apartment in the bronx with two other guys he’d found on craigslist. it was never ideal, but it was the only place he’d ever felt he could call his own. 

from bussing in shabby live music bars to over night shifts at the bodega and early morning opening hours at the public library, romeo kept himself busy. but no matter how many hours he worked or how tired he got, it didn’t keep him from falling into the wrong crowd. it started out as just a bit of fun, just a way to get out of his own head in the few hours of free time he managed to carve out in a week, the alcohol and the drugs were just a way to pass the time, a way to make his shitty, boring life a little less shitty. 

but then it got worse. then instead of saving money he was spending it all on whatever he could afford. instead of looking to move out he was struggling to keep up with rent. his days between 19 and 20 passed in a blur, until he was hit with a reality check one night in a friend’s basement unit, so high he still doesn’t really remember what happened. but he remembers the shaking body on the floor and the cold fear in his belly and the hand on his arm pulling him away and telling him they have to go. they don’t tell anyone, and they don’t talk about. still, romeo doesn’t know who found the body or how long it took for it all to be over. 

it’s not enough of a reality check to pull him out of the dark though, and his head really only surfaces enough to get his act together long enough to get the fuck out of his shoebox apartment and away from his annoying ass roommates. he packs up, fits all his things in a backpack and duffle bag and leaves the rest, and gets on a plane across the country. 

— part ii.

he wasn’t expecting much from LA, just a change of pace and better weather mostly, but he manages to strike gold when a stranger approaches him while he’s bartending and asks him if he’s a model. romeo tells him no and then the guys asks him if he’s an actor. and when romeo says no to that he asks what the hell he’s doing in LA, and if he wants to give any of it a try. romeo isn’t exactly keen, but he asks the guy how much he’s paying, and that’s the only convincing he needs. 

acting comes easy. it’s natural to him, finally letting out all those emotions he’s been choking on for years. and his face doesn’t hurt either. he shoots his first indie film when he’s 21, and walks his first red carpet ten months later. to say he catapulted into fame would be an understatement. he blinked and he had management agencies practically kicking his door down, had gained hundreds of thousands of followers in mere weeks, and was signed onto his first major hollywood film before he’d even bought a couch for his apartment. 

it was like whiplash, the way he tossed into the grasp of hollywood. but fuck, was it fun. and confusing, suddenly having fans and people that loved him and supported him. he had the face and the talent, but he didn’t have a celebrity personality. he stayed away from interviews and side projects and award shows (as much as he could at least), but he found it hard to stay away from the after parties and the one night stands and drugs. god, the drugs were good. 

fast forward to 22 and he’s made his first handful of friends, and has officially been associated with the met cartel. which brings us to today, or a few months ago. when he was fired off the set of his most recent film and his largest project to date for drug related issues. it’s his first huge scandal, and his second wake up call. this time though, he’s got a management team to clean it up & they shove him into rehab in an attempt to clean up both his image and his act. 

as of today, he is 0 days clean, but that’s no ones business but his own. he was released from his rehab program three weeks ago, and has since been trying to get find his footing again to no avail. he doesn’t really know what else there is for him to do outside of partying and sleeping with anything that has a pulse, especially now that he isn’t working 70 hours a week. but he’s figuring it out. kind of. not really. but again, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

— part iii.

personality wise, he’s a bit of an asshole. but it’s all just surface, typical defensive behavior. he doesn’t know how to be close to people or how have real feelings in a place that isn’t a movie set. which is why the drugs are his choice of hobby. he doesn’t know he’s supposed to be when he’s sober or how he’s supposed to move throughout the world. 

but beneath all that, if you manage to get past the exterior, romeo is a sensitive being. real Sad Boy hours. he takes a lot of things to heart (though he’ll never admit it) and he’s terrified of being alone or abandoned, which gets complicated. he likes to spend most of his time with people to avoid being lonely, but he doesn’t like to get very close to them in order to avoid being abandoned. so, that causes issues. 

outside of acting he’s into music and art. he spent a lot of time working in live music bars and went through a big emo phase when was a teen so he’s really into rock / screamo / punk / etc. and working in a library he read a lot and has an interest in history, particularly art history, and poetry. very artsy, very into the idea of artistic expression as a therapeutic practice mostly bc that’s what acting is for him. it’s the only way he can allow himself to feel entirely and unapologetically, which is why he’s so damn good at it. 

and uhhh this is sooo long so i’ll stop here but alsjkdfh yeah give me all the plots okay like co-stars, EXES, hook ups, bad influences!!, good influences, flirtationships, enemies, all of it. i’ll probably make an in depth list soon buuut this is hm for now!!! if you read this whole thing you are the mvp mwah.

[askdawnandvern]

A Lamb Among Wolves CH:3

Chapter Three: All Stood Up

The Rainbow Falls train station is known by Zootopia at large as 'The Gateway to the Meadowlands'." While there are many routes by car or on foot to venture into Zootopia's more northern districts, there is a significant lack of subway lines that venture beyond the steep mountains that separate the north and south. Some mammals chalk it up to the difficulties involved in mountain tunneling, while others believe it is due to the lack of economic incentive to tying The Meadowlands and Alpine Glade to the more bustling districts. Despite their relative size, the population is significantly smaller than the rest of Zootopia, and so difficult to build subway lines that would be rarely used and hard to maintain could be seen as a waste of money. The eventual answer to the transit problem was the creation of the "Rainbow Falls Rail Line", An above ground train that passes through the sole valley between the northern range into the upper districts. The line encompasses the North and South Meadowlands, Alpine Glade, and the northern outskirts of Zootopia. While not the only route, it is certainly the fastest for any traveler seeking to relax in the sprawling borderline country the Meadowlands has to offer.

Needless to say, visiting home was always more of a chore than Vernon thought it should be. With all the transfers and pick-ups it could become rather grating rather fast. It was at times like this he wished his family lived far enough away to simply visit by plane.

For Vernon the walk over to the Rainbow Falls station from the Haymarket terminal had been uneventful compared to the subway ride, but tiring none the less. The trip was always tiring, but it hadn't helped that the wolf had a rather rough nights sleep. After waking up to find Dawn nervously typing away on her laptop and attempting to ease her back to a comfortable sleep, the wolf was left to ponder over his own growing dread over the whole reunion affair. He wasn't nearly as nervous as Dawn, but was keeping up a brave front for her sake. Any show of weakness or worry might help spur the timid ewe into a full blown panic and that was the last thing he wanted. But as he lay there in the dark of the bedroom, cuddled up with his Honey Lamb, he couldn't help but ruminate on some of the ways the trip could go south.

His largest fear was having to deal with his brother Yuri. Vernon's Mother had already confirmed he would be showing up this year, along with Ada his Hyena mate. Yuri had always been a troublemaker, and that was saying something when Vernon reflected on his own muddied past. He always knew the perfect words to say to get under your pelt, a skill he had only honed with time. There was a snowballs chance in Sahara Square that Yuri was going to keep his yap shut when it came to Dawn. He was most definitely going to spend the entirety of the trip tormenting the lamb. If Vernon could barely contain the urge to hit him under normal circumstances, this was going to be a true test of willpower.

With Yuri he could only pray that at the very least the rest of the family would call him out on it, but that was rare. Most of them preferred to just try to ignore him. So if the wolf pushed Dawn too hard, it was going to be up to Vernon to push him back and keep Dawn's spirits up.

The other somewhat major concern was how his Father was going to react to Dawn. Much like Vernon's Mother, Dorian knew Dawn was coming as well as exactly who she was. But how he was going to handle it was another story. While Dorian was mostly easygoing, there were point of contentions with the older wolf which he refused to budge on. He could be stubborn at times, and his beliefs about certain issues were often set in stone. Vernon could remember the push back he got when he told Dorian he was going to study to become an architect rather than a police officer. Even now, despite Vernon having a position in the Architecture Department in City Hall his Father still believed that he would 'come around' and join the force.

Dorian's feelings on interspecies couples were reasonable, but with that came his staunch distaste and disgust for anything relating to prey or predator supremacy and the criminals who've worked to perpetuate such notions. Dawn's history with Night Howler, despite her best attempts to make up for it might not count for anything in his Father's eyes. But Vernon reassured himself that once he met Dawn, and could sense her sincerity as he did, that it would be all water under the bridge. At least, Vernon hoped. There were other concerns of course. Would his other brothers behave? how would their mates get along with Dawn? But they paled in comparison to those two looming issues which the thought of managed to steal enough sleep from the wolf to create the need nap on the subway, and even that hadn't quite been enough.

Vernon rubbed his eyes as he stumbled onto the busy train platform at Rainbow Falls, letting out a dull yawn as he dropped his green duffle bag to the floor. The wolf again stretched in a desperate attempt to wake himself up, before turning to the ewe he had in tow. Vernon had also been pulling Dawn's roller suitcase along. The ewe's suitcase easily doubled the size of Vernon's own bag, and was actually larger than Dawn herself. Despite the size it was an easy carry for Vernon, and he playfully insisted that the ewe seat herself on it and he would carry her up to the station which she agreed to gleefully. To the wolf it was worth it just to keep looking back and catching her silly grin as she enjoyed the ride.

"Last stop, everybody off." He chuckled.

Dawn beamed as she hopped of the suitcase, allowing Vernon to stand it up.

"Did you enjoy the ride my Queen?" Vernon grinned, his words laced with playful sarcasm.

The ewe gave the wolf a dull and un-amused stare.

"It was acceptable, now bring me a cluster of grapes as I have grown hungry." Dawn leaned her hoof on her head, feigning helplessness before breaking into a laugh.

"No, it was delightful."  She smiled weakly before faltering into a look of concern.

"Are you okay Vernon? You seem awfully tired." She asked. "Maybe carrying me was to-"

"Nah." The wolf assured. "I'm fine, I'm fine. You know I'm not a morning mammal." He snickered.

Despite his assurance, the concerned look didn't fully leave Dawn's face. As the ewe went to open her mouth, Vernon decided it was best to change the topic to the task at paw.

"Welp, let's see if we can spot Wade and his girl." Vernon sighed, turning his attention to the bustling stampede of mammals.

The wolf craned his head over the bustling crowd as best as he could to make out hide or hair of the dowdy grey little wolf that was his older brother Wade. The wolf was supposed to be already waiting for them, if the text Vernon had received a few minutes ago was anything to go by. Still he was having a hard time picking him out of the crowd.

"See him yet?" He heard Dawn over the murmur of the crowd.

"Nah." Vernon said, squinting as he held his paw over his eyes to block the glimmers of sun peering through the canopy overhead. "Shouldn't be to hard to find in his off duty clothes."

"Why, does he dress weird?" Dawn half shouted as the din of the crowed grew.

Vernon turned back to Dawn, crouching down to better hear her.

"No, but he always wears this hideous 'Tundratown Terrors' Baseball cap. He loves that thing." Vernon chuckled. "It's practically a rag at this point, but that bright blue should stand out like a sore thumb in all this."

"Why not try looking for him by finding his mate?" Dawn asked. "It's not exactly hard to find a giraffe right?"

The wolf hadn't thought of that. Wade had only been dating the cow for about a month now, and so Vernon hadn't become fully accustomed to associating the two. Vernon stood back up, glancing over the crowd again. He looked from side to side before crouching back down.

"There's about seven or eight giraffes walking around here. That narrows it down, but not by much." He gave the ewe a shrug.

"So call her over." Dawn replied. "W-what was her name, G-g-" Dawn scratched her chin, clearly trying to eke out the name.

"Giselle." Vernon stated.

"Yeah Giselle." Dawn clapped. "So just call her over and I'm sure Wade will be with her.

Vernon stood back up, giving the crowd another brief glance. With a deep breath, the wolf placed a paw to his mouth and began to call out.

"GISELLE!?" The wolf's eyes darted from long speckled neck to long speckled neck.

"GISELLE ZARAFáH!?" Again he called, adding the cow's last name. But not a single giraffe paid the wolf a single mind. Vernon got a few odd stares as the crowd continued to move around the couple, which he simply shrugged off.

"GIS-"

"EASY THERE PUPPY!" Vernon felt a firm paw grasp his arm, and turned to find Wade standing right next him. "You could have just called out to me you know." Wade chuckled nervously.

Wade was a somewhat smaller wolf than Vernon, as well as somewhat leaner. His physique clearly a reflection of a mammal who had to keep up at least a modest regiment in order to perform his job. His grey fur matched Vernon's, but lacked the white around the eyes and neck. He was dressed in the kind of worn out clothes Vernon expected. An old The Beagles' tee under a worn padded green fishermen's vest and blue jeans. And on top of it all off he was wearing the hideous blue hat Vernon had come to know quite well. The contrast between the shaggy, worn and faded sports cap and Wade's cloudy blue eyes was something the wolf seemed to think was a real eye-catcher when it came to 'the ladies'. Vernon agreed, but for entirely different reasons.

"Wade!" Vernon pulled the wolf into a hug and squeezed tightly. Between the Hunters, hugs were almost as much of a test of strength as a sign of affection. "Good to see ya! "

He could feel his brother's grip weaken first, signifying Vernon had bested him at the art of the brotherly hug before pulling away.

"Still wearing that old thing huh?" Vernon tapped the brim of is brother's cap.

Wade backed away from the rough prodding, caressing the brim affectionately with his own paw.

"Of course, I can't go to the reunion without this bad boy." Wade smirked.

"You remember Dawn." Vernon gestured to his beloved little ewe.

"Oh of course, eh." Wade scratched the back of his head. "Howdy again Ms. Bellwether."

Wade crouched slightly, extending his paw to the lamb. Dawn smiled, shaking Wade's hand gently.

"Wade, I told you before. You can just call me Dawn." She chuckled.

In the time that Vernon and Dawn had officially become an item, Wade had visited with the couple at least three or four times. He and Dawn had already formally met sometime ago when Wade took the three out to lunch roughly a week or so after Dawn got out of the hospital. Every time they had gotten together things seemed to go well, although Vernon noticed that Wade was rather stiff and awkward around the ewe. He wasn't sure whether this was due to Dawn's history, or Wade's natural awkwardness around prey-folk. Vernon knew Wade was somewhat fearful of scaring innocent prey.

"OH!, Yeah, sorry Dawn." Wade replied, wincing has he released her hoof.

"So where's Giselle?" Wade jumped slightly at Vernon's question, earning him a curious glance.

"Yes, yes, I can't wait to meet her." Dawn added.

"Oh...well um, she's." Wade looked over the crowd briefly. "She's around."

Wade seemed jumpier than usual. His eyes seemed to be darting around nervously, and he kept wincing in discomfort. Vernon knew something was up, and was about to ask about it when Dawn cut him off.

"Oh! You know what, I should get us all something to drink at that Snarlbucks stall before we get on the train to up north." The ewe smiled widely as she turned to Vernon.

"Puppy, what do you want?" She asked.

"Oh, tiger size black coffee, and just bring a whole bunch of sugars. I think I need the extra pep today." Vernon engaged Dawn, but continued to dart his eyes between his twitchy brother and the sheep.

"What about you Wade?" Dawn turned to face the other wolf. "You can order for Giselle right?"

Wade winced again.

"Erm..." Wade's voice cracked. " We're fine, U-um I mean-" The wolf coughed,  running a paw over his scalp. "Nothing for us I mean."

It was at this point Wade seemed to notice Vernon's stare, and the wolf could swear he saw Wade visibly gulp.

"Well, okay." Dawn seemed slightly disappointed. "I'll just get our drinks then." She flashed Vernon a final smile before taking off into the crowd toward the distant stall. With the ewe now out of sight, and definitely out of hearing range Vernon allowed his curious glance to fall into a more agitated glare. Now he was sure Wade was hiding something bad, and it was best to confront it now rather than let Wade hang himself.

"Alright spill it Wade." Vernon said bluntly.

"W-what!?" Wade jumped, taking a step back from the larger wolf.

"What's the bad news?" Vernon crossed his arms.

"I don't th-"

"Wade, we both know you are a terrible liar. That's why they never let you grill suspects." Vernon cut him off. "The quicker you get it out the easier it will be, so tell me."

Wade's head drooped in shame as he let out a prolonged and disappointed sigh.

"I-" Wade shook his head. "Giselle isn't coming along."

Vernon simply stared through the wolf. There was no way he had heard him correctly.

"What?' Vernon asked in disbelief.

"S-she's." Wade shrugged. "She couldn't make it this time around. I'm sorry, I-it was out of my paws."

Vernon could feel his stomach drop. This was not happening. Wade and Giselle were part of Vernon's deflection plan when it came to bringing Dawn home for the Harvest Festival. With both of them coming home with prey mates, the attention would be split between them giving both couples a bit of breathing room.

Without Giselle the pressure was going to fall solely on Dawn and Vernon, they being the only 'new' couple in attendance. While it would be annoying, Vernon was sure he could endure the scrutiny. But he was more worried about Dawn, and how she would fair under the constant spotlight of the Hunter brood.

"W-Wade." Vernon stammered slightly. The wolf glanced back toward the stall in an effort to spot the wayward ewe. He wiped his brow briefly before turning back to his brother.

"What are you t-telling me right now?" Vernon asked again. Hoping desperately for a different answer.

"It was a family emergency, she couldn't help-"

Vernon grasped his brother by the shoulders, giving him a slight shake.

"W-wade, Dawn is really worried about this." Vernon gulped. "I-I'm worried too, but I've been keeping a positive attitude for her sake." he shook his head. "I mean less worried, but still.."

Vernon allowed his head to hang in exasperation.  The floor seemed to spin as he tried to focus on the tile to get his bearings. With no real success the wolf looked back up at Wade.

"You were supposed to help us break the ice!" Vernon shook him with more vigor, nearly knocking his cap off. "With you and Giselle the family wouldn't focus so hard on me and Dawn."

"I know bu-"

"You two were supposed to keep them from dog-piling her!"

"I k-know I'm sorry, It can't be helped!" Wade stammered back.

Vernon released his brother, sighing as he placed a palm over his face.

"I don't want them to end up hurting her by accident." He drew his paw back over his scalp. "What if they grill her on her past she doesn't want to relive? She's technically an ex-con." Vernon shook his head.

"W-well she's not a child Vernon...I mean if they do talk about it-" Wade trailed off.

Vernon let out another sigh, slouching his shoulders in defeat.

"I know, I ju-" Vernon shook his head again. " I want her to have a good time, to feel welcome. I want them to get to know the Dawn I know, you know?" He eyed Wade pleadingly.

Wade nodded softly.

"How the hell am I gonna break this to her?" Vernon asked.

"Break what to who?" Vernon's blood froze. The wolf tried to turn toward the voice, but his body failed to move. Only his eyes managed to shift to the source of the call, falling on a familiar ewe holding a drink tray. Vernon grimaced.

"H-hey Honey Lamb." Despite his best efforts, the sentence came out shaky. "T-that was fast."

"Well they weren't that busy." Dawn smiled. The ewe raised the tray toward Vernon, the cup clearly too large for her to hand off on her own.

Vernon gingerly took the large cup from the tray, flashing Dawn a weak smile.

"Thanks Darlin'." Vernon grabbed a hand full of sugar packets off the tray as Dawn took it back.

"Oh, get this!" Dawn clasped at her purse with a free arm, giving it a jostle. "I got a text from Judy while waiting at the stall. Turns out Nick and her are heading out to Bunnyburrow for a festival too."

"R-really?" Vernon gulped slightly. "Same kind?"

"I think so, although she said it was called 'Carrot Days' or something." The ewe shrugged. "I think it's the same thing with a different name. But it's nice to know I'm not the only one meeting their mates family this weekend."

"I wonder how the Hopps will take that one." Vernon murmured.

"From what I heard they already met Nick, and Judy's Mother knows, but I'm not sure about her Dad." Dawn said.

"Good luck Mr.Hopps." Vernon smirked as he popped the lid off of his coffee. Even though Vernon and the fox were on somewhat acceptable terms, the wolf could only stand dealing with him in small doses. So Vernon couldn't began to imagine what having Nick as an in-law would be like. Vernon shuddered at the thought before pouring a few of the sugar packets into his piping hot coffee. As he idly stirred his drink, he decided to shift the conversation to the train before the ewe brought the conversation back to the missing giraffe.

"Well, we should probably get to the train. It should be heading out soon." Vernon muttered.

"What about Giselle?" Vernon dropped the new packet he was opening as Dawn spoke. He felt like an idiot. Of course, how could he avoid the subject of Wade's absent date as they boarded the train without her? Bringing up the need to get to the train was only going to beg the question. The wolf let out a defeated sigh. There was no way out of this, they had come to far to go back. Much like getting Wade to spill the beans, it was best to just get the truth out as quickly as possible. But Vernon was damned if he was going to be the one to bring her down. Vernon glanced at his brother, gesturing his head toward the ewe.

"Well, this is your fault, so why don't you tell my lovely little lamb the bad news." Vernon grumbled, taking a sip of his powerfully bitter coffee as he eyed Wade.

"My fault!?" Wade sputtered. "It was a f-" Vernon watched Wade turn to Dawn as the words died in his throat. Dawn was eyeing them both in utter confusion.

"What is going on?" Dawn asked. The ewe took a sip of her decidedly more frilly coffee drink, leaving a small dollop of whipped cream on her muzzle. "Did something happen?"

"Tell her Wade." Vernon gestured to the ewe again.

Wade scratched the back of his head. The wolf gave Vernon another unsure glance, only for Vernon to respond by once again gesturing toward Dawn.

"Well..." Wade muttered, seemingly struggling to get the words out. "I-I uh-."

Vernon could see the desperation in Wade's eyes as they continually glanced between him and Dawn. He knew just how much Wade hated making mammals unhappy, it was part of the reason why he ended up falling into a mediation role among the Hunter Brothers. Despite how agitated he was at Wade at the moment, the pity he felt for the stammering wolf inevitably overrode it.

Vernon sighed. "Giselle isn't coming Lamb Fry." Vernon stated bluntly as he crouched down to Dawn's level.

"W-what?" Dawn asked in shock.

Vernon gently wiped the little dab of whipped cream off Dawn's muzzle before gently caressing her face.

"I'm sorry Dawn, apparently she had a family emergency come up and she can't come along." The wolf's ears sagged. "So it's just us."

The ewe was silent for a moment, staring at the wolf in clear disbelief.

"T-that...really? She's n-not coming?" Dawn stammered.

"I'm sorry Floofs. I-"Vernon's slowly shook his head, but it became faster and more vigorous as he began to rethink the whole scenario. Despite the fact that he wanted Dawn to meet his family, with the sudden change in circumstance it would be unfair to ask Dawn to simply press on. They hadn't come too far to go back, and it was probably better if they turned tail now for Dawn's sake. Maybe they could meet his folks some other time, without the rest of the Hunter clan in tow.

"If you want me to just cancel this and we can go home, I ca-"

"N-no." Dawn stuttered.

Vernon eyed the ewe in surprise.

"Dawn, we don't have to-"

Dawn placed her coffee down and grabbed the sides of Vernon's muzzle, keeping his eyes trained on her. He could see a determination burning behind her shining lime green orbs.

"I'm not going to run away! I'm ready to do this!" Dawn stated firmly.

Vernon was shocked, but it didn't last long before a smile crawled across his muzzle and a chuckle escaped his maw.

"You absolutely sure now?" He grinned.

Dawn released his face, and as she picked up her coffee she gave the wolf a firm and decisive nod.

"Well, ain't she a tough little ball of fluff." Wade remarked.

As Vernon rose to his feet he flashed his brother a smug grin.

"Now don't you go getting too jealous, she's mine." Vernon said.

Dawn beamed in response, fluttering her eyes at Vernon affectionately. Wade let out an uneasy laugh before turning his attention to the rising din around the train station.

"Welp, we better get moving. Don't want to miss the train." Wade said.

Vernon began to cobble up the suitcases, doing his best to keep his coffee from spilling onto himself.

"Yeah, yeah, but don't think you're off the hook about Giselle. I expect a full explanation of this 'family emergency' on our ride out." Vernon stated as he began to dutiful march toward the train.

"Don't say it like that! You know I wouldn't lie about something so serious!" Wade retorted. Vernon could hear Dawn giggle.

It didn't take very long to get settled on the train. After helping Dawn up to her seat, Vernon stowed his duffle on the shelf above them and set the ewe's rolling case between his legs. Settling into his seat, he watched his brother wade sling his satchel bag on the seat next to him before sitting across from the pair. Wade still looked fairly uncomfortable, unable to properly meet Vernon's gaze whenever he looked his way. Dawn seemed alright on the surface, but Vernon could tell by the way she had latched on to his arm that she was still processing what the absence of Giselle spelled for the pair. The awkward and uneasy silence permeated until the train finally started moving. Wade began to watch the platform slide away from the window before finally finding the courage to speak.

"It really was last minute you know." Wade muttered.

"Hmm?" Vernon replied.

"Like it happened this morning." Wade finally managed to meet Vernon's gaze.

The wolf sighed, taking a sip of his pungent coffee. He could feel it starting to work it's magic as the groggy haze began to fade.

"Alright, so what happened." Vernon asked.

"Her father got into a car accident." Wade stated.

"Oh my goodness!" Dawn yelped. "Is he-"

Wade gestured for the pair to calm down. "Easy, easy! When I say car accident, it was only sort of one."

Vernon was so thrown off by Wade's description an odd chuckle escaped his muzzle.

"How does a mammal 'sort of' have a car accident Wade?" Vernon shook his head in disbelief.

"Well..." Wade scratched his head. "See it's like this."

"Giselle's Father is getting into his forties now, and he's kind of working through a mid-life crisis." Wade stated.

Vernon failed to suppress another snicker. He didn't want to laugh at the situation, but a mammal suffering from a mid-life crisis always seemed to lead to hilarious antics in a desperate attempt to feel young again. Vernon could already picture a slightly balding mammal in a shiny new sports car, trying desperately to come off as cool or hip. Although he had a hard time imagining a balding giraffe. After all, such a mammal was so tall how could one even check his hairline?

"Recently he bought a new car, some shiny open top sports car with red and black giraffe printing." Wade continued.

"Ha, I knew it!" Vernon smirked before feeling a jab at his side. Glancing down the wolf found Dawn eyeing him with slight irritation.

"Hush Puppy, let him finish." She chided.

"Thank you." Wade muttered.

Vernon turned back to his brother, nodding at him to continue.

"Well...he was on his way to work this morning in the new car. He had the top down, and was driving way faster than he should have been." Wade sighed. "While chatting on his cell phone no less."

Vernon simply nodded, keeping his face as stoic as he could.

"That's illegal isn't it?" Now Dawn was interrupting Wade.

"Yes, definitely." Wade nodded. "Anyway, he wasn't paying attention and turned onto the wrong road. Are you both familiar with Pack  Street?"

Vernon simply nodded.

"Wait a minute, Pack Street?" Dawn asked. "That road isn't zoned for large mammal traffic."

"Exactly." Wade pointed at Dawn. So he's speeding with his top down, and he doesn't realize the lamp posts on Pack Street are lower than on his usual route, and so-"

"Oh no!" Dawn gasped.

"He hit a lampost?" Vernon inquired.

"More like the lamp post hit him." Wade drew his paw up to his throat, gingerly bringing it against his neck. "Poor guy clothes-lined himself going fifty miles an hour."

"Sweet Sawgrass, is he alright?" Vernon murmured in shock.

"He bruised his trachea, and did some pretty heavy damage to his larynx. But Giselle texted me that he'll recover." Wade sighed. "Still she wanted to stay until he was discharged, so that messed up the whole weekend plan."

"Well, maybe she could still join us after he gets out?" Vernon asked hopefully.

Wade shook his head dismissively. "That's pretty unlikely, the poor guy isn't even awake yet. They'll probably keep him till at least Monday."

Vernon heard Dawn let out a sigh before feeling her lean harder into him. Looking back at her he could see she felt bad for Giselle's Father, but there was still the hint of lingering fear painted on her face. Vernon gently patted the poof on her head in an effort to put her at ease.

"Hey Honey Lamb?" Dawn managed to look up at him, her once determined glare looking a little more shaky and unsure. "Remember what I said, if anything goes wrong we'll leave. You're my top priority." Vernon gave her a reassuring smile.

"There's really nothing to worry about." Wade added. "I can tell already Ma is going to love you."

"R-really?" Dawn mumbled, now turning her attention to Wade.

"Oh yeah, trust me." Wade smiled. "Your probably got the best shot out of all of the girls at getting along with her. I may not have known you for too long, but you remind me a lot of Ma."

"Let's not be to hasty there Wade." Vernon chuckled uneasily, the wolf was slightly averse to the idea of comparing Dawn to his Mother.

"Nah I can see it. Dawn's gentle and kind. But she can be surprisingly tough when it comes down to it. I mean look at what she did at the Wine Factory. Ma would have done something like that if she were in Dawn's hooves." Wade gestured to Dawn.

"Wade, that's so sweet. Thank you." Dawn smiled.

Despite the fact that Vernon didn't really want to acknowledge any similarities between his Mother and the ewe he planned on marrying, he couldn't help but smile at Wade's sudden praise of her. This was the most outspoken he'd seen Wade be over what he really thought about Dawn, even in private talks with Vernon.

"I just...I had to fight for the ones I loved. I couldn't let Ver-" Dawn shook her head briskly. "I mean everyone get hurt because of me. I just..." Dawn paused. "I did what I had to."

"And that's exactly how Ma is." Wade assured. "She gets tough when it comes to those she loves." Wade smiled.

"And I think you've shown us just how much you love 'ol Puppy over there, so of course she'll love ya." Wade gestured to the larger wolf.

Vernon laughed. "That's true." He pulled the lamb into a side hug.

"You two both love me, so ya got that much in common." Vernon grinned.

"I don't know..." Dawn muttered. "I mean...I can't give her grandpups or anything like that."

"Neither can the rest of us." Wade chuckled. "'Cept for maybe Ulric..." He trailed off. "Or me if things don't work out with Giselle." The wolf place his hands on his knees. "I suppose if worst came to worst Ma and Pop would just have to have more pups of their own."

"What about your Dad?" Dawn asked innocently. "Surely he'd mind me being with Vernon."

Wade's grin faltered slightly. "W-well I think he'd take to you just fine." He coughed awkwardly. "I-I mean he knows a good mammal when he sees one, I mean w-we all do don't we Vern?"

Vernon nodded weakly, but inside his previous fears came rolling back to the forefront. Just how was his Father going to handle Dawn? Would he be able to look past her previous transgressions and see that she was truly changed? Vernon gulped slightly at the thought, the last thing he wanted was his Father to hurt her. It was apparent that Dawn was probably thinking the same thing as he felt her grip around his arm tighten.

"W-what about the others?" Dawn mumbled.

The grin quickly returned to Wade's face. "Oh the other brothers? You got nothing to worry about." Wade prattled off. "They're mostly harmless and anything they do that's outta turn their ladies will keep them in-line."

"You won't even meet most of them till tomorrow anyway." Vernon shrugged. "Zach and Vanna are the only ones who live near the ranch. The rest of 'em live to far away to make the trip in one day."

"Yeah, so you'll get a chance to settle in and get to know all of us a little bit at a time." Wade added. "That way it won't be so overwhelming, you know?"

Vernon could feel the tension in Dawn's grasp begin to ease. While the plan to distract the family with Wade and Giselle had fallen through, at the very least Wade was good at helping Vernon keep the ewe calm. The better Dawn felt, the better Vernon did.

"T-that sounds good." Dawn mumbled.

"That'a girl." Vernon smiled, squeezing Dawn into another hug. "I told you everything will be okay."

Dawn smiled back up at the wolf a genuine smile, free of any lingering hint of fear. Vernon could feel his heart flutter at the sight. Seeing the ewe smile was something that could never get old for him. As Vernon turned his attention to the mountains rolling past the windows he took a sip of his now repulsively cold coffee, and for a brief moment he felt as though everything was back on track.

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

Zootopia won best animated feature at the Oscars! Woo! Congrats to the whole team. Also some people pointed out getting clothes-lined by a lampost at (70 miles an hour in the first draft) 50 miles would kill someone. I lowered to fifty afterwards, but my reasoning is we have a giraffe with larger and stronger neck muscles hitting a smaller lamppost that immediately fell apart on impact wouldn’t kill the giraffe. I don’t know I’m probably wrong...maybe I should just re-write that part.

-WT 

[dustoffthearchives]

Of Gods and Monsters

(Read  Chapter One)

Chapter Two: Anywhere Out There

Training was what it was. Alice was the sort of person that threw herself completely into whatever she was doing; as a biotic, she had a similar regimen to all of the other enlisted peoples for the majority of her day and specific, additional training for her specialty in addition to her regular training. She was good with a pistol, but they wanted more from her. They wanted her to be the best – with a pistol, serviceable with most other weapons, in hand-to-hand, and with her abilities. Additionally, she wanted to deliver on the promise she had made to herself when she signed up.

She was going to make something of herself; she wasn’t going to be a good-for-nothing orphan on the streets of Earth. Her name may have been made-up, but everyone would recognize it someday.

While there were specific commanding officers assigned to the training of the few biotics amongst the ranks of the Alliance, Alice was rarely content with the simplicity of what she was being offered.

There was a guy, a Service Chief as far as she knew, with dark hair and a Canadian accent that worked as a sort of secondary teacher to her class of three.

In the mess, or what served as one on the Citadel, Alice was fairly aware that she wasn’t meant to sit with the NCOs. So she settled into her spot on the edge of a long bench of enlisted men and women, eating and chatting mildly with those around her. She bided her time until she saw Service Chief Alenko stand from his position, tray in hand, and make to take care of his things.

After a moment of hesitation, she excused herself and did the same. She followed shortly behind him before jogging up to him, catching him gently by the shoulder in the hallway.

“Sir,” she smiled a little, taking her hand back almost immediately. She was good at pretending; she was one of the best. But even the best aren’t perfect. “Sorry about that, I just wanted to make sure I caught you. I was wondering, if you have time, if you wouldn’t mind helping me?”

“I’m sorry…Private Shepard, isn’t it?”

Alice nodded, fingers against her forehead in her salute when she remembered herself.

“What is it that you think I can help you with? Oh…at ease, Shepard.” Service Chief Alenko smiled softly, eyes wrinkling at the outer edges with the gesture.

The redhead smiled and let her arms fall to her sides, standing with an easy stance that mirrored his. “I want to practice more with my biotic abilities. Outside of training, I mean.”

“Do you feel as though Lieutenant Sasaki’s teachings are insufficient, Private?”

“Oh, no, not particularly, Sir. I just want more. I can train my body on my own without too much worry for the repercussions, have my form corrected in training drills. But with the biotics? I spent most of my time before joining the Alliance working on my own. I don’t know that I have anything else to teach myself, and I’m a little afraid to try my hand at experimenting on my own.”

He seemed to take a long moment to mull over the possibility before his smile returned, “I’ll have to get clearance first, of course.”

Alice did her best to keep her grin in check and nodded. “Of course, sir. I understand. Even if you can direct me towards books or things I might be able to read, to help?”

“Do you mind if I ask why, Private?”

“I don’t mind, Sir,” Alice shrugged, even though internally she did mind. Her reasons were her own and they always had been – but she couldn’t expect something for nothing, that she knew all too well. “I have a duty, Sir. A duty to the Alliance and to myself to be the best version of myself I can.”

“You’ve already made better progress than most, Shepard. Private First Class with whisperings of Corporal, only a year and a half into your service. That’s impressive.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’m just trying to do my best for the Alliance.”

“Just make sure you don’t burn yourself out, then, eh Shepard? One person can only take so much before they’ve had enough, you know?”

The way he said it made Alice curious; there was something behind his dark eyes that made her guess that he had probably had enough at least once in his life. It was gone pretty quickly though and he smiled again, this time it didn’t reach his eyes. He clasped a large, warm hand on her shoulder very briefly.

“Aye, Sir,” she nodded, saluting him briefly before she turned and made her way to the equipment room. Train until lights out, or as good as – a lot of the other enlisted would go about the Citadel in their “free time” but Alice, as much as she liked the idea of meeting some more aliens, felt like her dedication to her success was more important at the time. Besides, she imagined she would be meeting plenty other races in the future. Or, at least, she hoped as much.

It was another week before Service Chief Alenko asked Alice to stay after the training, delaying her from her shower as the other two in her class made their way to wash off their sweaty exhaustion. Juniper and Demetrius, both older than Alice had said she was, were talented biotics with the L3 implants as well.

“Private Shepard, I wanted to speak to you regarding your previous request.”

Alice stood at rest, having only just emptied the contents of her water bottle down her throat, turning her attention back to her superior.  

“I’ve spoken to Lieutenant Sasaki as well as your commanding officer. They’re both in agreement that, as long as I create weekly reports on your progress, I may assist you. It would be to your benefit if we had someone available with an L3, but I will do what I can.”

“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

It appeared to Alice that Service Chief Alenko seemed to be suppressing the urge to laugh or roll his eyes, which one she couldn’t be certain. “Granted, of course.”

“I’d prefer not to have an implant at all. I didn’t have one until I joined the Alliance and I have to say, I don’t like how it feels. The headaches are worse with it, that’s for sure.”

Kaidan seemed mildly taken aback with her statement, mostly the candor with which she spoke to him. “How much do you know about the L2 implants?”

“As much as I could find, which is to say not much. I like to read,” she blushed a little, as if this information was something she wouldn’t normally share. Which both was and wasn’t true; if she had said it as a part of the persona she had built upon joining the Alliance, it would be one thing but it wasn’t, it had been shared as a truth of who she really was. “I know they’re dangerous. The implants, I mean. And it’s dangerous to upgrade them.”

“I get headaches,” he offered, gesturing slightly to his head. “Migraines, the doctors call them. I got lucky. Really lucky. Some biotics with the L2 go insane.”

“Not to make light of your situation, but I’m fairly surprised I haven’t with this thing in my head. Does yours itch all the time?”

Kaidan made a face at her question, not because he was offended but because he was concerned. He knew there were many different reactions to the implants, but something so consistent could be an issue. “It doesn’t seem to be hampering your abilities, at least. You’re already quite developed for someone with so little professional training. What you can do is more than they usually expect from someone with a L3.”

“I think that’s why I get the headaches, honestly,” Alice shrugged a little, shoving her water bottle in her bag and slinging the duffle over her shoulder. Her stomach rumbled in the relative silence before she continued. “It’s like a suppression.” Her green eyes slid to him in a glance before she offered a half-smile. “But what do I know.”

“Probably more than you give yourself credit for, Shepard. Hit the showers, we can start training tomorrow.”

“When?”

“After dinner. You’ll get another ration of protein bars for afterward. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, Private.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Alice grinned, tipping her head before throwing off a salute and heading towards the communal showers.

Five months of intense practice, training, and workouts passed with a few breaks for small excursions as a part of the Alliance military. At a month shy of two years of service, Alice was brought forward in a ceremony of her peers and superiors to be granted a boost in rank.

Newly-made Corporal Shepard was given leave two weeks shy of her two year mark and with little hesitation, took the offer of two weeks of leave before what would be her first long-term mission.

With the whole of the universe, give or take a few pockets of space, at her fingertips Shepard took her time to decide where she wanted to go. By the time she had decided and booked transport, she had a week left to spend on Elysium.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Alice had ended up choosing a fairly common vacation spot for humans and aliens alike – although, she reminded herself, she really needed to quit referring to other races as ‘aliens’. It wasn’t really accurate, was it? She found herself scanning the faces of those onboard the transport, wondering idly if the C-Sec officer she had met when she first arrived on the Citadel took vacations.

She hadn’t managed to run into him but once in the eleven and a half months she’d spent on the space station, and even that was nothing but a little half-wave from across the Presidium. She had been walking with Demetrius and Juniper in a rare afternoon she actually took off from her over-exertion, mostly just taking in the sights around them.

He didn’t appear to be anywhere she could spot on the ship and so she settled back into her seat, closing her eyes and folding her arms over her chest as she waited for them to dock at Illyria.

Sometime later, Alice stood with a yawn after the ship had been all-but deserted. Rolling her head across her shoulders, she tugged her Alliance-issued duffle out from its hiding spot and draped it over her shoulder. It bounced against her hip after she hit the dock and she blinked, a few feet out of the way, to look up at the new sky.

Grinning to herself, Alice returned her gaze to the space in front of her and made her way to find something to eat.

She sought out, rather intentionally, a restaurant that catered to dextro-based foods. One of the things she had done to herself in a sort of training was putting dextro-based foods into her diet. The first few weeks, she had been pretty ill as a result of it and had spent plenty of her own money on both the alien food and replacement for what she had expelled as a result of eating it.

She had done a lot of research about the difference in the food types, going so far as to submit herself to a voluntary allergen test with the Alliance to determine just how dangerous forcibly ingesting the stuff might be. As it so happened, she had no real reaction to the D-amino acids and she believed the reason she reacted so poorly to the food was the same reason a life-long vegetarian would react poorly to eating meat.

While Elysium was a human colony, it was a vacation spot for many different races – among them being quarian and turian, although the latter was more common than the former. This being said, the dextro restaurant seemed to be the only option for such fare in the general vicinity.

Alice also happened to be the only human within twenty feet of it.

She entered with her most relaxed but confident stance and scanned the room to determine if she was to seat herself or wait for someone to direct her to a spot. She determined the latter was the way to go and so waited, shifted her bag a little and sliding her hands into her pockets.

“Are you lost? Can I help you?” the flanging voice of a male turian, higher in pitch than she would ever expect from someone so tall, caught her attention as she had been scanning some of the decorations.  She couldn’t read the language it was written in, something that mildly irritated her. She didn’t like not knowing things.

Smiling at him when she straightened, she nodded a little. “I’d like a seat, please? A table. I hope the bag isn’t a problem, I just docked.”

“I…I don’t mean to be rude, but you do know this is a dextro-only restaurant, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled a little, trying to mirror his body language as best she could. She watched his mandibles for anything that reminded her of what she had seen on the C-Sec officer’s face. “I’ve found myself with a taste for it.”

“Are you…you’re human, aren’t you?”

“I am. Don’t worry, I’m not allergic. I swear, you’re not putting me in danger by seating me. If you’d rather I leave, though…?” Alice offered, making sure that her tone suggested absolutely no offense whatsoever.

“Oh, no, that’s…that’s fine, it’s just…well, to be honest with you, it’s strange,” he made a sound that echoed like laughter and she noted the mandible flicker like the officer’s. What was his name? Charis? Shit.

“Strange I can handle,” she grinned at him as he turned his back to lead her towards an oddly shaped stool-like seat at a long, high bar.

“Is this all right? I’m Rilak, by the way.”

Alice moved passed his extended arm with a duck of her head, tucking her bag on the floor below where her feet would end up. She was a little awkward climbing up onto the stool and was fairly certain she heard the same trilling noise under Rilak’s breath that had layered his laugh before, but she couldn’t blame him. She imagined she looked pretty ridiculous trying to get onto that stool, but she managed.

With a grin, she put her hands on the edge of the counter and turned to look back at him. “Looks like it might be. Have you got mulsym here?”

Rilak’s eyes narrowed at her and Alice thought, for a moment, she had severely miscalculated the acceptance of the waiter. His mandibles fluttered in the approximation of a smile again and he nodded. “Yeah, yeah we’ve got it. Do you need a menu?”

Alice shook her head, “No, I’d like to try whatever your chef wants to cook. If that’s all right, I mean.”

“I…yeah, probably. Zersa likes to experiment.”

When Rilak wandered away, gently shaking his head, Alice wasn’t sure if he always sounded so incredulous or if it was entirely her doing. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter.

As she rolled her shoulders, finding a comfortable sitting position on the stool, she heard what she recognized as the turian language without a translator in the distance. She wondered briefly if hers was on the fritz but checked her Omni-tool and realized that it had been an active decision of the members of the other race to block it.

That seemed a little rude, she thought with a small frown. Shrugging to herself in her solitude, she scrolled through the news that displayed in the air above her arm. A message pinged into her inbox and she was typing a reply to it when another turian approached from the other side of the counter, a little shorter than Rilak. Where his skin and plates were more of a gray-green color, the new turian was a deep rust color – although both of them had markings on their face in white, where the officer she thought had had blue. This one’s face looked more slender and their head lacked the sort of extended not-hair that Rilak and the officer had.

When they spoke, Alice identified that this one was most definitely a she.

“Rilak told me that you were here but I had to see for myself.” She made a noise that sounded like surprise and her mandibles fluttered in a movement that was unfamiliar to the human. “I’m Zersa and this is my restaurant. You are the first human that has actually ordered food here. We’ve had a few stop in, but they don’t usually last long.”

Alice let out a laugh, one she hoped didn’t sound half as self-conscious as she felt. She was used to strange looks on the Citadel for her food choices, but she usually got away with it. No one really seemed to like humans, especially turians – but they liked money, regardless. “I’m Alice,” she leaned over and extended her arm in an approximation of what the officer had shown her all that time ago. The expression Zersa wore in that moment was easily recognizable as surprise as she scanned the human, hesitating only briefly before she completed the gesture.

The human pressed her newly-painted nails (she was on vacation!) against the sleeve that covered Zersa’s elbow and the turian responded, the pressure very gentle but the talons were sharp. They weren’t blunted by caps like most of those on the Citadel and she could’ve easily drawn blood, had she been so inclined.

Zersa put her three-fingered hands down on the surface of the bartop when they had separated and looked at Alice for a moment before her mandibles spread in what Alice knew was a smile. “It’s good to meet you, Alice. How long are you on Elysium?”

“Just a few days. On leave,” she tugged at her dog tags to suggest she was Alliance. “I’m based on the Citadel right now, but I’m supposed to ship out when I get back.”

“Well, you’re welcome here any time you like, you hear me? And I’ve got some family on the Citadel. I’ll send word, see that they treat you well.” Alice couldn’t identify the expression that Zersa showed her but it made her feel accepted so the young woman smiled.

“Thank you, very much. I appreciate that. I’ll be sure to tell any dextro friends I meet about this place.”

A low purring noise sounded from Zersa and that same smile movement preceded her turning around, moving back to the kitchen. Rilak returned with the mulsym and Alice sipped it happily in silence, silently thanking the C-Sec officer for his help.

By the time she was mostly done with her food, she had cultivated quite an audience. When the corporal left Zersa’s – she insisted on paying because it was really, genuinely delicious although the owner refused to let the human pay for the dessert she pushed into Alice’s hands. The redhead was glad she had taken the plunge and tried the place on a whim, feeling full and happy as she wandered back onto the streets of Illyria with her bag hefted over her shoulder.

She stopped a few paces away from the front door of the restaurant and took a moment to look up at the sky, inspecting the differences in the stars from where she stood.

“What the fuck…” shr breathed, narrowing her green-gold eyes at the brightness of something entering the atmosphere in the distance.

A big something.

Lots of bit somethings.

She set the dessert on my bag as if it was a shelf and brought up her Omni-tool, searching for information on shipments. There was no such thing expected.

The Alliance officer sent off a quick message to her commanding officer, hoping he would check it, about multiple unidentifiable ships entering the atmosphere with no traceable orders before she picked the dessert from its spot and shoved it in among her clothes. Alice turned back to the restaurant and stood still for a moment, spotting Zersa.

The human couldn’t be bothered to consider how rude it might be – she took her longest possible strides across the floor to find Zersa, calling her name to interrupt her conversation. The turian turned immediately and looked at Alice with the plates above her eyes that essentially served as eyebrows lifted.

“I need to speak to you in private, immediately. Please.”

Zersa scrutinized Alice briefly before the taller being nodded once and excused herself from the table of a small turian family, leading with a hand on Her shoulder back into the kitchen.

“What’s this about?”

“There were, from what I could see, eight ships coming into the atmosphere on the northern side of the city. There are no shipping records. I’ve sent a message to my commanding officer, but I think we need to-”

The restaurant shook with an impact outside, throwing the turian into a shelving unit full of pans. Alice reached for her, offering the other female a hand to help her stand – Zersa gripped Alice’s wrist too tightly and pierced a line on the outside of the pale, freckled forearm.

She apologized profusely and the redhead shook her head, wiping the blood on the leg of her own pants. “It’s fine, Zersa. It’s the least of our worries. Tell everyone you can to find whatever weapons they can and get everyone in here that can’t fight to hide…Turn the air off in the freezer and put the kids in there, it should be safe, right?”

“What if it it’s nothing?”

“Then I’ll let you know. I’ll be right back.”

“What if it’s something?” she reached out for the huma but stopped her hand short of the thinner shoulder, eyes shifting to the blood forming along the wound again.

Alice reached for oddly-shaped hand, so different from hers in both purpose and appearance, and pressed it into her arm. “I’ll be right back. Trust me.”