#nuclear power accidents? oh no it doesn’t work like that

[kudzucataclysm]

i'm very new here, would it be okay to ask of you to infodump about "dez"? they seem very blorbo material and i'm curious :3 (if not i'll totes understand if you wanna keep things hush-hush due to spoilers lol)

OFC ILL INFODUMP ABT DEZ DEAR ANON HE'S MY BOY

his names Desmond O. Arkady and he’s the main protag of SE and is…tbh the only normal person out of the entire cast. he’s just a normal superpower-less kid who gets involved in world altering events on accident becuz everyone else is mean to him and likes using him cuz he craves validation and can’t say no :( unfortunately for all the ppl who like pushing him around, he’s got extremely serious, repressed anger issues (due to his dad's emotional/verbal abuse and his mom abandoning the family) and is eventually pushed beyond his breaking point which at some point involves making a nuclear bomb so. good work guys-

he’s also super fucking smart and loves everything to do with science even tho he isn’t too good at math. he excels at biology and chemistry and likes to take home dead animals to cut open and look at. he also practices necromancy- he’s a distinguished little victor frankenstein just. one who doesn’t steal dead bodies v-v he particularly likes reviving dead cats (one of which becomes a supporting character at a later point) but other than natural sciences he's pretty adept at taking things apart and putting them back together. he can look at a radio and know exactly how it works and what the components are that make it function. he also loves fun facts and will randomly drop them on people, especially morbid ones that he finds 'funny and interesting' but isnt to others :( so while he's pretty intelligent he doesnt do well socially which resulted in him being bullied VERY badly when he was younger but he tries to take everything in stride....even tho he almost drowned once becuz of it and one other time almost beat someone unconscious during one of his 'rage blackouts' (he definitely fucking cried for like 3 days straight after that even tho he doesnt rmm)

while relatively normal he’s related to like, arguably the most powerful person in the world which is something he’s super unaware of. he’s the heir to a shit ton of scientific endeavors and intended future owner of ALL ANDROIDS. but again he’s unaware of this so when “certain things” tend to happen to him or around him he just tends to brush it off and doesn’t think it concerns him. the person who he’s related to, Lupe, is struggling to get into contact with him cuz 10 years ago she astral projected so hard she caused her subconscious (i’m not explaining) to time travel so. she’s just been in a coma for a long while annnnd she very much might never wake up again so OH WELL looks like her TRILLION DOLLAR FORTUNE is just in fucking limbo for now >:/

hmm what else..very much a people pleaser, he's got this really weird inclination to freak the fuck out if he thinks people don't like him- he also ignores a lot of his feelings?? like if he feels anything intense other than happiness he's prone to crying fits and throwing up which his bodyguard francis thinks is INSANE and STUPID. despite ppl treating him like shit he's genuinely a very hopeful person and loves the world and everything that takes up space in it. like he tries to and does see the good in everything and while the events of the story kinda wear down on him he ultimately doesn't think humanity or Martiankind deserves pain and/or suffering; he persistently keeps a strong sense of justice/morality and thinks that anyone or anything is ultimately capable of good.

hrrrrm thats all i can seem to say off the top of my head for now...anyway yeah he's literally the best :3 like out of the entire cast of SE he's definitely the guy the root for imo v-v

waaaa but tysm for the q

[artbyblastweave]

So a story I’ve been fucking around with on and off is an alternate history superhero thing where the Big-name Superman analogue could be accurately described as “Good-aligned Homelander.” 

He’s a total boyscout American icon when the cameras are rolling, and the absolute second nobody is watching he immediately defaults to batshit-violent terroristic actions against United States government officials, exclusively on issues where any reasonable person would go, oh, Mood. Kidnapping and Dangling FDR over the Atlantic Ocean until he agrees not to sign Executive Order 9066, and then returning him to a press conference none the wiser. Busting up Los Alamos, spinning the Manhattan project as something a supervillain cell was developing, and forcing the US spin machine to go along with it, and similarly scuppering all government attempts to weaponize nuclear power. Infiltrating a Klan meeting in plainclothes and blendering a quarter of their American Membership. Maybe not these exact things, I’m gonna have to think it out a lot more thoroughly to avoid stepping in anything,  but, like, heading off the historical atrocities of the American Establishment we all know and loathe through the power of incredible violence, and by the 1960s he’s functionally running the government because you can only remain alive in a government position of import if he hasn’t come up with a specific reason for you to have an accident. 

And important to the dynamic here is that he’s goddamn creepy about it, his demeanor never changes, he goes from disaster relief to stopping a car chase to punting J. Edgar Hoover into orbit with the exact same chipper leave-it-to-beaver energy, spouting corny one-liners. If you’re another superhero and you spend any amount of time with him, you very quickly realize that he doesn’t seem to really mentally assign any weight to the horrible retributive action’s he’s meting out, this isn’t a “dirty deeds for the greater good” situation, he just doesn’t seem to have the metaphorical “gag reflex” about inflicting pain and terror and deceit in situations where you’d want someone to have qualms even if violent intervention is necessary. And I figure a lot of this is stemming from extremely specific ideas he has about the nature of power, that power should be used exclusively to help people and fight against evil, and if you’re using your power- social, physical or supernatural- to hurt people, it’s open season until all is right with the world. Any violence he commits within that framework just doesn’t fuckin’ register to him as something anyone should object to, although he’s not an idiot, he’s smart enough to know people will object to it, for some weird reason, and so he works to cover his tracks. 

And you know, this leads to a quiet split among his confidants, between people who’re deontologically like, “no, murder is bad, and the fact you’re covering it up demonstrates you have no real faith that the public will embrace your ethics, and if they don’t embrace your ethics you aren’t actually building anything, be what you’re pretending to be and use your soft power with the American public to enact actual democratic change” and “Fuck that, tell everyone exactly what you’re doing, blow the lid on all of it, stop trying to have your cake and eat it too because you’re fundamentally reinforcing the party line by handling all of this stuff quietly instead of showing the public the rot at the heart.”

This is not actually the main thrust of the story; this is actually closer to a plot twist, something that comes to light well after someone figured out a way to kill him and most of the other “greatest generation” superheroes via an Old-Man-Logan-style supervillain coup that the government looked the other way on. A big reason I haven’t really delved into this one yet is that I think it would require me to have, like, a concrete stance on whether I think this is a good or a bad thing for a Superman knock-off to be doing, and it’s tough! It’s tough. A big part of me is so seduced by the idea of the chickens coming home to roost for the entrenched ghouls and spooks and warmongers, and a big part of me is also of the opinion that this kind of strongman violence is inherently bad even if carried out perfectly and consistently in line with a single person’s conscience.

 But I do, fundamentally, think it would be an interesting thing for a Superman knockoff to have been doing. I haven’t seen it done.

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 2) Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: I Didn’t Bet on My Life, that Would Be Stupid. I Bet on My Health

            “Uriel is here?” Amenadiel frowned and began pacing.

            “Pleasant aroma and all,” said Lucifer.

            “And he’s after (Y/N)?” Amenadiel was disappointed in his brother’s use of a child’s life against Lucifer.

            “If he doesn’t get that classy bitch you call ‘Mom,’ ” said Maze. She had returned when she found out (Y/N) was in danger. She liked the kid and wanted to protect them. “You made a deal with Daddy. Time to pay up.”

            “Uriel can come after celestial beings like us, yes, but angels aren’t allowed to kill humans,” argued Amenadiel. “(Y/N) should be safe.”

            “Yes, but remember, dear brother, Uriel can play with patterns. He can make a butterfly flap its wings, and a housewife gets chlamydia,” said Lucifer.

            Amenadiel’s eyes widened. “Or (Y/N) nearly gets in a car accident.”

            “Correct, for ten points,” snarked Lucifer.

            “Well, too bad there isn’t an easy way to make this all go away,” said Maze sarcastically. “Oh, wait, there is. Send your mom back to Hell. A solution which you will avoid.”

            “Well, worry not, because Uriel will not be a problem,” said Lucifer. “We have a nuclear weapon.”

            “Good, because I don’t know how much longer I can keep watching (Y/N),” said Emeranne, entering the room. “They’ve tried to ditch me about a dozen times today, and with all the strange ‘coincidental events’ happening around me, I’m surprised they haven’t ended up in a hospital.”

            “Luci, what weapon do we have?” asked Amenadiel.

            “You, of course,” said Lucifer. “Uriel doesn’t know that we’re working together on this. We all know he won’t listen to me. But he will if its someone from the home team. So, you will go and convince him that he needs to go back. Or, you know, just punch him in his smug face. Dealer’s choice.” Lucifer grinned. ��God, it’s nice having a super powerful angel on your side, isn’t it?” He patted Amenadiel on the shoulder. “Emeranne, I’ll take over monitoring (Y/N).”

            “Finally,” said Emeranne.

            “You two don’t like each other?” asked Amenadiel. “You’re both so…Well, you’re similar.”

            Emeranne scowled. “Unfortunately, that’s what makes them difficult. I told them to be careful, and they said they bet twenty bucks that they’d get through the day without a scratch.”

            “Did you talk them out of risks like that?” asked Amenadiel worriedly.

            “No, I told them that they owed me twenty if they got hurt, and they’d have to tell Lucifer it had nothing to do with me,” replied Emeranne, shrugging.

l

            Lucifer nearly lost his mind when he heard a “crap!” followed by a crash. Bolting out to the kitchen, he nearly tripped and hit the ground when he had to narrowly avoid stepping on a red marble. Poor (Y/N) obviously had since they were lying on the ground, and next to them was the entire knife holder from the counter they had tried to grab to remain standing.

            Lucifer narrowed his eyes. Once again, Uriel was playing with patterns. He had obviously gotten annoyed with Amenadiel’s (failed) interference and ramped up the messages to Lucifer. Normally by now, a human would be badly injured, but (Y/N) had frankly miraculous luck and was fine. (Lucifer assumed this was Uriel toying with him but wasn’t sure) This particular accident probably would have ended with them in the ER judging by the dark spiderweb cracks in the ground (Lucifer would need to bring a repairman in for that later).

            “(Y/N), what the hell happened?” asked Lucifer. “Are you alright?”

            “There was a stupid marble, and I tripped on it,” grumbled (Y/N), standing up. “I’m fine, I guess I just knocked the knife rack down.” They shrugged. “At least I’m winning the bet.”

            Lucifer groaned. Now I understand why Dr. Martin gets exhausted with me. “You bet on your life?”

            “I didn’t bet on my life, that would be stupid. I bet on my health,” said (Y/N).

            Lucifer sighed and held them by their shoulders. “(Y/N), I know humans get adrenaline from things like this, but please, be careful. You don’t know what could happen.”

            (Y/N) frowned, raising an eyebrow. “What happened to you? You’re acting strange.” They folded their arms. “If you want me to take something serious, just explain it to me. I won’t act like an idiot for no reason.”

            Linda’s words to Lucifer about not pressing a parental role onto (Y/N) were clear in his mind alongside her advice to let them set the boundaries in order to feel comfortably. Lucifer felt strangely honored that they would let him tell them what to do, and he respected that they still maintained a desire to know why. It was the exact approach he would take with his parents when he was growing up.

            “My brother, Uriel, is on Earth,” said Lucifer. “He wants my mother to be returned to Hell and is threatening the people around me. He can create domino effects.” He gestured to the marble and the knives. “This is one of them. The little coincidences and accidents throughout the day have been his doing.”

            (Y/N) blinked. “You know, I should have figured that something supernatural was happening. Everything did seem kind of weird.” They smiled. “Thanks for telling me, Lucifer.”

            “It’s only fair that you be aware of what affects you,” said Lucifer.

            (Y/N) felt a homely feeling within them as they heard the words they had wished their parents for give them. Their mother and father just made decisions for (Y/N) and forced them into whatever made their image better. Lucifer was making sure (Y/N) was aware of everything that could affect them. It was a nice feeling to be actually thought of.

            They shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess should apologize for trying to run off from Emeranne all day. I suppose they were just doing what you said. Still, they owe me funny since I haven’t gotten hurt.” They carefully stepped around the knives on the ground. “I’ll head to bed early tonight before anything else can happen. I hope you manage to scare him off. I don’t think it would be nice for Missy to have to go back to Hell.” Even if she is annoying, I guess she deserves a chance. Not from me, but for her and Lucifer.

            Lucifer nodded and smiled. “I’ll let you know when the situation has passed. Goodnight, (Y/N).”

            “Night, Lucifer.”

            “Lucifer,” said a new voice, footsteps coming into the kitchen shortly after (Y/N) left.

            “Mum,” said Lucifer, gathering up the last of the steak knives and storing them away (now in a low cabinet instead of the high counter).

            “I’m letting Uriel take me back to Hell. This has gone too far,” said Missy.

            Lucifer scoffed. “Well, he must be dealt with, certainly, but there’s no need for that, Mother.”

            “Let her go,” said Maze, emerging from the shadows. “It’s the right move.”

            “Right, of course.” Lucifer, whose temper was already short after seeing (Y/N) almost get seriously hurt, was growing irritated. “Remind me at some point to give you a refresher on the meaning of loyalty.”

            “It’s what’s best for everyone, especially (Y/N),” said Maze. “She goes back to Hell, where she belongs, (Y/N) is safe, and I don’t have to clean up your mess anymore.”

            “More importantly, you’ve kept your word,” said Missy.

            “I am keeping my word. You’re serving out your sentence here on Earth. The Almighty should be satisfied with that, and Uriel shouldn’t be trying to impress him by bringing you back and threatening (Y/N),” hissed Lucifer.

            “You know your father wanted her in Hell!” growled Maze.

            “Do I?!” shouted Lucifer. “Everyone thinks they know what He wants. Amenadiel did when he first got here, now Uriel does. Human wars have been waged because of it. Dad showed (Y/N) an open door. Does that mean I was meant to take you back to Hell or was He insinuating that Hell was getting drafty? Nobody bloody knows because the selfish bastard won’t tell us!” Lucifer closed his eyes to collect himself. “And I’m sick of it. No more. No more.”

            Missy smiled. “There’s my Lightbringer. My Morningstar.” She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She sighed. “Uriel was so small as a child. All he ever wanted was to play with you and the older kids. But you all excluded him.”

            “Yes,” chuckled Lucifer tiredly. “And every time he came back, pestering us again. Which is strange, considering he knew what the outcome would be.”

            “That’s how much he wanted to be around you, Lucifer,” said Missy. “Uriel is a stubborn boy. When he sets his mind, it doesn’t waver. He’s not going to give up until he has either me or (Y/N). And they are just a child.”

            “Mum…I refuse to believe that,” said Lucifer. “There is always another way.”

            “Well, if anyone can find it, it’s you, my son,” said Missy.

            Lucifer stood. “It seems I have a meeting to go to.” It is time to handle the situation. Uriel will not hurt (Y/N) any longer.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs @sammy-13

[blkgojo]

Game On | Chapter 1

Valkyrie x Reader x Carol Danvers

In which, drunk!you thinks sending nudes to the King of Asgard and the most powerful Avenger... is a good idea.

Warnings: None

Here's the thing. Sending Valkyrie your nudes was an accident. Legally speaking, the nudes were meant for Carol. If you wanted to get even more technical, you weren't even supposed to text either one of them unless there was an emergency. You hadn't realized it at first. You curled up next to your cat, practically smug with your boldness. What better way to show you're available, you thought. You had checked your phone again to revel in it only to see the photo had not only been sent to Carol. It was there, right under Valkyrie's name. Wish you were here x.

You were well and truly fucked.

Working as a S.W.O.R.D agent meant few privileges. One of those privileges you had abused. Greatly. You had sent lewd photos to not only an Avenger, but the King of Asgard. Strong 10000 year old alcohol be damned, Fury wouldn't accept that as an excuse.

"You gonna tell me what's up or we just gonna sit here?" Darcy asked. Your roommate munched absentmindedly on a piece of chocolate. She was blessed enough to not have drank the ale. The buzz of it still causing your world to sway even as you began to sober up.

"I sent nudes to someone,” you whined.

She smiled. Patted your thigh. “That's okay, Y/N. We all send nudes sometimes."

“No you don’t get it. I sent them to the Asgardian king.”

“Thor has a phone?”

“No. Valkyrie.”

You can see she's trying her best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“You’re gonna start an intergalactic war.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fury’s gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t tell him!” Your words dissolved into drunken hiccups. You sloppily tried to take another sip of the ale, but Darcy snatched it. You frowned. “Do you… do you think she read it?”

“She doesn’t have read receipts? An IPhone?”

“No, I think she has an Android.”

Darcy  quietly tittered, mulling the information over. “Who did you even mean to send nudes to?”

"Don't freak out.”

“Y/N.”

“Say you won’t freak out.”

“Just tell me!”

“Darcy!”

“Spit it out!”

“Captain Marvel,” you hesitantly answered. 

Darcy shrugged. “Well, at least you didn’t send it to her, too.”

“No I did.”

One.

Two.

She laughed. "I'm sorry," she said between breathes. "I'm sorry. This is just... you're fucked."

To her credit, she tried to stop laughing. It doesn't work, but she tried. A few minutes past before she finally can speak again - tears having long since stained her face. She wiped them and took a deep breathe.

"You could just text them something like, 'Oh my god. I'm so sorry. This wasn't meant for you," she offered.

"I could." You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."

You picked up your phone, ready to send another message. In your hands, it vibrated.

​---

Carol hated texting. Sometimes, she thought maybe that was why her and Thor were so close. She was traveling the galaxy. He was traveling the galaxy. She hated texting. He didn’t have a phone. She preferred communication the old fashion way like through hologram or sheer word of mouth.

She checked her phone as soon as she received the message and now it was waiting on the countertop of the bar face down.

“If someone sent me a picture, I would’ve been all over that,” Rocket burped.

“That’s not what she needs to hear right now, Rocket,” Thor turned to her. “So what are we doing here? Are you going to respond or…”

“I responded,” she said. And she had.

She said word for word, ‘Oh is this an emergency?’

You had sent the photos when she was on some off time with Thor. They all had just gotten back from a mission liberating refugees from a wannabe empire. She had been ready to dash back to Earth when she saw your name light up her phone screen. When she opened the message… completely different story.

Thor scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“What?” asked Carol.

“If I sent promiscuous photos to a potential love interest, I would want a bit more…” He gestured to the air.

Carol scrunched her brows. “You would want what?”

“I don’t know. Romance?”

Rocket slammed his beer on the table. “Send them a tongue emoji.”

“I don’t like texting. Why couldn’t they just,” she threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Send a hologram.”

“Look. Forget everything else. Do you wanna get laid or not?” demanded Rocket.

Carol cocked her head to the side and begrudgingly nodded. “Then stop dicking around. It’s annoying. Some of us haven’t got laid in years and you’re over here squandering your opportunities.”

“So what? I travel a billion light years away for sex?”

Before Thor can interject, Rocket growled. “You can breathe in space. Going to Earth for you is like me or Thor here going to the bathroom.”

Carol sighed. “The raccoon has a point.”

“Fuck you.”

----

“C’mon Valkyrie. Just once.”

“I will not play Fortnite with you.”

Korg frowned or she assumed he did. It was always hard to tell. “But-”

“No.”

Her phone had long since vibrated in her pocket. A fact that she had chosen to ignore. The Midgardians seemed to always have issues. Even on Sundays which were supposed to be her self-care days. She picked it up, ready to see some frantic message about one crisis or another. The sky is falling. Nuclear weapons. Blah blah blah.

“Oh.” She nearly dropped it.

“What is it?” Korg peered over her shoulder. “It seems like someone sent you a gift.”

There were two photos with the caption ‘wish you were here x’. It was simple enough. Valkyrie tried to remember the last conversation she had with you. Had you been flirting? It was last Tuesday when she had been discussing global affairs with the other world leaders. You had been there, but in between all of the political nonsense, it was hard to figure it all out.

Korg was still peering over her shoulder. Valkyrie quirked her brow at him.

“Sorry.” He went back to his game. “Are you going to respond to Y/N? I like them. Gave me some good rocks once.”

“Rocks?”

“Yeah, I think they thought I eat them. Not their fault. My mum’s boyfriend used to think the same thing. I use them to decorate me flower garden, though.”

Valkyrie nodded and took a sip of her beer. “Should I respond?”

“You should do what your heart tells you.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been watching a lot of them Disney movies. Have you seen the one with the girl on the islands?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“It’s good. She sings.”

Valkyrie took another swig of her beer, typing out a response to your photos.

‘This is way better than what I was expecting.’ And waited.

----

"She's annoying."

"I mean, she is right."

"Seriously?"

"What?" Darcy hesitantly took a sip of Thor's alcohol. "I think it's a valid question. Is it an emergency?"

"It is," you half-questioned.

"Is it?"

"It is," you said with more force.

"Then, say that," Darcy took another sip. "This shit really hits you. I get why..." She burped.

Right after you hit send, another message came through. Valkyrie.

"Well," you begin. "Valkyrie appreciated it."

"Of course she did." When you stared at her, Darcy shrugged. "She seems like really chill. Stared at your ass in one of our meetings."

"She did? When?"

"I don't know. It was like, so far ago."

"She said it was way better than what she was expecting."

"So, she wants you."

"Yeah," you said slowly. The King of Asgard wanted you. Wanted more of you. You reread the message. "I'm gonna flirt back."

Darcy nodded, taking another small sip of the ale.

I guess I should've done this sooner, you texted back.

Her response was immediate.  We’ll have to make up for lost time.

"Valkyrie's so hot," you whispered.

Just then, Carol responded. And what would you like me to do about this emergency?

You walked over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, taking a tiny sip of the alcohol. Just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You spared a glance at your friend. Her alcohol tolerance was higher than yours and yet, her cheeks were already pink. She nodded at the bottle, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"You look ah, flustered."

"You look drunk."

She held one finger up, wobbly walked herself to the couch. "Touche."

There was no reason you couldn't have fun, right? They didn't know that you had texted them both. No one knew save for Darcy and she could keep a secret. You could have fun with this. They both wanted you - honestly, you should take advantage of this opportunity. What was that phrase people loved saying? Live life or whatever the fuck.

"Yeah," Darcy cheered.

You hadn't realized you'd been talking out loud.

To Valkyrie, you send: When can we get started?

You took a deep breathe before texting Carol. Your fingers hovered over the send button for minutes longer than necessary.

I'd like you to fuck me, you sent back.

Game on.

[harley-sunday]

This is Where I Leave You

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple mission turns out to be a matter of life and death. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader [unnamed OFC (loosely based on Firestar)]

Warnings: ANGST. Character death. Language.

Word count: 5.9k

AN: Not sure why but I was in the mood for some angst last week and so here it is. It is somewhat inspired by Flashpoint S02E14 for those of you who know that show, but it takes place in that wonderful Marvel fanfic Universe where everyone lives at the compound/in the tower and Friday night’s are for Tony’s parties. I’m sure you know the one. I apologize in advance and yes, I did cry while writing this, so…

♥

Flashbacks in italics

In for seven, out for eleven.

It’s almost like a mantra stuck on repeat in your head, a distraction that only works half of the time. 

In for seven, out for eleven.

In for seven, out for-

All of a sudden something moving in the treeline catches your eye and you squint against the sun to try and figure what it is and if you should alert Steve. 

Steve, who’s on his knees at your feet, quietly working away and completely focused on the task at hand, although you can tell from the tense muscles in his back and the beads of sweat crowning his hairline that there’s probably a war going on inside of him. You wonder what he’s thinking right now and if he also feels like the weight of the world has been dropped on his shoulders.

Something steps out from in between the trees then and you let out a sigh of relief when you see it’s just a deer and her two fawns foraging for food. You watch them as they continue their journey, the fawns trailing behind their mother as if they’re connected by an invisible string, completely unaware of the two humans that are not even fifty yards away. You know the direction of the wind is in your favor, a brisk breeze kissing your face every now and then, a welcome relief from the sun that’s burning your cheeks, but even so you are amazed at how invisible you can become if you just stand still. 

Your watch beeps then, scaring off the animals and letting you know another minute has passed. Like he did at every other minute mark, sixteen of them now in total, Steve looks up to check on you. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” it comes out a little shaky and the tears that have started to form in your eyes are not helping to convince him. You try to smile, “Guess I should have taken a better look at that waiver Tony made me sign when I first joined, huh?”

“Rogers,” Tony says as he takes your elbow and guides you to where Captain America is standing, alone, in front of the large windows that make up the entire west wall of Tony and Pepper’s penthouse, his hands in his pockets and his back to the crowded room. 

He turns around just as you and Tony reach him and you wonder if the serum has enhanced his hearing so that he can hear you approach him even over the murmur of the crowd that’s gathered here for one of Tony’s infamous parties, but then you realize he must have seen your reflection in the window he was staring out of. 

“Cap,” Tony says as he gently pushes you forward, “I’d like you to meet our newest recruit.”

You can see Cap’s eyebrows knit together as his eyes land on your face but before you can say anything Tony beats you to it.

“Don’t look at her like that, she’s still a good, what-” he shrugs, “-sixty years younger than you.”

You throw Tony a look, “Sixty-eight, thank you very much.” 

“Whatever,” Tony says with a very elaborate roll of his eyes.

You shake your head and try to ignore him, instead holding out your hand and introducing yourself.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies with a hesitant smile, his eyes moving from you to Tony as if he’s trying to figure out your history. 

“Yeah, so uh, she’s a nuclear engineer but as we all know-” Tony nods to his left where Bruce is sitting at the bar, “-sometimes experiments fail, you know, liquids get mixed up, nasty stuff. So now Firestar over here can produce radiation and light, and can absorb and manipulate energy. Pretty nifty, if you ask me, but then again-”

“Tony-” 

“You know what, fine,” Tony says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just came here to introduce you to Cap since he wasn’t here for the official introduction earlier this week.” He turns to Steve then, “Told you she’d be a delight.” 

You shake your head at Tony, “Please go away.” 

Tony fakes being shocked, hand to his chest as he says, “Remind me to write you up for bad behavior, Sparky,” before he salutes the two of you and disappears.

“Asshole,” you mutter quietly as you watch him make his way across the room. When you turn back you find Steve staring at you with a questionable look in his eyes. You’re quick to explain, “I know him from before all of this-” you hesitate but then you hold up your hand and snap your fingers, creating a tiny spark, “-happened. We worked together on some projects in the past and when he found out about the “incident”-” you air-quote the word, “-he contacted me and told me there would always be a place for me here.” You smile, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve known him long enough to know he can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.” 

“Hmm,” Steve agrees, although he doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead he nods towards the other people in the room, his hands back in the pockets of his pants again, “Everyone treating you ok so far?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “it’s nice to be here.” It’s true. Ever since the incident at the lab you’ve felt like an outsider, felt people could tell there was something wrong with you, but not here. Here people are kind, not just interested in your powers but in you as a person, and honestly it’s like a weight has lifted off your shoulders. 

“Good.” 

You open your mouth to say something but it’s then your watch beeps, letting you know it’s time to get back downstairs. “I’m sorry,” you look up at Steve, “I have some things I need to do in the lab.” You pull a face, “Probably best not to mess up five months worth of experiments in my first week here, right?” 

Steve chuckles, “Probably not, no.” 

“So,” you try to smile, “I guess this is where I leave you.”

After another three minutes have passed you risk a quick glance down and see Steve’s still trying to clear the dirt surrounding your foot, his movements as controlled as possible, trying not to touch the box you’re standing on. When you look up again you do the same thing you’ve been doing for the past ten minutes or so and start listing off the things that are in your field of vision.

“Tahoe on my left,” you whisper, “an iron gate in front of it, three barracks to my right, all their doors open.” You let out a staggered breath, “The tree line in front and behind me, and a mother deer and her two fawns wandering around somewhere.”

“Steve at your feet,” he says then, looking up at you with a weak smile, “trying to get you out of this mess.”

“This is going to be one hell of a debriefing, Cap,” you try, but your voice catches on his name and when you try to smile you feel yourself failing.

“I don’t understand, Nat.” You let out a frustrated sigh and throw your gym bag on the floor, “Why does he have to be such an asshole?”

“He’s not-” 

“He tells me to watch my language like I’m a fuckin’ sixteen-year old kid,” you hold up your hand and start counting on your fingers, “he makes me write the reports after every mission we go on and then ever since last month, he wants to meet up so we can debrief but it’s always just the two of us, whoever else is on our team doesn’t have to attend for whatever reason, and then during our last mission brief he told me to be careful. Like, what the hell is that about?”

“Maybe he-”

“I have been a part of the team for over a year and all of a sudden he’s worried about me? That accident in the lab should have killed me, and let me tell you, I was ok with that. I made peace with it. But instead of dying I can now produce fuckin’ radiation at any given time,” you fume, “so I don’t think breaking and entering into a high security prison to retrieve the file of one their inmates is going to me killed. I’m sorry, but no.” 

Natasha throws you a look, silently asking if there’s more or if this is it. When you don’t say anything else she takes a deep breath and holds out her hands, letting you know she comes in peace, “Maybe he does those things because he likes you.”

“I- He-,” you stutter. “What?”

Natasha drops her hands and sits down on one of the benches, patting the spot next to her and waiting for you to sit down before she continues, “I’ve known Steve for a while so,” she shrugs, “I like to think that I know him,  sometimes maybe even better than he knows himself.” She smiles at you then, “I see the way he looks at you when he tells you to be careful-”

You scoff, “Yeah, sure.” 

“No.” Natasha shakes her head, “You want to know the reason why he wants you to write those reports?”

You shrug.

“It’s because he values your opinion more than anyone else’s,” Nat puts her hand on your arm and gives it a gentle squeeze, “and all those debriefings with just the two of you?” She chuckles, “That was my idea.” 

“What?”

“Like I said, I see the way he looks at you, but-” Natasha shakes her head, “-he would never admit it. Not to me, not to you, and sure as hell not to himself. He’s lost so much already that he doesn’t even believe this is a possibility.”

“And what makes you think I do?”

“Oh come on,” Natasha nudges you with her shoulder, “I’ve seen the way you look at him too.” 

“Steve?”

He stands up at the sound of your voice, so suddenly that it makes you want to take a step back, and so you curse quietly when at the very last nanosecond you realize that you can’t. Your leg’s a little shaky, no doubt a result of the conflict between the neurons your brain already fired when you wanted to move and the new neurons that were sent to intercept that message when you remembered you shouldn’t move. With a grunt you try to regain your balance while trying to make sure you don’t move your weight around too much because God knows what will happen if it does.  

“Shit,” he holds up his hands to you, “I’m sorry. I-”

“Hey,” you say with a faint smile, “language.” You nod towards the Tahoe that’s parked just outside the gate, “You think you could get me a bottle of water? I’m feeling a little thirsty.” 

Steve looks from you to the box and back, unsure almost.

You glance at your watch, “I’ve been here for almost twenty five minutes,” you try your hardest to smile, “I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Ok,” he nods, “just don’t move, ok?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

“Go on,” you nod towards the car, “I’m not going anywhere.” You know it is the wrong thing to say when you see him try to hide the pained look that crosses his face by turning around quickly, but you catch a glimpse of it anyway and it makes your eyes burn with unshed tears while a ragged breath escapes you. The unfairness of it all hurting you the most.

Before you have time to think about it though, your watch buzzes to let you know you have a new message from Nat, telling you to switch your comms unit over to channel two. You tap the settings on your watch and change the channel effortlessly, “Nat?” 

“Hey,” her voice is kind, softer than usual, and it’s at that moment you realize this is way worse than you thought. “You ok?” 

“Tell me what you know,” you reply instead, not really wanting to answer her question because you are sure that it will break you if you do. 

Nat clears her throat, “We’re almost there.”

“What’s almost?”  

Natasha hesitates.

“Nat-”

“Twenty minutes,” her voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Fuck.” All of a sudden it’s getting difficult to breath and it feels as if someone has dropped a hundred pound weight on your chest and then punched you in the stomach for good measure. 

“Just breathe,” Nat says, ���please. Just,” she sighs, “don’t move and keep breathing, ok?”

It’s then you hear Steve close the car door, holding two bottles of water, “I need to go.” You let out a shaky breath, “Nat,  If I don’t- Promise me you’ll take care of him?”

“Don’t-”

“Nat,” you plead, “promise me.”

“Ok,” she whispers, “I promise.” 

You let him know you’re there with a soft knock on the door before you step inside, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he draws out, suspiciously eyeing the basket you're carrying.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks but deciding it’s better not to beat around the bush, “so today a year ago we had our first debriefing together and I thought maybe we should celebrate?” 

“Hmm,” he replies while walking over to where you’ve put the basket on the table, trying to lift the lid.

“Don’t,” you say as you swat away his hand, “you’ll ruin the surprise.” 

“Surely you don’t want to celebrate here?” 

“Why not?” You smile, “This is where we had our first debriefing after all,” a grin then, “and every one after that.”

“Well, if you’re up for it,” he says with a smile, “maybe we could go up to the roof? I think there’s a picnic table up there, so-”

“I’d like that,” you say, reaching for the basket. 

This time it’s him who swats away your hand as he grabs the handle, “Come on.” 

You follow him to the elevator bay not too far from the meeting room, for once glad that he prefers to have the debriefings at night, when there’s no one else around. There’s an elevator already waiting for you and when you get inside you push the button needed, while you wait for the elevator doors to close. 

When you get to the top floor and off the elevator you walk next to Steve as you make your way to the south corner of the building, to where the roof access is. Steve’s been awfully quiet ever since you stepped off the elevator and you start to wonder if this was such a good idea after all, but then you open the door that leads to the roof and you let out a gasp, “Oh,”

There’s a small platform that has four posts on each corner, with strings of lights hanging between them, casting a warm yellow glow on the picnic table that stands in the center. 

You look from Steve to the scene in front of you and back, “You did this?”

He smiles, “You’re not the only one who remembered our debriefing anniversary.” 

“I love it,” you tell him with a smile before you make your way to the platform. There’s a bottle of what looks like champagne in an ice bucket on the table and when you recognize the label you turn around, “How did you know?”

Steve shrugs, a mischievous smile on his lips, “I have my ways.”

“You have Nat,” you reply, suddenly remembering the conversation you had with her not even two weeks ago. She kept asking you all these random questions, like what your favorite drink was and if you preferred savory over sweet when it came to snacks. And now all your answers are on the table in front of you. “Remind me to thank her.”

“Already did,” Steve says with a grin. He motions for you to sit down and takes out the bottle of champagne, uncorking it with ease and filling up the two glasses that are on either side of the table without spilling anything.

“Captain America,” you tease, “popping champagne like it’s nobody’s business. Who knew?”  

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

“Really?”

He just nods and hands you your glass before he holds up his own and clinks it against yours, “Cheers.” 

“Cheers,” you reply, “to, uh, the debriefing crew?”

He chuckles, “To us.” 

“To us.” You watch him as he sits down opposite to you, and take a sip of your champagne, relishing the way it tickles your throat. You smile then, “I know you take your first coffee of the day with milk and sugar but that every other cup after that is black. I know you like baseball more than american football even though you don’t want Tony to find out.”

“What are you-”

“I know you and Nat are like brother and sister and that you value her opinion the most.” You shrug, “I know we work well together, even though you really should stop telling me to watch my language, and-” You hesitate then and drop your gaze down to your hands. 

His foot nudges yours under the table, “And?”

“And,” you draw out, “I know you like me,” you look back up at him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, “and I know I like you too.”

The sun’s at its highest point and you can feel yourself starting to get a little lightheaded just as your watch beeps to let you know you’ve passed the thirty-minute mark. You get ready to answer Steve’s inevitable question, but it never comes, instead there’s not but silence and it feels ominous, worrying you more than everything that has happened so far. 

When you look down you see Steve sitting back on his heels, shaking his head. 

“Steve?”

“I can’t do this.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with dread “I am so sorry.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve never seen one of these before,” he nods at the box, “I don’t know how to-”

“Hey,” you tell him, holding out your hands to him even though you can’t reach him, “it’s ok. Tony will be here soon, right? He’ll know what to do.” 

Steve lowers his head, not looking at you and ignoring your outstretched hands, “Yeah.” 

“Steve,” you tell him, your voice much more commanding now. You wait until he looks at you before you continue, “It’s ok.” There’s a weight behind your words that you hope he understands, even if maybe he doesn’t want to. 

He runs a hand over his face and straightens his back, “Ok. Let me get an update from Tony and then we’ll take it from there, ok?”

“Ok,” you agree and watch as he walks towards the gate, no doubt to keep you out of earshot. A little frustrated to be left out of the conversation you activate your comms unit, “Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“What channel are they on?” 

She probably knows better than to argue with you and so she lets out a resigned, “Five point three.”

“Thank you.” Before she has a chance to say anything else you push the button needed on your watch to switch to the other channel and all of a sudden Tony’s voice comes in loud and clear over your comms unit that you wear in your left ear.

“You sure about that, Cap?” 

You see more than hear Steve’s frustration from the way he’s pacing in front of the gate, “It’s a TM-38, Tony. Soviet-made. I’ve seen them in the field before.” 

“And there’s no way you can dismantle it?” Tony tries again, his voice a little tighter now.

“No,” Steve says while he looks at you, the desperation in his voice matched by his pained expression.

The mission brief is simple. The HYDRA division that used the army base had abandoned it in a hurry three days ago, leaving behind a plethora of important files that you and Steve are sent out to retrieve. This morning you tried to convince Tony to delay the mission with one or two days, not particularly looking forward to spending your six-month anniversary out in the field instead of the nice little restaurant Steve promised he would take you to. 

Tony didn’t budge, said he had intel that HYDRA wanted to return to collect what they could sooner rather than later and so here you are, trying to navigate through the dense Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia while Steve is driving the Tahoe that somehow got transported here on the Quinjet. 

“There it is,” you point towards a stone structure on your right. The base is surrounded by tall trees and definitely looks like something HYDRA would use to hide out in. You can only see three barracks above ground, but the map Nat has given you on the flight over shows an intricate underground network of tunnels, bunkers, and panic rooms. 

The room you’re interested in, however, is all the way in the back, housing about five servers full of information you’re desperate to get your hands on. There’s a laptop in your backpack to connect to the servers, and a program written by Bruce that should be able to copy the files in no time.

“Ready?” Steve asks once he’s pulled up to the gate. He looks at you with a smile and then surprises you by leaning in and giving you a kiss, “Not how I wanted to spend our anniversary, but-”

“Yeah,” you agree, for a moment allowing yourself to get lost in his eyes. Your watch double beeps then, letting you know it’s go-time and so you grab your backpack and exit the car, drawing your gun as soon as you reach the gate.

With every step you take towards the first of the three barracks it is clear that there’s no one here, the doors of all the buildings wide open and not a sound to be heard except your footsteps. You feel yourself start to relax a little and a sliver of hope starts to form somewhere, because maybe you will make it home in time for dinner after all. 

The trek to the server room proves to be rather uneventful and once you’ve connected the laptop to the mainframe it only takes about twenty minutes for the files to upload. You use that time to scout the other rooms for valuable information, but come up empty-handed. Apart from the servers there’s not much they’ve left behind and you can’t help but wonder if this was all some sort of setup and if by downloading the files you’re bringing in some sort of spy-ware. 

“Remind me to tell Bruce to check the files for any malware,” you tell Steve, who nods. A notification lights up on your screen then, letting you know the download is complete. You unplug the laptop and stow it in your backpack before you nod to Steve, “Ready.”

“Alright, let’s head out.”

When you finally make it outside again, you have to blink a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight that’s shining through the treetops. You’re following a few steps behind Steve as you fish a piece of paper out of your pocket, on it the coordinates for the pick-up point you’re supposed to go to, so the team can fly you back to the compound. Of course they’re programmed into your watch as well, but you like the act of taking a minute to write down the pick-up coordinates before you leave on your mission, almost like a sort of good-luck charm to remind you to make it home safe. 

A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s still early enough to make it back in time for dinner and you’re just about to tell Steve the good news when a gust of wind blows the paper out of your hand. You chase after it, stepping off the path that leads to the gate and onto the soft forest floor. You almost catch it but then the wind picks it up again and for a moment you debate just leaving it, after all it’s just a piece of paper, but the information on it is too important and so once again you chase after it.  

Finally it’s within reach and you stick your foot out, hoping to trap the piece of paper under your shoe before it flies off again. There’s a click resounding through the sole of your shoe once you’ve put your foot down, the surface on which you’re standing hard and not at all like the soft bed of pine needles you were walking on before. Instantly a chill runs through your spine and you try to stay in position, afraid of what will happen if you move.

“Steve?” 

He must hear the panic in your voice because he turns around right away, his brows furrowed as he tries to understand what’s going on. 

“I’ve stepped on something,” you try to explain, but your voice is too weak and the wind carries it away from him. You point at your ear and turn on your comms unit, before you hold up your hand to tell him to stay in position, “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” 

“I- uh,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts so you can give him as much information as possible, “I stepped on something. It’s a- It’s a hard surface, almost like metal, and when I put my weight down on my foot, something underneath clicked, like-”

“Like you stepped on a pressure plate?” Steve asks, already one step ahead of you.

“Yes,”

“Steve?” It’s Natasha who comes in first, “What’s going on?”

“Rogers,” Tony barks through the comms unit, “I need a status report stat.” 

“Please,” Steve pleads, his voice rough and full of emotion, “just- Just give me a second.” 

You can see him tap his watch before he runs a hand over his face, no doubt trying to figure out what to do next. With a small nod, almost as if he tries to convince himself, he drops his backpack and slowly starts making his way towards you.

“Steve. Don’t” you tell him, but either he really doesn’t hear you or just pretends he doesn’t because he keeps walking.

“Talk to me, Sparky,” Tony says, his voice much kinder now. “Cap’s offline, yeah?”

“I think so, but he’s making his way towards me, Tony, I-” you look around you, “I don’t know if it’s safe. Please tell him to stop-”

“His comm’s off,” 

“There must be some way to turn it on remotely, right?” There’s no reply and so you try again, “Right?”

“Fine,” Tony sighs, “but before I do I want you to know that there’s nothing we can say to stop him. You know that right?”

You lock eyes with the man walking towards you and your heart suddenly feels heavy in your chest, “I know.” When Steve reaches you, you turn off your comms unit, “So, what’s the plan, Cap?”

“I need to take a good look at it first,” Steve says as he drops to his knees, “just try to stay still, ok?”

You nod, “Yup,” and for the first minute or so you look down to try and see what he’s doing, but it messes with your balance and so instead you focus on the treeline in front of you, trying to remember the breathing exercises Clint taught you during one of your stakeouts together. 

Breathe in for seven seconds, out for eleven.

In for seven, out for eleven.

Another beep, but this time you ignore the impulse to check your watch. You don’t want to know how long you’ve been here. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is making sure Steve makes it out of this alive.

“They’re five minutes out,” he says when he gets back to you. 

“Ok,” you tell him, eyeing his reaction to see if he hears you over the comms unit you still have switched on. He doesn’t respond and so you figure he must have turned it off after talking to Tony, which is good. He kneels at your feet again, why you’re not sure. There’s nothing he can do. Still, it gives you a chance to check in with the rest of the team and you quietly whisper, “Team, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” Nat replies almost immediately. 

“Same,” Tony and Bruce say at the same time, while Clint’s “Yes, ma’am,” follows a little later. 

“Steve?” You wait until he looks up at you before you continue, “I think we need to consider our options here.” 

“Why?” He looks confused, “The team’s almost here, they’ll know what to do.”

“And if they don’t?”

“And if they don’t,” he bites back in a tone of voice you haven’t heard before, “we’ll find another solution.” 

“Steve-”

“No.” He pushes himself up and stands in front of you with his hands on his hips, “We’ll find a way.”

You hesitate, trying to find the right words, “I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be completely honest with me, ok?”

“That depends on what you’re about to ask me, because-”

“Do you think I could absorb the energy that this thing produces?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t-”

“No,” Bruce comes in over your earpiece, sounding absolutely defeated, “I’ve run several calculations but there are way too many variables-”

“This thing is too strong,” Tony says, the desperation seeping through his voice, “before you have a chance to absorb any of it you would be-”

“-know.” Steve lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know enough about nuclear physics to even try to answer that question.” 

“Ok,” you nod, trying to stay calm even though your heart is screaming and your stomach is twisting and turning inside of you, “but Tony and Bruce are sure they can dismantle it?”

“They said-”

“No,” it’s Bruce who speaks up first again.

“There’s no way to dismantle it safely,” Nat says, her voice low. “The Soviets purposely built it that way.”

No matter how hard you try to hide it, you are sure something registers on your face. Disbelief first, anger next because Jesus, Steve was supposed to be your happy ending, and finally acceptance, Nat’s words about not being able to dismantle the mine slowly turning into something inevitable. It’s ok, you tell yourself. You were living on borrowed time anyway. 

“-they could try,” Steve says, looking at you in a way that tells you he knows something’s up. He points at his earpiece, “Your comm’s on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to give him an apologetic smile, but undoubtedly failing. “I’m sorry, Steve, but-” you shrug, “I just had to know.” You bite your lip to keep from crying and it’s almost as if the reality of it all has finally sunken in, “There’s nothing we can do.” 

“There has to be something-”

A chorus of no’s echoes over your comms unit. 

“No,” you shake your head, the tears you've been trying so hard to fight back finally spilling over, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Steve. My heart is pounding in my chest, my leg has been shaking non-stop for the past minute or so, if I- If I spasm right now-”

“Stop.”

“Steve-”

“Stop!” He rubs his hands over his face, “There’s got to be another way.” He turns his comms unit back on, “Bruce, what about a weight transfer?”

Bruce hesitates, “I’m not sure I-”

“The only reason the mine hasn’t exploded yet is because somehow her weight is keeping the pin in place, right?” He sounds frantic, pacing back and forth in front of you, “So what if I find something that’s the same weight and we do a transfer?”

“I don’t know, Cap,” Bruce says, “that’s really tricky. It has to be perfectly timed.” 

“At least wait until we get there,” Tony suggests, “don’t go at this on your own.”

“We’re less than a minute out, Steve,” Nat offers, “please wait.” 

“What about my shield, maybe-”

“Steve?” Your voice is weak, hardly audible but somehow he hears you and stops talking. “Steve, look at me.” When he does, you nod, “It’s ok.”

“What?” 

“Go get your shield.” You take a ragged breath and blow it out in a small puff before you nod to the car, “Go.”

“They’re almost here,” Steve tries and you know it’s because he doesn’t want to leave you, “they can pick it up.”

“Steve,” you try again, your voice a little louder this time, “go get your shield.” 

He looks from you to the car and back, unsure of what to do. 

It’s then you hear the distant rumble of another vehicle approaching and you know there’s not much time left. Another deep breath, “Now.” 

He furrows his brows at your command but then does as he’s told, and you let out a sigh of relief as you watch him jog to the car where he opens the trunk. He stands still for a moment, drops his head, and you can tell he’s feeling desperate and out of control. Leaving him behind hurts you more than anything else, but you know there’s no way you’ll make it out of this alive. It feels like whatever got a hold of your heart earlier tightens its grip, making you gasp for breath. 

“Steve,” you tell him, your voice soft as you see him turn towards you, his shield in one hand as he closes the trunk with the other, “it’s ok. It’s time to let me go.” 

You think you hear Tony whisper a quiet, “Fuck,” over the comms unit. 

“I know. I’m sorry guys,” you tell your team, “but I guess we all know there’s no other way.”  “Are you sure?” It’s Tony who asks you the question. You nod, even though they can’t see you, “It’s the only way.”

“It’s ok,” Nat says, her voice a little unsteady, “It’s ok. I’ll take care of him.” 

“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Clint tells you in a whisper.

“It was an honor working with you,” Bruce says, his voice catching on the last word, “I’ll keep your research going, doc.” 

“You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met,” Tony admits quietly, “I won’t forget you.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, a single tear sliding down your cheek. 

When you look back up you see Steve is still rooted in the same spot, disbelief written all over his face. You try to smile at him, “I love you,” a sob then, “I just want you to know that.” 

Something else registers on his face then, something you recognize as the determination to make things right and you know it’s your cue. 

“Let me go, Steve,” you nod to let him know it’s ok. A faint smile then as you remember the first time you met him, “I guess this is where I leave you.”

From that moment everything happens in slow motion. 

Steve is running towards you, eyes wide in shock when finally he understands what you’re about to do. 

You give him one last apologetic smile, and another “I love you.” 

He comes to an abrupt stop just thirty yards away from you and watches you as you take one last deep breath. 

It’s time to move, you tell yourself, and when the neurons fire from your brain and the muscles in your leg react you whisper a final, “It’s ok.” 

The last thing you see and hear is Steve, his eyes finding yours as he quietly tells you, “It’s ok. I love you.” 

[ourimpavidheroine]

Okay, @peoniequeen, here are your stories.

How many people do you know moved across the world for love? 

Well, you all know about this one. I met my late wife online in late 1998 on an X-Files message board, we emailed and then called, etc. until she came to the U.S. from Finland in September of 1999 to live with me for a year. After the year was up we relocated to Finland, in part because she could not legally immigrate to the U.S. during that time as a same-sex partner (Finland was a huge fucking pain in the ass about it but eventually they let me immigrate there based on our relationship status) and in part because we thought Finland would be a better place to raise kids due to healthcare, schools, etc. When I arrived in Finland it was the first time I had even been to Europe, never mind the country I was going to live in and the airline accidently left my two dogs in Amsterdam instead of putting them on the plane to Helsinki and I spent my first moments in my new home sobbing about my dogs until the very nice airline lady called for my late wife over the loudspeaker and let her come back and take me in hand (much the way Mako takes Wu in hand, if you must know). (Don’t worry, the airline put us up in a hotel next to the airport and the dogs came on the next flight and came to us there in a taxi the airline made arrangements for. They were completely fine and in fact weren’t sure what the fuss was about.) It was kind of a big culture shock. The end.

Or worked as a college radio DJ? 

I did! I had a show on Tuesday mornings from 4-6 am that nobody listened to but about 10 loyal people. (Kind of like my blog here, come to think about it.) I played a lot of old blues and jazz stuff that I’d grown up listening to. My Dad worked part time as a DJ at a local radio station so I knew how to work all the equipment and such thanks to him. (I also had a two hour slot on Wednesday nights there in high school where I played stuff teenagers wanted to listen to and not the never ending country western that the station owner and manager wanted played 24x7.) Yes, this was in the late 80′s-early 90′s when I was at university so it was all vinyl. I still have a collection of albums that have the gold stamp on them saying they are not for sale, that they are for radio station play only! (Some of them the aforementioned station manager gave me since they were not country and he was basically going to toss them into the trash and some of them were albums that I might have gotten through less altruistic means.)

Or was a makeup assistant to Drag Queens? 

I took a stage makeup course while I was majoring in theater at University and did so well with it that the guy who gave the class asked me to come and assist him at the San Francisco opera while they were essentially painting all of the singers brown in a classic racist move that was pretty well accepted in the 90′s but, thankfully, would be extremely frowned upon now. As I was doing it I struck up a friendship with one of the chorus tenors; it turned out he was a drag queen who sometimes did performances when he wasn’t doing opera. He was a Madonna impersonator (not a very good one, sorry to say) and he wanted me to help him design his makeup for it. So I went to the club he performed at a few times to get a better feel for how drag queens worked and then hung around backstage and ended up doing some designs for some of the other queens. The pay was basically me getting to see their performances for free and getting fed afterwards at whatever was open at 4 am but God it was fun. Also, now I am the most Judgy McJudgerson of ever when it comes to drag makeup on RuPaul’s Drag Race. The end.

Or wrote a letter to their Archbishop when they were twelve and got a personal answer in return? 

I was very put out by the fact that boys could be altar boys but girls got shit (I was Catholic, in case you haven’t guessed) and I was talking about it to my Grandma one time and she told me I should write a letter to the Archbishop and ask him why. Now see, my maternal Grandmother was married to a labor union president (my grandfather was still the president when he died of a heart attack when I was 8) and she was a good old fashioned liberal rabble rouser. Like, she got arrested with nuns protesting nuclear power plants in her muumuus and Birkenstocks, okay? She wrote letters to EVERYONE. So I sat down and very carefully wrote the letter and my Grandma made a few calls and got me the address and we sent the letter. I don’t think my Grandma actually thought I’d get a letter back (it was more of a teaching moment, if that makes sense) but he did send me a letter back! He was very kind, although his answer was the usual Catholic BS. I still have the letter but it is packed away in storage so I very sadly will not be producing it at this juncture in time.

Or drove from Los Angeles to Philadelphia in a 20 year old Volvo? 

My friend from university was going to Grad School at Temple University and her parents didn’t want her to drive the entire way by herself. So I drove with her in an orange 1971 Volvo sedan. (In fact, I drove about 90% of the trip because she didn’t like driving.) The air conditioning fan died as we were driving through the Mojave Desert on the way to Vegas and I realized that if I floored it the cool air would actually move itself and so I floored it all the way through the desert and we are lucky that fucking ancient hulk of Swedish steel did not die and leave us stranded to be baked to death. We stopped in Vegas (which was not as impressive in 1992 as it is today, trust me) and found a guy who could actually fix the fan and spent the night in one of the casino hotels before continuing on. We did stop in Chicago to stay with her grandparents for two weeks (where so many elderly Jews kept responding to my last name with confusion as they assumed I was Jewish that I eventually started to do genealogy and found out that I am, indeed, Jewish on my father’s side) and also we saw the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer film in Des Moines and went to a cowboy bar in Cheyenne (I learned how to line dance and my friend got completely trashed and I had to practically carry her back to the hotel) and many other adventures until we finally arrived in Philly and her parents flew me back to California. It was a great road trip and short of the reeeaaaally sketchy and filthy motel room in Salt Lake City that had both a half-empty Chinese takeout box and a soiled condom under the bed we had a grand time.

Or was part of a thruple? 

I have been part of two thruples. Well. Sort of. One thruple and one wanna be thruple. The first one, with my first husband and my girlfriend was a huge mistake from the get-go. (Oh god, she was so hot and the sex was so fucking good but she was really an awful person and my ex kept trying to control the entire thing and basically forced her into living with us instead of being just my girlfriend with benefits and the entire thing blew up and while it wasn’t the reason why I divorced him it didn’t help either.) The second one was with my late wife and our mutual boyfriend and it worked very well but he had a little boy from a former relationship and his son got very ill and died and he didn’t handle it at all and he disappeared out of our lives. It’s been 20 years, give or take, since I’ve talked to him. He asked us to no longer contact him and I’ve always respected that. And before you ask, he knows where I live and my email address is the same as it was all those years ago. If he wanted to find me it would be very easy for him to do so. He clearly doesn’t and I respect that. I wish him love and peace, wherever he is. I miss him still.

Or beat up the drunk lady in the hallway to get back a little girl’s keys?

Ah, I’ll tell this one tomorrow.

[mercheswan]

The Ring in the Closet - AO3 (MerCevans)

Stiles wasn’t spying on Theo’s things. He really wasn’t. He just wanted a tie, and he knew where Theo kept his, so he though that his boyfriend with whom he had been living with for year and a half, wouldn’t mind that he grabbed one.

Damn his curious nature, when Stiles touched something hard on the bottom of the drawer he took it. He didn’t even thought that it could be considered a violation of Theo’s privacy. He just took it and now he couldn’t unsee it.

It was a box. An engagement ring box. Stiles stood in the closet for minutes looking at the box as if it was going to talk or open a portal to a different dimension. Oh god. Theo bought a ring. Theo bought a ring. An engagement ring. For Stiles. For him. Theo wanted to get married. He wanted to get married with him.

Stiles’s mind was accelerated, remembering all the times in the past months in which Theo might have mentioned something about marriage. This was a surprise. They have been dating officially not even for two years, and they had a very rocky begining of the relationship. Stiles hated Theo years ago, and with reason, Theo did almost kill his best friend. Said best friend who would be his best man at the hypothetical wedding. Life surely was interesting.

Stiles called his office and asked for the day off. There was no way he was going to concentrate today. Stiles seated on the living room’s sofa. It was going to be a long day before he could confront Theo when he arrived from the Hospital.

Maybe there was some other reason why Theo wanted to get married. There are some legal benefits about a couple being married, like in case you die what happens to your heritage, or in medical terms if someone has an accident their spouse will get to decide about their treatment and things like that. Theo had always been very practical and previsional.

Stiles was going to have hell of a day waiting for Theo. And if Theo proposed, was he ready to say yes?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Stiles! Are you home?” Theo shouted entering their apartmet. Theo spotted his boyfriend in the kitchen. “Hey” Theo kissed Stiles on the cheek. “How was your day? W-why are you still in your pjs?”

“Are you dying? I’m not dying.” Stiled asked Theo turning around to face his boyfriend.

“W-what!? No... I’m not... why would you think that?! I’m glad that you’re... okay? What’s going on?” Theo questioned. He was used to Stiles being weird, it was one of the things he found more endearing about him, but this behaviour was abnormal, something happened that had unsettled the FBI Agent. “You didn’t go to work today? What happened?”

Stiles exhaled meeting Theo’s eyes. “Something did happen...”

“Did they fire you?” Theo asked

“No, it has nothing to do with work. It was actually me the one who called to have the day off” Stiles explained.

“Why?” Theo was starting to get nervous, Stiles was being very mysterious.

Stiles got up if the chair he was sitting and walked toward the living room. He grabbed something from the table. “I-I wasn’t, I didn’t m-mean to...” Stiles was struggling with his words which only made Theo’s worry increase. “I wasn’t spying on your things I swear, I trust you” Stiles claimed and turned around. Theo noticed what Stiles was holding and his hands and everything made sense.

“Oh” Theo whispered.

“I was looking for a tie...” Stiles explained

Theo huffed a laugh. “You never wear ties” Theo huffed again looking down. Stiles took a step toward his boyfriend, he didn’t want Theo to be sad. “Did I get the size right? The ring is very simple but I didn’t think you would appreciate a big rock in it” Theo allegued.

“I-I didn’t look inside... I mean, I’ve ruined the surprise, I didn’t want to... ruin everything...” Stiles said. “So it is a ring? A ring for me?”

“Yeah... what did you think it was inside? The codes for the nuclear misiles?” Theo responded.

“I thought maybe there was a pen drive inside with some kind of information or that someone asked you to guard it... maybe... millions of theories came to me since this morning” Stiles admitted.

Theo snorted. “I’m sorry I gave you such a headache, I’m sorry I-I made uncomfortable...” Theo said in a slightly sad tone reaching out to take the ring box from Stiles’s hands.

“Theo no! Come here” Stiles said grabbing his boyfriend’s arm and pulling him towards the sofa. “I’m not sad, I’m not mad. I’m-m...” Stiles looked at Theo’s eyes, how much had Theo’s eyes changed. They used to be cold and evil, although not so much towards him... Stiles had always been his weak point. But now they always showed Theo’s emotions. Stiles grabbed Theo’s head and pushed their lips together in a hungry and demanding kiss. Theo moaned into the kiss, surprised by Stiles’s action. “I love you Theo, I love you” Stiles assured his boyfriend who breathed out letting some of his nerves go. “It just caught me by surprise. I guess I should be thankful that I have a partner who always surprises me and it’s not predictable at all” Stiles teased.

“Well now you know what it feels like” Theo chuckled.

“This doesn’t change anything about us, I just... I didn’t even know what you thought about marriage” Stiles explained.

“I saw it and I felt the need to buy it. It was like some kind of instinct possessed me. The idea of you being publicly and legally mine was alluring. I guess I must be the wolf inside me. I’ve always known you are the love of my life” Stiles couldn’t help but feel a blush coming over him. “I guess I didn’t stop to think about the implications of it” Theo declared.

A comfortable silence fell between the couple. “When I found it, I-I had a turmoil of emotions. I panicked and insecure like omg a ring! He wants us to marry oh my god that’s a big step! But I also felt joy, I was incredibly happy too. Where you going to propose soon?” Stiles said

“I don’t know... I didn’t think of a date, I wanted to see when I felt right. I thought I would know when the right moment came” Theo responded.

“I’m sorry I ruined it...” Stiles apologised.

“Don’t be... it’s good we had this talk. We don’t need it Stiles. It’s just a paper, maybe someday we will feel it” Theo assured. Theo patted Stiles on the knee and got up of the sofa.

“Did you have like a speech already made?” Stiles asked teasing.

“Not really... I guess I thought about some things to say but...” Theo said

“Show it to me” Stiles dared

“What?” Theo snorted

Stiles grabbed the box and put it on Theo’s hand. “Humour me! Do it as you imagined it. Any day is good for you to declare your unconditional and eternal love for me” Stiles claimed.

Theo rolled his eyes with fondness. He was in love with that idiot. “All right” Theo said before getting to one knee.

“Oh, wow, oh, haha, okay!” Stiles laughed nervously.

“You want the real version, right?” Theo said.

“Y-yes, yes, proceed” Stiles agreed.

Theo took Stiles’s hand in his. “Mieczylaw Stilisnki” Theo proclaimed pronouncing his name perfectly. Stiles heart started beating uncontrollably, Theo’s tone was serious and solemn. “The prince of Mischief, the boy who stole my heart almost twenty years ago in a baseball pitch. During all this years that we have known each other there’s been a consistency in my life, I have always wanted to be with you. Whether as your friend, or as member of an evil chimera pack...” Stiles snorted eyes never leaving Theo’s. “I have always wanted you. I’ve never thought I would get the privilege to be with you like this, to be your partner, but I do love being your partner in crime. I want to be the person you come to when you have great news to share, I want to be the person you call when you need help, when you need someone to hug you. You need to know that I’ll always be there for you, to protect you, to fight beside you, no matter what” By this point Stiles’s eyes were full of tears and Theo’s were watering too. “You’re annoying, and noisy, too reckless...” “Hey! Hey! This is not the time to insult me, jerk! You’re supposed to say nice things!” Stiles laughed cleaning some of the tears of his eyes. “You’re loyal, and brave too, and smart, and caring... I’ll take it all, you’re no self preservation and you’re obsession to put yourself in danger, making me go crazy with worry, because it makes you you, and you’re too unique and special to change. You have a dark side too. It scares you. But I have one too and we get each other perfectly. You’re sexy, and naughty, and thanks to my supernatural powers I know that even when we are sixty years old I’m going to pinyou down to the bed and have my way with you” Stiles laughed out loud. “You need to know that I’ll always love you, forever. When we go to sleep at night, and we pull each other close, there’s a moment in which our hearts connect and beat at the same rhythm, there’s this connection we have that we can seem to fight, even tought we both have tried before. We are meant to be, I know it, and I know you know it too. I hurt you in the past but you know I’ll never do it again. I love you to hell and back. Will you marry m-” Theo confessed

“Yes! Yes! Theo, yes!” Stiles said falling to his knees to be at Theo’s level and kissing his boyfriend deep in the mouth. Theo chuckled, he also had tears in his eyes, he was emotional after opening his heart to Stiles. “The answer is yes” Stiles repeated.

Theo huffed a laugh. “You didn’t let me ask” Theo teased

“Then ask” Stiles said. Theo looked at Stiles with a confused expression. “I mean it, ask me” Stiles insisted

“Stiles... what....” Theo whispered

“You said that we will know when it will feel right. I feel it, I’m sure. Ask me” Stiles claimed caressing Theo’s left cheek with his hand.

Theo glared at Stiles, he wasn’t kidding, his face showed determination. Theo opened the box revealing the ring, a silver band, simple with an inscription “To my real heart”. Stiles exhaled and smiled brightly.

“Will you marry me?” Theo asked in a soft voice.

“Yes, a million times yes” Stikes said before kissing his boyfriend again. Theo put the ring in Stiles’s finger. “Perfect size” Stiles murmured. Stiles couldn’t stop looking at the ring in his finger. It felt unreal, it was weird but a good kinda weird, it made his stomach rumble with happiness and his heart beat fast. He was happy. “We’re engaged” Stiles declared

“Yeah, we are” Theo agreed. Single tears of happiness falling from his eyes. Stiles jumped on top of Theo making the later’s back touch the floor, and kissed him passionately.

“We’re engaged” Stiles repeated excitedly.

“Yes, I’m your fiancé” Theo proclaimed.

“Oh my god! You’re my fiancé! I have a fiancé! I’m your fiancé! This is crazy!” Stiles laughed uncontrollably pecking Theo all over his face while the Chimera smiled happily. “I have to call my dad! He is going to be so shocked! And what about the wedding!”

“No, no! Don’t think about the wedding! There’s no need to rush! We can have some time to enjoy the engagement” Theo claimed.

“Lydia is going to want to organise it” Stiles said.

Theo’s eyes filled with horror. “How about we elope?” Theo suggested and Stiles snorted.

“You’re right let’s not think about that now. Let’s celebrate. I was promised to be pinned down to the bed at least until we are sixty” Stiles said seductively.

Theo smirked. “I’ll grab a bottle of wine”.

Stiles fell in the bed and looking at the ceiling he couldn’t contain the smile of his face. Just this morning was unsure of this, he was a wreck of nerves, and now everything felt as it should. Theo entered the room with a bottle of wine and two glasses. They newly engaged couple clinked their glasses. For them. For their future. Together.

The next morning Stiles called his father, and much to the FBI Agent’s surprise his father was not shocked in the least about the news.

Two days later Stiles opened his email and saw a message from Lydia.

“I’m sending you some of the venues I looked into for the ceremony. Tell me what you think or I’ll choose the one I like the most...”

“THEO! THEO!!” Stiles shouted his fiancés name. Theo came running to where Stiles was and with one look at his love he knew what was the problem. “If we elope she will never forgive us” Stiles claimed. Theo signed. 

This was only the beginning.

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 17: 2x26 Assignment: Earth

Finally finished up S2 of TOS yesterday. That was... a rough episode tbh. I’m just gonna say it: back door pilots are bad! They’re bad. If I wanted to watch that other show, I’d watch it.

Wow, they’re just really jumping right in, huh? “Here we are, on a routine mission into the past, using a time travel method that we invented nbd.”

Investigating desperate problems in the year 2020...2016.... no wait 1968.

Ooh, Spock in the transport room today. Does he have a whole extra random station there? That’s so weird; I’ve never seen that before. It’s like hidden in the corner.

Cat!! Cat!!

What a good actor. I’m still bitter that wikipedia has a whole section about the casting for “Isis the cat” that talks entirely about the human who played Isis for 2 minutes and nothing about the talented feline actor. Where did they find her? How did they teach her to act?

She has a lot of thoughts about Kirk.

I wrote down “Scully, you’ve got to see this” in my notes and I’ve already forgotten what it refers to lol. Some moment that I thought would fit well with my favorite x-files meme.

Change history, you say? Spock is intrigued. ...Admittedly, Spock is often intrigued.

“What if it turns out you’re an invading alien from the future?” Honestly...let him invade. You’re not supposed to be here anyway.

I’m pretty insulted by this. The aliens went through all this trouble to help in 1968...where are our alien helpers NOW?

The cat straight up attacked his face.

Kirk is so fond of Spock being fond of the cat.

“It’s a lovely animal. I feel myself strangely drawn to it.”

Kirk is way too confused by Seven--an allegedly human person with super-human abilities that he says come from aliens--and yet, he’s met Charlie X so??? Is this not the same?

Kirk’s got the whole crew checking in on zoom.

(I actually do like this sequence of him getting video calls from different parts of the ship.)

“Weren’t orbiting H-bombs a huge problem in 1968?” Looks at the camera like he’s on The Office. Not the subtlest bit of writing in the “social commentary” genre. I do say this with love, though. I always enjoy when they comment on contemporary problems.

“He has a totally perfect body.” Lol don’t distract these two bisexuals.

[soft meowing]

“The prisoner has escaped.” The way this is shot, it looks like he’s talking about the cat.

Hmm, I do love the decor. Very 60s. This honestly immediately feels like a different show, and a much more dated show; even when the Enterprise time travels, it tends not to time travel to... office space.

Love the little sounds the computer makes.

So is Isis supposed to be one of the fancy aliens? It’s never explained but one must assume she is.

Aw, he’s petting her paw.

So I assumed the cats sounds are real, but just dubbed. They’re not lol. Which I guess isn’t surprising: this cat makes a lot of noises! They were provided by a human voice actress.

Damn.... I want a secret bookshelf that turns around to reveal a super computer with a big screen. “Computer... play Netflix.”

That’s what Seven does in his spare time.

The computer is an AI. “Beta 5 snobbery” lol.

Where are OUR alien overlords to stop US from destroying ourselves before WE can mature into a peaceful society?

This is really masterful exposition lol. Not forced or awkward at all.

ST sure does love the snooty female computer trope.

“Get us the proper costumes.” Yes, get Spock his Requisite Hat.

Omicron IV....that’s one of the names they use in Futurama lol. Such nerds.

Another excellent Spock Hat.

I love Seven’s various IDs. Great style. I wish my driver’s license looked like those.

“Who do you think you are?” He hasn’t decided yet. That’s why he was shifting through his IDs.

Seven is not smart lol. Like, he should have figured out way faster that this lady isn’t one of the Alien Overlords. He asks her the code question, she doesn’t understand it, and he... assumes she’s just really in character? Dude, that’s what the code questions are for!!! To help you identify people! Otherwise you could just straight up ask: are you an alien?

Instead he’s like “oh, you silly alien, you’re playing with me,” and then is forced to trap her, reveal his whole mission, and ultimately ensnare her in his plan.

I want that typewriter. Voice recognition typewriter.

"My incompetence has made you aware of very secret devices." Well at least he knows.

Trained cat!

The alien overlords were killed in a random car accident. That’s ironic.

Oh look, a real rocket!

Brown pants + short sleeved shirt + tie is such a Classic 60s look.

This security guard doesn’t think it’s weird that this random dude has a cat with him? Is this part of Isis’s alien power?

Except for the part where it’s a weapon, it’s pretty cool to see all this build up to, like... launching stuff into space. Exciting.

Isis likes to be on shoulders. Just like Little Guy.

New hat for Spock. His outer wear hat, and now his fancy hat. There is something to be said for this ep, and that is Kirk and Spock in suits.

Amazing how they literally launched rockets with computers that old. Like seeing the big bank of primitive computers is totally wild. We put people on the moon that way! Amazing.

“Meow.” Lol, Isis is stressed so she’s speaking like a cat. That’s a pretty funny joke actually.

Seven is so incompetent. If he’d just let the Enterprise help, Scotty could have fixed that rocket issue in like 3 seconds.

Lol everyone’s just pulling Gary through space. Now on the Enterprise. Now in the office.

Why does this computer have a hug black screen if it only displays images on the small white circle?

"Spock and  I in custody. Main characters, doing nothing, knowing nothing, totally useless and irrelevant. I have never felt more helpless." Literally what is even the point of them today? Does Spock even have lines outside of “I like the cat”?

Isis is jealous of Roberta. Is she.. in a relationship with Seven lol?

Uhura is listening to everyone in the world. She probably has a universal translator on, but I do feel like this scene implies she just...understands all the languages.

So now the warhead is armed and heading to somewhere vague... in other words, everyone has collectively made the situation worse.

....Or this was Seven’s plan all along? To scare people into ceasing to be so careful with nuclear weaponry? As someone who knows humans better than this guy, I think this is a dumbass plan.

“That’s why so many people in my generation are kind of crazy and rebels.” Same, sweetheart.

Really this is just a story about bad communication. If Seven had told Kirk his plan upfront, Kirk would have helped him. And if Kirk weren’t so insistent on involving himself in something just because he happens to be somewhere he probably shouldn’t be, we wouldn’t have this issue either. The hubris of everyone.

Overall, just a really forced narrative imo.

Or that’s how it was supposed to be lol. The Irony of time travel. By it’s nature, everything has already worked out.

Kirk and Spock are like “You’re welcome. Peace out.”

Honestly... Isis was the only good part. Such a talented cat actor!! Or trio of cat actors, I guess. Had to do all those stunts and stuff.. .amazing. I also liked the concept of Isis. How she turned into a human later just to troll Roberta. How she’s never really explained--one must assume, an alien? Plus I pretty much never get tired of human + animal teams where the animal makes animal noises and the human just understands and answers in English.

As a stand alone sci fi concept...it was okay. Kinda dated by now. The alien tech was nifty and Roberta could have grown on me. Maybe even Seven, though he left a lot to be desire. That said, the narrative relied a lot on people getting in each other’s way for no reason, which I find very frustrating.

But as a Star Trek episode....no. The main characters were just nuisances on the side lines!! I’m not even sure what Kirk’s mission here was--to try to figure out what Seven was doing? And stop him if necessary? But he never really decided if it was or not, until the point where not trusting him would basically cause a nuclear war? I don’t know, I found it all very frustrating. The melding of the original show and the spinoff was not smooth.

If I were watching this in 1968, I’d feel very cheated. THIS was the season finale? That’s it? I don’t even get a real Star Trek episode and now I have to wait months for anything new?

And what I get after all that waiting is Spock’s Brain?? I’d be tempted to quit. If I had a tumblr in 1969 I’d be writing multi-paragraph rants about how the best show on television has completely nose-dived lol.

But then there’s The Enterprise Incident, which is one of the best episodes... I don’t know, man. It’s a conundrum. I’ve only seen maybe half of season 3 but from what I remember it’s very uneven: some of the best eps (The Enterprise Incident, For the World Is Hollow, Day of the Dove) mixed in with some of the worst (Spock’s Brain, The Paradise Syndrome), plus some that are good concepts but shoddily executed (The Way to Eden). So we’ll see what I think about it when I see it all in one piece, in air date order.

[wr173r-8l0ck]

What if My Hero Academia Characters were in the Riordanverse pt. 1: Students

Yeah, yeah, this is just MHA students for now, I’ll have other characters soon, okay! Anyway, here’s MHA students of 1A and 1B (including Shinso) as demigods in the Riordanverse!

Yuga Aoyama: Son of Aphrodite. Not even a good one, unless you need someone blinded by his glitter-gun. Oh yeah, he has a glitter gun with lasers for maximum flare. Is he completely over-the-top? Absolutely. But is he good in a fight? Surprisingly, yes, kind of very, turns out glitter confuses monsters very well.

Mina Ashido: Daughter of Hermes and legacy of Hecate, capable of inhuman movements and can produce a slime that magically dissolves anything. She also tattooed her eyes black and yellow for some weird masochistic reason that no one, including herself, doesn’t understand. She’s still neat though.

Tsuyu Asui: She’s a frog-turned-human by Ochako. She still has her tongue, leaps, hops, camouflage, a reversible stomach and poison that can kill a group of whales. And he can still inflate her throat like a balloon, which makes for good scares. Very good scares…

Tenya Iida: Son of Mercury, he never skips leg day. Never. Seriously, have you seen those legs? He could crush a car with those puppies! Or crush monster heads with those thunder thighs! Which he actually does quite often. He doesn’t skimp out on upper body exercises either, but LOOK AT THOSE LEGS OF THUNDER!

Ochako Uraraka: Daughter of Hecate, she specializes in a set of spells that manipulate an individual object’s or being’s gravitational pull. It’s gotten to the point where she makes anything she touches with five fingers on one hand, it will float, no matter what, which is why she wears gloves all the time. She likes floating whoever she finds particularly annoying way up into the sky.

Mashirao Ojiro: Son of Mars, he’s an expert martial artist and very, very good at multiple of them. He’s lost multiple sparring partners because of his profinity with a number of weapons, and his lethality without any weapons. Seriously, he once defeated a Drakon with his bare hands! And another dead drakon’s teeth!

Denki Kaminari: Legacy of Zeus and Apollo, each by about 50 generations. About as bright as his godly ancestors (not very), but he still makes one Hel of a lightning bolt, and he’s also pretty good with a guitar and lyre. And classical literature and culture, like Apollo’s Kettle, who taught him all that?!

Eijiro Kirishima: Son/creation of Vulcan, his blood and skin are pure liquid gold, bronze and diamond he can infinitely harden for a period of time. It also obtains unnaturally sharp edges, and given his tendency to go hard when excited, he has made his friends frequent the infirmary for cuts and broken ribs.

Koji Koda: Son of Actaedon, he can talk with wildlife. He’s also a Legacy of Heracles, hence his size. His hugs are nice, war and gentle. Unless you’re an enemy, his bear hugs can break spines and it’s fucking terrifying.

Rikido Sato: Son of Mars, this guy has a serious sweet tooth. He’s also surprisingly gentle for a guy that can decimate an opponent with a single hit. Oh yeah, he can one-shot a hellhound with one punch (que the epic op) to the head.

Mezo Shoji: Son of Ares, he’s surprisingly level-headed. And malicious. Seriously, this guy always has at least ten different weapons on him, on top of him knowing a variety of potentially lethal moves. His arms are known as the Anacondas for a reason. Well, he lost his two precious anacondas in battle, but now he has six bronze automaton anacondas, fuly articulated and loaded up with all kinds of weapons for maximum effectiveness in battle! Actually fuck that, he’s way more terrifying now, who let him get all that stuff?!

Kyoka Jiro: Daughter of Apollo, she’s a top-tier musician, singer and is moderate with a bow and arrow. She can whistle in the ultrasonic range, clap like thunder, sing and play like either a sweet little bird or a whole-ass heavy metal choir without ruining her vocal cords, and she gives the opposite amount of fucks that Zeus does (ie. zero).

Hanta Sero: Son of Hermes, he inherited a pair of magical tape dispensers that can dispense any tape in any amount of any properties he chooses. He uses them to swing around like Spider-Man, which made him a regular visitor of the infirmary until Momo made him a special harness to keep his joints from dislocating. Somehow, he still gets his shoulders dislocated.

Fumikage Tokoyami: Son of Erebos, he suffers from split-personality disorder, but it’s fixed nicely by his inner demon incarnate made of pure darkness he calls Dark Shadow. They have a strangely healthy and wholesome relationship for a boy and his literal inner demon, and they even help each other (or embarass, take your pick) in social interactions.

Shoto Todoroki: A Legacy, descendant of Hel and Surtr, capable of making ice that freezes fire, and fire that burns ice. He gives so little shit he’s actually oblivious to social cues, which makes for more than a few funny moments on quests with him.

Toru Hagakure: Legacy of Iris, she can manipulate light around her to turn invisible or project bright flashes. Campers often say hi to her even if she’s not there just in case.

Katsuki Bakugou: Son of Ares, with rage and instincts of combat so strong and powerful he can convert his sheer rage and passion into explosions in the palms of his hands. He generated more than one explosion with the explosive yield of a nuclear weapon in his life. How he hasn’t gone deaf yet is beyond most people, though he does still know a variety of sign languages in case he does go deaf.

Izuku Midoriya: Son of Athena that was gifted the Spartan Spirit, a powerful enchantment formed by Kratos, Nike, Bia and Zelus, to protect humanity in its greatest times of need, and bestowed upon the most well-meaning and kind-hearted individuals of an era. He ends up breaking his bones an absolute shitton, and is a regular at the infirmary. The healers and smiths absolutely loathe him by now.

Minoru Mineta: Died on a quest. His quest-mates say ‘by accident’. Everyone knows it was very deliberate, but then again, everyone hated him and is fine with him dead. Some people wanted to be the ones to kill him though.

Momo Yaoyorozu: A Legacy, granddaughter of Hephaestus and Athena, capable of making virtually any machine. She’s also very fidgety, and once made an entire army of fully autonomous grass soldiers that went on to terrorize the other campers for a bit. In thirty minutes.

Yosetsu Awase: Son of Hephaestus, he also likes to make stuff. Though mostly he combines already existing tools, gadgets and machines, and makes weird amalgamations. He once fused an automaton bull, an automaton dragon and a school bus, and it actually, somehow, despite all logic and reason, fucking works.

Sen Kaibara: Son of Ares, he’s pretty chill compared to his kin (especially Katsuki and Setsuna), mainly due to him bottling up his anger. Which he can unleash as tornadoes around his limbs, which he can use to drill through walls. Thank gods he doesn’t lose it too often.

Togaru Kamakiri: Son of Ceres, he likes farming tools. Especially ones with blades. That’s lead to him using all kinds of sickles, scythes (both farming tools and war scythes) in combat, and even axes, shovels, various lawn mowers...

Shihai Kuroiro: Son of Nyx, him and Tokoyami get along exceptionally well. Given his ability to shadow-travel and use shadows and darkness as materials to make some pretty nifty weapons only he can use, he’s strangely bright and like a Sun. At least among the two stepbrothers of darkness, and the bar for eing the sunny one is set very low.

Itsuka Kendo: Daughter of Athena, she excels in critical thinking and a variety of martial arts. And knocking out her piers with precise attacks when they start to get exceptionally annoying. Mostly Monoma. Scratch that, especially Monoma. Okay, nevermind, only Monoma.

Yui Kodai: Daughter of Trivia. She excels in potions and spells that manipulate the size of objects, so much so that she has to resort to gloves because she now naturally makes things smaller with her left hand, or bigger with her right hand. She’s the calm one of the 20 people here.

Kinoko Komori: Daughter of Demeter, she has a soft spot for fungi and mushrooms. Which she can make grow rapidly. Very rapidly. She’s fun at parties.

Ibara Shiozaki: Daughter of Demeter, she dyes her hair green with actual chlorophyll for some reason (“To feel one with the beautiful plants,” she says), but she can also grow and manipulate vines and other vine-like plants, along with trees, quite effectively, and she has some rose and poison oak (she’s immune to it) seeds in her hair. Don’t ask, her answers are just as ridiculous as the chlorophyll-dyed hair.

Jurota Shishida: Son of Mars, he’s been cursed by most likely Hera to be a humanoid boar/dog thing. He’s especially good at wrestling, and is very diplomatic in his approach. Until he gets pissed, then he charges like a boar and yes, he keeps those tusks of his sharp.

Niregeki Shoda: Legacy of Hermes, son of Hephaestus, he likes to make explosives and plant them everywhere. More than a few campers were scared. Except Katsuki, who tried to outdo the ground (Niregeki’s mine) in explosive yield and put skylight access in the roof of Bunker 9. Niregeki had to repair it.

Pony Tsunotori: Legacy of Poseidon, she can shapeshift. She likes to shapeshift into horses, bulls, deer and goats (including mooses and buffalo), and she has a nifty gadget from the Hephaestus and Vulcan campers in the shape of horns that transform with her, giving her detachable remote-control horns. 

Kosei Tsuburaba: Legacy of Jupiter, son of Ares, he’s competitive and can make walls and blades out of air. Especially annoying for monsters because they can’t get to him, period, and every time they try, they don’t get past his walls of air for a whole minute before someone either cuts/hacks/slices them to bits, freezes/burns them alive, blows them up with their fists/explosives/expanding stones they previously ingested or some other way of disposing of a monster.

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu: Son of Vulcan, capable of turning to pure steel over his entire body, also increasing his strength. Because of this, and his tendency to go hard whenever he’s excited, he’s made his friends frequent the infirmary for bruises and broken ribs. Except Kirishima.

Setsuna Tokage: Daughter of Ares, she’s actually been hurt pretty badly in one of her fights (she went on a Quest with Katsuki, and no, it wasn’t him who hurt her, and yes, no one really believes that story either) and had to have automaton grafts to replace her limbs, a part of her lower jaw, her eyes and the muscles around her spine, along with parts of the vertebrae. Which she asked to be detachable and splittable in as many pieces as possible, which she can control telepathically and uses to troll other campers. A lot. Especially two certain sons of Vulcan and her half-siblings.

Manga Fukidashi: No one knows what he is, they just know his head is a speech bubble and he can make anything he writes real.

Juzo Honenuki: Legacy of Gaia, he can virtually liquify the ground (does not work on metal or wooden floors). He trolls a lot with this ability. And I do mean a lot.

Kojiro Bondo: A golem? A person? His head makes it hard to tell whether he’s a demigod or a monster to be honest. And his glue-like spit doesn’t help much either.

Neito Monoma: Legacy of, you guessed it, Zeus! He has a superiority complex because of this, and he frequents the infirmary on the basis of Itsuka or whoever he was annoying KOing him constantly. All that brain damage probably isn’t helping his mental issues…

Reiko Yanagi: Daughter of Hecate she can make things she touches float and fly around using some sort of incantation. The biggest she can do is double her own body weight, but that doesn’t stop her from delivering high-speed flying punches and scaring other campers.

Hiryu Rin: Son of Mars and Legacy of Poseidon, he can shapeshift into various animals. Most notably a mix of human, hedgehog and a lizard. Sharp, painful and deadly precise. And also meditating. And a lot of it.

[justal0wk3yg4mer]

Things I’ve Said: [Prototype]  (Some Spoilers)

Hello all you amazing gamers and non gamers! [Prototype], and I can say this with no regrets, is one of my favorite games. It was actually the game that got me into gaming. My friend introduced me to it years ago. I never got to finish it, but the bits I played were fun. I thought the story was interesting and the protagonist was awesome. Couple of months ago, I saw the [Prototype] bundle on sale and thought why not. I’m a little hesitant to play the sequel, I’ve heard some things. If you guys think it’s worth it let me know. Anyway, on to my stupidity!

Me:                                                                                                                          *Player/My actions*                                                                                                Character dialogue

Oh fuck, I forgot how deep his voice was. 

*Trying to find the pause button and accidentally skipped the cut-scene.* Well fuck, I know what I’m going to be doing on accident a lot.

I forgot how much fucking chaos was in these first few scenes.

Now why would you think that your one measly bullet killed him after you’re buddies shot him up earlier?

*Breaks soldiers neck.* OOF...........I felt that.

Mission ‘Find out who you are’? That is too funny. Everyone watch out for Alex Mercer the tackling Alzheimer bioweapon. (Scrubs anyone?)

I am incognito! *Violently pushes people aside.*

The simple act of jumping building to building gives me anxiety.

I give that kinda unnecessary slow-mo landing a 9/10.

Excuse me sir, I’ve done more than 50 of your men. Wait, no, not like that.

Gliding is the best power in this game and if I somehow lose it, I will cry.

Why two? Bitch you know he’s not normal, get a sample from him and then get a sample from the hive.

*Watches a memory* Holy shit, y’all ain’t Blackwatch. Y’all are suicide squad.

I love McMullen’s face. He just like “Really? Really bitch?”  

You wanna get out? You’re takin’ me with you fucker.

I don’t know why but the OCD in me demands a perfect landing each time. Just because Mercer is some weird bio-thing doesn’t mean he has to have shitty landings.

How do you not have enough, that’s bullshit! Also I don’t like you, I don’t like what you just said and I don’t like how you said it. I’m 95% sure that she is gonna betray Alex.

Oh, there’s a parasite in him. That’s nice. Also............how?

What the FUCK is on your back?! Get that shit off.

How does one infect an infected?

There’s a tank on fire! I didn’t do it.

So wait, Alex is infected with a parasite. We had to go to find bodies for whatever reason, now we possibly have a cure but we have to find a SPECIFIC hunter to infect antibodies with. Eat said hunter and then be cured. I’m no scientists but come on now.

Alex: I’m back.                                                                                              And better than ever! You’ve unlocked a new skin.

Soldier: There are two types of war America doesn’t want to fight in, nuclear and this (viral outbreak).                                                               That.............was very chilling.

Aw, what a good sister! And now after a nice and heart warming moment, something bad will happen.

Y’all are some of the stupidest motherf*ckers I have ever evaded. And I’ve played Assassin’s Creed. 

Y’all gettin’ wrecked out here.

SEIZURE!!!!  

I gotta eat one of those ugly motherf*ckers?

Oh that’s a big boi right there. How much you wanna bet Dana is in there. *A minute later*                                                                                              Wow! Dana is in there. Shocking!

Elizabeth: We are the reason for everything.                                            Since when are you God bitch?

You know, after awhile I would think that Blackwatch would kind of understand what Alex can do. Run up the side of a building? Glide in the air? No one else can do that shit. But no, I can run up a wall in full view of soldiers and everything is fine.

Alex: *nervously* Okay, gotta play along. Roger HQ, en-route now.      I’m sorry but that was fucking adorable.

I am literally the dog on fire meme right now.

WTF is that noise?! *Waits a second* Holy shit, my controller is breathing.

*Watching a cut-scene and sees two Blackwatch soldiers walking in mid-air.*                                                                                                                That is some black magic BS. And there is no magic in this game!

All that work, and all I had to do was play dead.

Alex: Her unique genetic code.....                                                             She’s a redhead. We’re all types of fun.

Alex: I was made for this.                                                                           For fucks sake, I���m getting Thief (2014) flashbacks.

Oh well, that’s cool. Every time I die in this boss fight I get to watch Manhattan get bombed.

*Playing the boss fight for the 20th time and finally beating it.*                    YYYYEEESSSSS!!!! FUCK YOU CROSS!!!!

Mercer kinda pulled an Iron Man.

Huh. What an aesthetically morbid ending.

For this post’s tally, when you see it you’ll wonder why; if you play the game, you’ll figure it out:

I wasn’t doing anything!?!: 186                                                                                                       

[arcticdementor]

I linked this at instapundit some time ago. But from the fact that a friend sent me this link today, I presume it’s not widely known. The link I put at instapundit was from American Thinker. And for once their title was the most accurate thing ever: Executive Order Canceling the Constitution.

If you’re wondering how that is possible, wonder no more. You know how our government freezes assets of enemy governments? Like Iran’s assets that the FICUS is dying to unfreeze ASAP?

Well, the veneer-thin coat of legality on this bullshit relates to that. At the same time that Dementia Joe and The Commie Ho are giving money and actual nuclear tech to declared enemies of the US, they are declaring US citizens who so much as dare talk against them as enemy collaborators and traitors. And because they’re owned by China (though anyone who thinks that stopping fracking and the keystone pipeline is not a big sloppy kiss to Putin needs their heads examined. It’s in fact the kiss of life, since the only thing Russians have worth anything is oil and they were in deep trouble before China stooges stole our elections) they are of course doing it by screaming Russia, Russia Russia!

…

All they have to do is make a list of those they consider to be Russian agents. The executive order itself says you can’t dispute your inclusion in this list.

(c) This order is not intended to, and does not, create any right or benefit, substantive or procedural, enforceable at law or in equity by any party against the United States, its departments, agencies, or entities, its officers, employees, or agents, or any other person.

Oh, yeah, all your property will be impounded, and everyone is forbidden from doing business with you. On the say-so of corrupt agencies and people who have been lying to us for years.

And there’s nothing you can do, and anyone who helps you faces a similar fate.

…

This was signed on the 15th of April. Do you think there aren’t already things going on to make this work? Do you think that we’re not all already on that list?

Do you think it’s a coincidence you’ve not seen this bullshit anywhere? (And btw the link on top is to the government itself.)

Now, if they were sending goons to collect you, those of you who haven’t lost all your guns in a tragic boating accident would shoot, and it would be on like Donkey Kong.

But that’s not what will happen, and that’s why I’m writing this and asking everyone of you who has a blog and who knows they’re probably already on the list to share it. Or of course if you’re brave enough not to mind if you’re on the list. Note the “your spouse and adult children” too, which is intended to stop you doing anything, for the love of your kids.

I’ve seen this before. Very few people know that the “revolutionary” governments in Portugal froze bank accounts and assets of anyone who spoke out against them. One day you’d go to your bank to remove money, and you couldn’t. Your bank account was frozen as an enemy of the state.

Oh, you have a mortgage? Kids in school? Bills to pay? How terrible and sad it is that you are now functionally a pauper.

As for suddenly finding no one would give you a job, I never even figured out how word went out on that, and I don’t if anyone ever did.

Now, the times we’re living in? Will anyone notice a large number of people becoming suddenly unemployed, and/or having their house foreclosed upon? Help? Well, all they have to do is send a few people who look like government agents to your neighborhood and ask your neighbors (and friends, and associates) questions while strongly implied you’re a traitor working for a foreign power.

Your weapons? Well, then. Surely, you’ll sell them long before it comes time to …. well…. to starve I suppose.

Oh, but surely states will oppose this?

If it’s done the way it was in Portugal, most people won’t even be aware it is going on. Whatever the mechanisms are for flagging foreign enemies in the US — and they are there, and have been, from when our agencies were slightly less corrupt than they are now — will just be deployed, as they have always been, but against anyone who publicly and loudly disapproves of the Junta.

…

And the thing is it will be done behind the scenes, quietly. Through extorsion, and cancelling and whisper campaigns, to discredit and destroy their enemies, and taint them with the label of foreign agents, all without a legal process or any sort of ability to confront their accusers.

At some point, they’ll “notice” the ten million or so new homeless, (hell, the opening of the borders might disguise this, rather neatly, too) and out of their “humane concern,” they’ll create places you can go and be housed and fed.

Do I need to tell you it’s a trap?

This is just a way to round up desperate people. It might also in the end be a way to get rid of the homeless, which rest assured they intend to, once they’re done using it to drive the country’s cities to shit.

Paranoid? Did you read that Executive Order? If not, go do it, I’ll wait.

Now will this be applied ruthlessly and efficiently? Guys, this lot couldn’t shoot a lame fish in a barrel. No, but it will be applied irregularly, annoyingly, and deployed as an instrument of terror to make a large number of people shut up and go along, for fear for their livelihood, their kids, their friends.

It will be, as what they’re already doing to the military and police, a shit show designed to cow people into silence and into fear of losing everything.

Will it work? Oh, for a while at least. I mean, it is working on our military and police.

In my case it puts me in a bit of a pickle, as I don’t like camping, and I’m not young enough to survive long out there. But that’s okay. Personal survival is desirable but not important.

…

So, I know in the long run they can’t win. In fact, the harder they push, the faster they fall.

BUT–

If this goes into action, as stupid and imperfectly as it will be implemented, it will hurt and perhaps kill a lot of people.

If you’re at risk:

1- Have an alternate identity if you can. I don’t even know how to go about that, except perhaps a ring around the rosy of dbas, trusts and corps. Remember, they’re not nearly as efficient or good at tracing things as they think they are. Our secret services were redesigned by a man who can’t figure out how to go through a gate with an umbrella. And he hired people who think he’s smart.

2- Be ready to decamp at the drop of a hat, if it becomes obvious your financial life is frozen, and there’s nothing you can do for money. Decamp where? Well, not abroad. As I pointed out above, if the wheels come off here, they’ll come off and explode abroad. If you can own something outright through a trust or a corp or something, this might be a place to go. If you can’t…. have you considered winter camping gear?

3- Don’t leave yourself defenseless. Don’t sell weapons. Don’t consign yourself to the tender mercies of the government.

Oh, yeah, and keep your clothes and weapons where you can find them in the dark.

4- Other than that? Find a way to keep being heard. If all you can do is paint the words in blood on phone poles do so. But again, they’re not nearly as smart as they think they are. Find new identities and new ways back on line.

All you have to do is survive this for a year, maybe a little more. And the way to survive it is not to act the way the left would, which is the way they expect everyone to act.

Don’t surrender. Don’t give up. Don’t ask for help.

And keep coming back when they least expect it.

If that EO doesn’t show you they’re not Americans, they’re insane, and they mean to be dictators, I don’t know what will. Make sure people know the powers the Junta is arrogating to itself. Make sure they can’t do this quietly.

And may G-d have mercy on America.

[l0uk45]

If students from class 1A and 1B were part of the Riordanverse:

Yuga Aoyama: Son of Aphrodite. Not even a good one, unless you need someone blinded by his glitter-gun. Oh yeah, he has a glitter gun with lasers for maximum flare. Is he completely over-the-top? Absolutely. But is he good in a fight? Surprisingly, yes.

Mina Ashido: Daughter of Hermes and legacy of Hecate, capable of inhuman movements and can produce a slime that magically dissolves anything. She also tattooed her eyes black and yellow for some weird masochistic reason.

Tsuyu Asui: She’s a frog-turned-human by Ochako. She still has her tongue, leaps, hops, camouflage, a reversible stomach and poison that can kill a group of whales. And he can still inflate her throat like a balloon, which makes for good scares.Very good scares…

Tenya Iida: Son of Mercury, he never skips leg day. Never. Seriously, have you seen those legs? He could crush a car with those puppies! Or crush monster heads! Which he does do quite often! He doesn’t skimp out on upper body exercises either, but LOOK AT THOSE LEGS OF THUNDER!

Ochako Uraraka: Daughter of Hecate, she specializes in a set of spells that manipulate an individual object’s or being’s gravitational pull. It’s gotten to the point where she makes anything she touches with five fingers on one hand, it will float, no matter what, which is why she wears gloves all the time.

Mashirao Ojiro: Son of Mars, he’s an expert martial artist and very, very good at multiple of them. He’s lost multiple sparring partners because of his profinity with a number of weapons, and his lethality without any weapons.

Denki Kaminari: Legacy of Zeus and Apollo, each by about 50 generations. About as bright as his godly ancestors (not very), but he still makes one Hel of a lightning bolt, and he’s also pretty good with a guitar and lyre. 

Eijiro Kirishima: Son of Vulcan, his blood and skin are pure liquid gold, bronze and diamond he can infinitely harden for a period of time. It also obtains unnaturally sharp edges, and given his tendency to go hard when excited, he has made his friends frequent the infirmary for cuts and broken ribs.

Koji Koda: Son of Actaedon, he can talk with wildlife. He’s also a Legacy of Heracles, hence his size. His hugs are nice, war and gentle.

Rikido Sato: Son of Mars, this guy has a serious sweet tooth. He’s also surprisingly gentle for a guy that can decimate an opponent with a single hit.

Mezo Shoji: Son of Ares, he’s surprisingly level-headed. And malicious. Seriously, this guy always has at least ten different weapons on him, on top of him knowing a variety of potentially lethal moves. His arms are known as the Anacondas for a reason.

Kyoka Jiro: Daughter of Apollo, she’s a top-tier musician, singer and is moderate with a bow and arrow. She can whistle in the ultrasonic range, clap like thunder, sing and play like either a sweet little bird or a whole-ass heavy metal choir without ruining her vocal cords, and she gives the opposite amount of fucks that Zeus does (ie. zero).

Hanta Sero: Son of Hermes, he inherited a pair of magical tape dispensers that can dispense any tape in any amount of any properties he chooses. He uses them to swing around like Spider-Man, which made him a regular visitor of the infirmary until Momo made him a special harness to keep his joints from dislocating. 

Fumikage Tokoyami: Son of Erebos, he suffers from split-personality disorder, but it’s fixed nicely by his inner demon incarnate made of pure darkness he calls Dark Shadow. They have a strangely healthy relationship for a boy and his literal inner demon.

Shoto Todoroki: A Legacy, descendant of Hel and Surtr, capable of making ice that freezes fire, and fire that burns ice. He gives so little shit he’s actually oblivious to social cues, which makes for more than a few funny moments on quests with him.

Toru Hagakure: Legacy of Iris, she can manipulate light around her to turn invisible or project bright flashes

Katsuki Bakugou: Son of Ares, with rage and instincts of war so strong and powerful he can convert his sheer rage into explosions in the palms of his hands. He generated more than one explosion with the explosive yield of a nuclear weapon in his life. How he hasn’t gone deaf yet is beyond most people, though he does still know a variety of sign languages.

Izuku Midoriya: A mortal, capable of seeing through the mist, was gifted the Spartan Spirit, a spirit formed by Kratos, Nike, Bia and Zelus, to protect humanity in its greatest times of need. He ends up breaking his bones an absolute shitton, and is a regular at the infirmary.

Minoru Mineta: Died on a quest. His quest-mates say ‘by accident’. Everyone knows it was very deliberate, but then again, everyone hated him and is fine with him dead. Some people wanted to be the ones to kill him though.

Momo Yaoyorozu: A Legacy, granddaughter of Hephaestus and Athena, capable of making virtually any machine. She’s also very fidgety, and once made an entire army of fully autonomous grass soldiers that went on to terrorize the other campers for a bit. In thirty minutes.

Class 1B:

Yosetsu Awase: Son of Hephaestus, he also likes to make stuff. Though mostly he combines already existing tools, gadgets and machines, and makes weird amalgamations. He once fused an automaton bull, an automaton dragon and a school bus, and it actually works.

Sen Kaibara: Son of Ares, he’s pretty chill compared to his kin (especially Katsuki and Setsuna), mainly due to him bottling up his anger. Which he can unleash as tornadoes around his limbs, which he can use to drill through walls. Thank gods he doesn’t lose it too often.

Togaru Kamakiri: Son of Ceres, he likes farming tools. Especially ones with blades. That’s lead to him using all kinds of sickles, scythes (both farming tools and war scythes) and even a few lawn mowers, shovels, axes...

Shihai Kuroiro: Son of Nyx, him and Tokoyami get along exceptionally well. Given his ability to shadow-travel and use shadows and darkness as materials to make some pretty nifty weapons only he can use.

Itsuka Kendo: Daughter of Athena, she excels in critical thinking and a variety of martial arts. And knocking out her piers with precise attacks when they start to get exceptionally annoying.

Yui Kodai: Daughter of Trivia. She excels in potions and spells that manipulate the size of objects, so much so that she has to resort to gloves because she now naturally makes things smaller with her left hand, or bigger with her right hand. She’s the calm one.

Kinoko Komori: Daughter of Demeter, she has a soft spot for fungi and mushrooms. Which she can make grow rapidly. Very rapidly. She’s fun at parties.

Ibara Shiozaki: Daughter of Demeter, she dyes her hair green with actual chlorophyll for some reason (“To feel one with the beautiful plants,” she says), but she can also grow and manipulate vines and other vine-like plants, along with trees, quite effectively, and she has some rose and poison oak (she’s immune to it) seeds in her hair. Don’t ask, her answers are just as ridiculous as the chlorophyll-dyed hair.

Jurota Shishida: Son of Mars, he’s been cursed by most likely Hera to be a humanoid boar/dog thing. He’s especially good at wrestling, and is very diplomatic in his approach. Until he gets pissed, then he charges like a boar and yes, he keeps those tusks of his sharp on a regular basis.

Niregeki Shoda: Legacy of Hermes, son of Hephaestus, he likes to make explosives and plant them everywhere. More than a few campers were scared. Except Katsuki, who tried to outdo the ground (Niregeki’s mine) in explosive yield and put skylight access in the roof of Bunker 9. Niregeki had to repair it.

Pony Tsunotori: Legacy of Poseidon, she can shapeshift. She likes to shapeshift into horses, bulls, deer and goats (including mooses and buffalo), and she has a nifty gadget from the Hephaestus and Vulcan campers in the shape of horns that transform with her, giving her detachable remote-control horns. 

Kosei Tsuburaba: Legacy of Jupiter, son of Ares, he’s competitive and can make walls and blades out of air. Especially annoying for monsters because they can’t get to him, period, and every time they try, they don’t get past his walls of air for a whole minute before someone either cuts/hacks/slices them to bits, freezes/burns them alive, blows them up with their fists/explosives/expanding stones they previously ingested or some other way of disposing a monster.

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu: Son of Vulcan, capable of turning to pure steel over his entire body, also increasing his strength. Because of this, and his tendency to go hard whenever he’s excited, he’s made his friends frequent the infirmary for bruises and broken ribs.

Setsuna Tokage: Daughter of Ares, she’s actually been hurt pretty badly in one of her fights (she went on a Quest with Katsuki, and no, it wasn’t him who hurt her) and had to have automaton grafts to replace her limbs, a part of her lower jaw, her eyes and the muscles around her spine, along with parts of the vertebrae. Which she asked to be detachable and splittable in as many pieces as possible, which she can control telepathically and uses to troll other campers. A lot. Especially two certain sons of Vulcan.

Manga Fukidashi: No one knows what he is, they just know his head is a speech bubble and he can make anything he writes real.

Juzo Honenuki: Legacy of Gaia, he can virtually liquify the ground (does not work on metal or wooden floors). He trolls a lot with this ability. And I do mean a lot.

Kojiro Bondo: A golem? A person? His head makes it hard to tell whether he’s a demigod or a monster to be honest. And his glue-like spit doesn’t help much either.

Neito Monoma: Legacy of, you guessed it, Zeus! He has a superiority complex because of this, and he frequents the infirmary on the basis of Itsuka or whoever he was annoying KOing him constantly. All that brain damage probably isn’t helping his mental issues...

Reiko Yanagi: Daughter of Hecate she can make things she touches float and fly around using some sort of incantation. The biggest she can do is double her own body weight, but that doesn’t stop her from delivering high-speed flying punches and scaring other campers.

Hiryu Rin: Son of Mars and Legacy of Poseidon, he can shapeshift into various animals. Most notably a mix of human, hedgehog and a lizard. Sharp, painful and deadly precise. And also meditating. And a lot of it.

[cecilspeaks]

160 - The Weather

No man is an island. Some men are fjords. Most men are oxbows. All men are ravines. Welcome to Night Vale.

The news coming up. But first, let’s go to the weather.

[nature noises, birds cawing]

There’s a cold front moving through Night Vale. Temperature at City Hall is currently 63 degrees and sunny with wind gusts later this afternoon of up to 40 miles per hour. These winds are expected to bring cold air as low as 20 degrees this evening, and possibly dropping to below zero overnight. It’s unknown what’s causing this weather, is a statement I make every day, looking out into the sky. Is it God? P-perhaps it is the government. Perhaps Earth itself is, is it out of boredom that the weather exists? Maybe it is out of care. That would suggest the existence of a God who wishes us well, but it does not explain the fierce destructiveness of a blizzard, or a heat wave, or a tornado, or a tsunami. Is a tsunami weather? That is a question best left to oceanographers, meteorologists, or a Tarot deck. But why would God make a thing, then mar it? What mood change is this? what care can this god have for humanity? Ahhhh. And maybe that’s the point. Ah, that does make me feel better, to think that it all doesn’t matter. It really takes a lot of pressure off, doesn’t it?

Let’s have a look at agriculture. John Peters – you know, the farmer – says his orange crop this year is massive. He says the quantity of product has not deviated, only the quality. “Them oranges are huuuu-uuge!” John said, holding an orange the size of the 2002 iMac computer. “I can’t fit this thing into one of them orange crushers (what that) I make the juice with!” he said, struggling to keep his back straight under the weight of the abnormally sized citrus fruit. But John says he’s excited for his orange grove, which has been doing great ever since he genetically modified his crop to no longer cause teleportation across existential dimensions when consumed. Despite his excitement for orange sales, John says he’s worried about next year’s crop of invisible corn. He said he looked up summer 2020 in his farmer’s almanac and all it said was, “Wellll crap. Good luck.” John plans to diversify his farm investment by raising cattle for slaughter. He’s vegan these days, so he does not want to sell the cattle for meat or dairy. He’ll just raise the cattle until they’re old enough to kill. Best of luck in all your endeavours, John! Hope you finally win that coveted Best Orange at the Citrus Festival this year.

Many of our listeners have written concerned emails about the temperature possibly falling below zero. Bob Sturm of Old Town said: “Zero is the lowest number, Cecil. I’m a big stats guy and I can tell you that you cannot have less than nothing, that’s impossible.” Well listen Bob, I’m a journalist, not a numerologist, so I don’t know what to tell you. Apparently there are many unknown numbers below zero, and as they are discovered, rest assured I will be here to report on them. (Reina Guerrero) from the west side asked if there’s anything we can do to better prepare ourselves for this weather. Well (Reina), here are some tips I just looked up online. One: bundle up. Yeah, your heater can only do so much. Two: bring your pets indoors, and if you have an agent from a Vague, yet Menacing Government Agency outside your home assigned to record your every movement, invite them in as well. You don’t want them freezing alone out there in their black sedan. Three: light a fire, if you have a fireplace. If you do not have a fireplace of pellet stove, try using a refrigerator or sink. Four: if you should lose power at any time, do not panic. Just curl into a ball breathing heavily and repeating: “Oh God no, oh God no, oh God no, oh God no”, through loudly chattering teeth.

Now, we’re not expecting precipitation tonight, but should it snow, I recommend making a snow angel. Yeaaah, that’s always fun. All you have to do is lie flat on your back, arms and legs outstretched, until you are called into celestial service to whatever greater authority rules these beautiful creatures. Thank you for your questions and comments. I’ll do my best to keep our town up to date on the latest weather.

But first, this Saturday is Night Vale’s annual Holiday Fireworks Extravaganza at the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area. There will be live music by local bands, including  a new band by Dark Owl Records owner Michelle Nguyen and her girlfriend Maureen. [quietly] Ah, my old intern Maureen. Their band is called The Funtastics, and it’s a folk country slash (trans) tribute band performing the acappella covers of Philip Glass scores. According to Michelle’s press release: “Please do not watch our show. I’m very angry you even know about it. I hate that our secret concert at the annual Holiday Fireworks Extravaganza, Night Vale’s most anticipated and attended annual event, was leaked to the press.” Following the concert, there will be a collective prayer to the [gong, echoing] Great! Golden! Hand! And then the fireworks will begin. Event organizers say they have a special fireworks display in store for attendees this year. Traditionally, the biggest explosions are reserved for the end of a half-hour long buildup of lesser explosions, but focus groups have indicated that people are tired of having to wait for the best part. So instead of normal boring fireworks, they will be blowing up old cars using the 18,000 tons of solid fuel they found at an abandoned missile silo on the edge of the Sand Wastes. The Holiday Fireworks Extravaganza would like to thank the Sheriff’s Secret Police for the vehicle donations, which are mostly cars impounded this past week for overdue state inspection stickers. Can’t wait to see everybody this Saturday at the Fireworks Extravaganzaa!

Brrrr! It’s getting pretty bad out there, Night Vale! The temperature has fallen dramatically to 20 degrees outside the radio station. I can hear the creak and groan of our antenna straining under the 40 mile per hour winds. I’ve seen three different minor accidents outside my window as drivers lost control of their vehicles. I’ve got my little space heater under my desk. Huh, but I can still barely feel my feet. [chuckles] I regret choosing today of all days to bike to work. [sighs]

Oh, I’m getting word that power is out in the Barista District, and dozens of leather apron wearing people have been forced to make torches out of Irish cream soaked biscotti stuffed into (-) [0:09:16]. And the only thing available coffee wise right now is cold brew. Gross.

Employees at the Night Vale power plant are working to restore power to that area of town, but they have run into some difficulties. The blustery winds and extreme cold have kept some of the workers from being able to drive to the plant, and the ones already on site re perplexed by how any of this works. “We are not sure if this is a nuclear plant or electric or coal or what,” said Mike Reiner, director of operations for the power plant. “We tried turning the whole thing off and back on like a computer, but the switch didn’t really do anything. Nobody labels anything around here, for crying out loud.” Reiner then began to cry out loud, as dozens of workers rushed to put their arms around the sobbing man. “We’re sorry, boss, we’re sorry,” the frantic workers all repeated. In the chaos of the consoling, a single worker was heard whimpering: “Oh god! Someone do something before he changes back into…” But that voice was quickly and fearfully shushed by the others.

More on the power outage and weather conditions soon.

But let’s get to some good news. Our population is booming, Night Vale! We have more people than houses. But thankfully, the good folks of the private land development industry are helping out. Ah, the altruistic hand of capitalism! A new housing development named The Final Destination is going up in Radon Canyon. New homes start in the 130’s for 2 bedroom semi-detached townhouses, all the way to expensive 10 bedroom estates with beautiful views of the blue..ish mist that settles every morning along the canyon bottom. Representatives from the EPA have warned against building residences in an area known for producing toxic gases, but the developers said they will equip each home with a large exhaust fan and provide a lifetime supply of rebreathers for the first 15 home buyers. The EPA has tried repeatedly to stop this development, stating that excavation of the canyon floor could lead to the release of more gases, which would catastrophically imperil not only the lives of those in the canyon, but the Earth’s atmosphere for hundreds, if not thousands of miles in all directions. “Who knows what’s beneath the shale in that canyon?” one EPA representative said. The representative was wearing a sports coat too large for his frame and comically out of date glasses. He continued: “We have been trying to declare Radon Canyon a Superfund site for years, but Night Vale doesn’t show up in any government database and so it cannot receive its projection. Didn’t you ever see the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, how everybody’s faces melted off, it’d be just like that.” When it was pointed out that the end of that movie was good because it was Nazi faces melting, the EPA representative said: “Yeah yeah you’re right, that was pretty cool but still, get what I’m trying to say right?” Nobody did, because it was a weird thing to bring up a 40-year-old movie about Nazis and museum artefacts. So, now we will have new housing in the heart of Night Vale’s most beautiful scenic attraction, beginning spring next year.

I’m getting word that the power is out now in Old Town Night Vale and at the library, and on the south end. The temperature has dropped to 5 degrees and I think it will continue to plummet throughout the night. People are doing everything they can to prepare. Before the stores close, I recommend driving out and picking up some water as well as canned goods, even some fresh produce and raw meat while it’s still there. I mean, people worked hard to grow that food ten states away and then drive it across the country right here to you and you haven’t bought it yet? Even if your refrigerator’s not working because of the power outages, it’ll be cold enough in your house to keep it all fresh. So get out there and spend your money on food! We have so much of it. Let’s use it, Night Vale.

But above all: stay warm! If you’re alone, visit a neighbor. Body heat and company can help a lot in weather like this. And if you have room in your home, welcome your neighbors in! There’s no reason to be alone at a time likes. Plus it’s the holiday season, why not keep each other warm with stories, with camaraderie, with good fellowship? [shivering noises] Yet, if you can’t be with others tonight, [groans] then I will do my best to keep you company through this brutal cold.

Ah, I’d like to tell you a story of my childhood. It’s a very personal story, one I‘ve never shared on the air before. [shivering noises] I’m a bit nervous to tell it to you all, but if ever there was time for a story to bring us closer together, now is that time. I will tell you that story in a moment, but first, let’s have a look at sports.

[“Suspension of Disbelief” by Victory Soul Orchestra https://victorysoulorchestra.com]

[beeps] Computer: The National Weather Service has issued a severe weather warning for the greater Night Vale area. Temperatures as low as -10 degrees are predicted with high winds gusting up to 16 miles per hour. Wind chills overnight may reach -30 degrees. Residents of Night Vale and the surrounding towns of Pine Cliff, Red Mesa, and Desert Bluffs too should seek shelter. They should band together around fireplaces with heaters at their highest settings. In cases where heat sources are not accessible or operating, residents should huddle in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. Come huddle with us. Come huddle with us. There is a barrel here. It is filled with trash and we have lit it on fire. It is so warm, the trash. The trash is mostly paper and cardboard, but it is also something greater than that. It is a symbol of progress of the great tower of industry (and need) [0:19:51], a ruined towel like Babyl, which just toppled down of the weight of its hubris, and in the language of flame it tells us things. It tells us so much, not through words but through visions. 

Here is a list of visions the fire has revealed to us. One: two spools of coaxial cable. Two: a single white bulb atop of an anthill. Three: an empty keg around squat cylinder of frosting, beneath which lies nothing, not even air. A void (cake). “Happy birthday,” echoes the choir from a good distance away. Four: a great black bird whose white wings brush along the castle turret. Five: a snake spiraled and asleep inside a leather boot. Six: a wheelless tractor in a vast wasteland of cracked earth. Seven: your brother. Not a brother you know, but a brother you once had. He looks like you and he repeats your name, but backwards. Eight: smoke clouds shaped like vice grips.   These are the visions of the flames in the barrel in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. 

Beneath our gaze and across our minds, beyond our consciousness, these are the remains of the great tower of humanity. Come huddle with us. You without heat. You without home. You without hope. Come huddle with us. 

This severe weather warning is in effect (through) 8 PM tomorrow, when the warm front is expected to move through the region bringing sunny skies and high temperatures in the mid-80’s, and everyone will return to their normal lives, satisfied that they have (-) [0:21:51] death once again, confusing accidental survival with competence and immortality. What doesn’t kill you only makes you more complacent. The National Weather Service knows this is but a night together with you, not a whole life. For what we have in this moment is (truer) than rain, but deeper than thunder. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Blah, blah, blah. I’m not saying the morning will not hurt. I’m only saying the joy of memory is stronger than the prick of any (plate) upon my heart. This has been a severe weather warning from the national weather service. Stay tuned to the station for further updates.

I love you. I have always loved you. And now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

[beeps]

Cecil: And that is what I saw in the mirror that day. And why I do not like to go near mirrors. Ever.

[sighs] I never told that story to anyone before. I hope it has kept you company throughout this treacherous night. I hope it has kept you warm. Just knowing you’re listening somewhere out there in the cold dark has kept me warm. Stay safe, wherever you are. Good night, Night Vale… [shivers] Good night.

Today’s proverb: Who called it Snowpiercer instead of Chris Evans’s Polar Express?

[lachlann-macnab]

Task #16 Jukebox Musical/TV or Movie Soundtrack: come up with a playlist of at least 10 songs, write a scene summary to go with each one. Disclaimer under the cut.

Disclaimer: I, once again, decided to abuse the system. Nowhere on the prompt does it say that the scenes have to be related to a character I have, that's why I present to you: "The prompt, but short stories done with characters Jean would love to write but doesn't have the time to actually have".

Also, weeb rights.

*King  (English cover) -Will Stetson John Kingsbury 

Watch your back no warning warning Taking all my stress there's only just one thing to do Brace yourself for all my love's attack now Left side right side Bear your fangs it's time to fight Pa - pa - pa parade in shame tonight Left side. Right side. Bear your fangs and come alive Pa- pa - pa, Hah! You are king!

Mother always did like Richard best. 

Screw that, everyone always did like Richard best, even John liked his brother more than he liked himself. Even so, when he had been declared MIA during a mission with The Order, John quickly became the first option (the only option) for everyone -he was on cloud nine.

His new comrades didn't quite like him, but John didn't quite mind since he'd make sure that by the end of that year they'd be kneeling to him. Just  like he'd make sure that Richard never, ever came back, even if that meant making allies with a certain policeman and some Magicks whose information he'd make sure to erase from The Order's databases.

Pa, pa- pa Hah! He was (finally) King!

*La mer - Julio Iglesias cover  Basil Rathbone 

Mrs. Judson would have never expected to hear Julio Iglesias, of all things, coming from the flat. It was a strangely cheerful song for someone like Basil to hear, being the snob (not only musical, but general snob) he'd always been.

She was unsure about whether she really wanted to open the door, suddenly afraid of what she might find on the other side. Sometimes Basil would be immersed reading files upon files upon files, sometimes he would be languishing on the sofa while staring blankly at the roof, sometimes he would be walking around while talking to himself in a very obvious bout of mania -he was a wild card, that Basil, and the fact that she simply couldn't guess what he'd do next always worried her.

Worried as she was, she opened the door.

She found Basil staring at the portrait that hung just above the chimney, just...watching it. 

"I have always quite admired Le Carré's works" Basil merely said, without even looking at Mrs. Judson and instead keeping his attention on his own personal Karla while the song went on and on, silently hurting in all of the right places.

*Everybody loves me - OneRepublic  Kuzco Apaza

Get down, Swaying to my own sound Flashes in my face now All I know is everybody loves me Everybody loves me

Kuzco was on a roll. 

He felt the stares as he made the street his personal catwalk and kept (very loudly) chatting with his lawyers on the other side of the phone. The sun was shining surprisingly strongly that day (surprisingly for that side of the world, that is), it's rays hit his jewelry and clothes and made him shine almost as strongly as the star itself.

There was no way anyone could ignore him. And he couldn't blame them -he was fabulous! A gift of the gods themselves, almost as brilliant as the sun and twice (no, thrice) as charming!

...and he was shouting his plans to build a waterpark on Atlantis Lake. And, sure, people didn't seem to love the idea quite yet, but...?

At least they were staring. And they'd eventually learn to love him.

*Dramaturgy (English cover) - Will Stetson Hans Westergård 

All alone now no one’s looking, act out in greed deceiving all their eyes But there’s no real me that You’ll find if you believe and I can’t find a single role that showed what’s really there to see

He caught the eyes of his reflection by accident.

Hans had tilted his head and his eyes had almost immediately found his own reflection against the showcases, making him forget about his date (what was her name again? He couldn't, for the life of him, remember that but he certainly did remember how much her net-worth was and which medicines she needed to take at what hours of the day, just like her previous beau had needed to do before the "accident" had happened) and focus instead on his own eyes.

The thing is...he couldn't find anything in there; The baby blue went on and on but there was nothing beyond- behind it-

-when he moved his gaze, however, he found that he was smiling even if he didn't felt like it. And that his carefully selected clothes looked as they had been designed just for him to wear (and they had), and that his globed hands were still holding his date's recent purchases inside the yellow bag even if he found every item utterly tacky and a ridiculous expense.

He was smiling and looking good and doing perfectly. So why did finding his own gaze him the same effect as placing a mirror in front of another, creating a ever going loop of emptiness?

Was he not playing his part correctly? What could possibly fill that void?

*My Neighbor Totoro/Azumi Inoue Music Box ver - R3 Music Box Totoro Seishin 

Totoro decided to take a nap under the sun while Chu and Chibi were busy playing with some squirrels. It was a sunny day and there was no place he'd rather be but outside, basking and feeling the grass under him.

At one point, however, he felt some extra weight on him. He didn't feel like moving or particularly offended by something deciding to lay on him, it was just amusing.

He couldn't be bothered to open both eyes, so he only opened one, finding a sleeping girl against his chest as if that was the most normal thing to do.

He smiled, closed his eye and decided that was quite fine by him.

*Delusion Girl - Oktavia Cover (TW Suicide and Mental Illness) Bernard Newhart

Every hero knows when they’re needed, so, that’s just what he’s born to be A man who manages throwing out his hand, Who doesn’t care if his own life is spared Such a feat like that, it’s a selfless act only completed in dreams And it stays like that for me With a crash I’m trapped back in reality

Bernard wanted to help, he really did. He just...didn't always know how. Nor did he know if it really matter.

His partner always seemed to be five steps ahead and the Australian she'd taken a fancy to was just like her, if not a couple of steps ahead of even her. And it made Bernard feel like a third wheel, to question if he was really doing something worthy, if he had done something, anything sufficiently good ever and-

-he caught the girl's cellphone before she ever noticed it had slid out of her hands. And soon enough he was getting hugged and receiving many 'thank you's and- and maybe that was enough?

*The Lost One's Weeping (English Cover) - Will Stetson (TW   Depression) Martin Ambrosius (Merlin)

And no matter how much time passes us by, We’re drunk on sweet and hypnotic lies. With all our sources of hardened pride We try to erase and hide now

Martin would always act indignant at the question, and would always reply with a 'I am under no obligation to use my magic to explain or prove anything to the likes of you'.

He was Merlin's blood, for fuck's sake! He didn't have anyone to prove anything to save for maybe the Once and Future King himself!

Oh how he hoped, deep, deep inside, that he would never wake, that he would never ask any questions, that he would never do anything but keep dreaming his mythical dream and let him live his unmagic life.

He was a showman, he loved smoke and light and mirrors, he could fool anyone, anytime -but he knew that wouldn't be enough if (when) the time came, that the Once and Future King would need an actual advisor, an actual wizard.

He prayed that day never came to pass.

*When you're evil - Aurelio Voltaire Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz

It gets so lonely being evil What I'd do to see a smile Even for a little while And no one loves you when you're evil I'm lying through my teeth! Your tears are all the company I need

"Ah, Perry the Platypus! Don't shake too much or you'll make the laser sharks angry and- no, hey! the insurance doesn't cover laser damage to the roo- yeah, that's better thank you. You might be wondering what this is all about- you see, noone has decided to play ME so far so- BEHOLD, THE HEINZ DOOFEN-INATOR! (patent pending) WITH THIS DEVICE I SHALL HIJACK ONE UNLUCKY ROLEPLAYER'S DRAFTS AND SLOWLY BUT SURELY CONSUME THE WHOLE THING THEN THE OTHER POSTS ON THE DASH, THEN THE WHOLE BEING DISNEY PAGE, THEN- HEY! HEY, DON'T DO THA- I'M NOT DONE WITH MY EVIL MONOLOGUE!"

*DEAD HAND - anakin ft. IA English (Ferry Cover)  (TW  Nuclear Warfare mention) Major Francis Monogram

Oh this is overwhelming, time for the iron curtain call The panic is seeping through the fractured border wall My livid heart powers this reactor core “Oh this is all wrong” but I don’t mind at all Turn up the volume, execute the protocol You know it’s M.A.D. and it’s all about to blow What an unfortunate way to end this show I shed a tear as you vanish in the snow

Francis had zero interest in dealing with anyone's shit (save for his own or his son's, that is) ever again; He'd done his time and the whole thing during the fucking Cold War had done a number on his nerves.

He still could remember how all seemed lost, an adequately mad situation (of Mutually Assured Destruction, that is) had come to pass and everyone in the HQ was losing his mind and running around like a bunch of headless chickens-

-until he very calmly pressed a couple of buttons and the thing was ok once more. Some people cried, some people laughed, some people shouted.

(Dramatic bitches, all of them. They didn't have to cause a scene just because of the fucking coffee machine)

That was one of many situations that made him love his retirement and not want to let go of it.

*Gasoline - Halsey (Captain) John Silver

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being With your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline

'Phantom limb pain' sounded way cooler than it actually was. Silver would rather call it 'a pain in the ass' any day, but that'd be a misnomer since what hurt was his stupid (lack of) arm and not his ass and he was not risking some smartass trying to make a joke about his butt, thank you very fucking much.

Like, fuck, 'phantom pain' could be a sick name for a metal (heh) band. And hiding things inside his prosthetic was one of the few perks the whole thing offered, just like the fact that he could smack people with the thing without having to bother about hurting himself or dealing with that pain.

However, during that cold night he couldn't think of any possitives about the damned thing and cursed his rotten luck, his (lack of) arm and the thoughts that came along with them.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Thirteen | Nuclear ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Verse: In the Fallout ] [ Vulgarity, gun, gore ]

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“Hey!”

Glancing up from his cards, Obito scowls. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” And by ‘something’, he means a game of poker. He’s in a good position, and he really doesn’t want to be interrupted. If he can win the pot, he’ll get away with far more than he first put in.

“Fine, just...hurry up, will you? I’ve got news.”

“Yeah yeah” Obito replies blithely, adjusting his hand. “It can wait.”

Rolling his remaining eye, Kakashi turns to the barkeeper. “Whiskey.” Might as well do something in the interim. He sits backward on his stool, watching the game. Obito bets the rest of his cash, earning uncertain glances from the other three players. And then one by one, they all fold.

Grinning and deepening the scars on his face, Obito slaps down his cards. “Straight flush, bitches! Fork it over!”

Kakashi gives a slow shake of his head.

With a great deal of grumbling, they all shove the pot to Obito, who rakes it in greedily. “Pleasure, gentlemen. Until next time.” Pocketing his winnings, he sits beside Kakashi just as the bottle is delivered. “Guess this is on me!”

“Wonderful. Now can you give me five minutes to explain something to you?”

“Depends on if I get drunk in five minutes,” is Obito’s counter, knocking back a shot.

“Just...don’t get too hasty. All right?”

The Uchiha gives his friend a look. “The hell’s got you so worked up?”

“A new place to plunder, that’s what. Word is, it hasn’t been touched yet. And you know what that means.”

Pouring another shot, Obito slows. “...what is it?”

“Some old lab. Pre-war. Supposedly a lot of good tech certain folks would be more than happy to get their hands on. There’s a building on the surface that’s been hit, but some old wanderer I met tells me the real load is underneath, in the actual lab no one’s bothered to look for.”

“And if it’s some well-kept secret, how’d this old geezer know about it?” Obito counters, looking skeptical as he knocks back another shot.

��He’s a loner. Found it by accident, but there’s...complications. He couldn’t do much with it, so he sold me the info.”

Immediately, Obito deadpans. “...so you took the word of some crackpot old man about a secret lab and paid him for it? Kakashi, that is the stupidest fucking -!”

“Keep your voice down!” the Hatake hisses, shoving Obito’s head toward the counter and earning a grunt. “I already scoped it out before I came here. Seems pretty damn legit to me. If we can find even a few pieces of tech -?”

“I don’t want tech,” Obito spits. “I want cash, Kakashi!”

“Then you sell the tech for it, you dumbass! Not everything is a quick cash grab! Sometimes you have to work for it, huh? Think about it. This stuff is pre-war - undamaged by any nuclear fallout or blasts. Just sitting there. There are plenty of people who would die to have it.”

“Which means finding them, first! You wanna haul all that junk around before you have a buyer?”

“The hell do you think caches are for, huh? Why is every conversation I have with you an argument...why are we even partners?”

“I ask myself the same thing!”

The pair reach a deadlock, glowering at each other.

“...let’s just check it out. If you’re not happy with it, fine. But I want to at least see if we can turn a profit on anything. Because your gambling isn’t always so fruitful.”

“And neither is your spending money on supposed tips. But yeah, sure, let’s go.” Obito slaps the money for the whiskey on the table, taking the rest of the bottle with him.

He might need it.

Outside the dusty bar in the remnants of a town, they start walking, Kakashi pulling out a worn map. “It’s right out here, a few miles out.”

“Won’t it be dark by the time we get there?”

“We’ll just camp in what’s left of the building. Then we’ll have a full day to check things out.”

“More like a full day to waste…”

“I heard that.”

“Good!”

The rest of the walk is done in a stony silence, neither of them willing to concede any ground. And as the sun sets, the lab looms up atop a hill. All of the windows are smashed, part of the right side collapsed.

“Looks like a shitshow,” Obito remarks, earning a sigh from his companion. “Something this obvious has surely been picked clean.”

“On the surface, sure. But it seems no one ever realized there was more underground.”

“And how did some random old man figure this out?”

“Because he actually sat and read the documents in this place. Realized there was more to it. You think anyone else is going to care about that kind of thing?”

“I know I wouldn’t.”

Kakashi gives a brief lift of his arms in defeat. “...yeah well, exactly.”

“So he didn’t have the physical means to take advantage, or…?”

“According to him, it was ‘too stressful’. Which, to be fair, could mean...a number of things. There might be lingering security down there. Structure might be faulty. Flooded. No idea until we look.”

Obito grumbles. “When are you gonna learn that people being vague rarely means good things?”

“Well after last week, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Hey, I’m making up for last week!”

“And until you do, we’re giving this a shot.”

Heaving a sigh, the Uchiha decides to just play along, moving to gather some broken wood to get a fire going. The sooner he lets Kakashi play this out, the sooner they can get moving again. The wasteland is vast, and opportunities can easily pass one by. And he’d prefer something a bit more exciting than rummaging around some old science junk.

Once they cook some of their rations and find dry, level places to unfurl their bedrolls, the pair of them hunker down for the night.

And like every day since the bombs fell, the sun rises again, scorching the Earth’s devastated surface.

By the time Obito rises, Kakashi’s already been up, examining some documents with his one remaining eye. “You’re up early. Now I know you’re serious.”

“No day like the present,” Kakashi rebukes. “Seems they were working on some kind of DNA...stuff. I dunno, I’m not a scientist.”

“Obviously. Which is why this stuff is just money to you, not of actual interest.”

“And which is why you shouldn’t complain, because money is money. Now help me find the way down.”

“You haven’t found it yet?!”

“No! I found the documents. Which confirm there’s something under this building. The only question is where, specifically.”

“...I’m gonna punch you,” Obito mutters. “Can’t we just take a sledgehammer to the floor?”

“Do you have a sledgehammer?”

“...no.”

“Then the answer is no. Come on, it can’t be that hard.”

They spread out, looking for any manner of descent. Obito checks doors in search of an elevator shaft, Kakashi attempting to find stairs.

In the end, it’s Kakashi who’s successful.

“Over here!”

Obito closes the gap, revealing Kakashi pointing to a button. “...and? This place obviously doesn’t have any pow-”

With a bop of the end of his closed fist, Kakashi pushes the button.

A grating whine sounds, and the floor before them quivers. Then slowly, it slides back beneath the floor beyond it, revealing...stairs.

“...what the hell…?”

“Weird lab, weird stairs, weird power,” Kakashi replies with a shrug. “Look, there’s even lights. How convenient.”

“And you wanna go down there?!”

“Yes, yes I do. Stay up here if you want, you big baby. We’ve been in shadier places before and you’ve been fine.”

“Shady people I can handle,” Obito retorts, following as Kakashi begins to descend. “It’s shady stuff that weirds me out. You can’t just kill shady stuff.”

“You can break it. Same difference.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!”

Down and down they descend, the staircase having switchbacks every ten feet down or so. Obito watches their surroundings suspiciously. The air is cool and pleasant, which...is odd. No dust, no smoke, and perhaps even slightly humid. Nothing like the stale, dry air above.

After who knows how many flights...they reach a door.

Kakashi presses an ear to it, listening. “...don’t hear anything.”

“It better not be locked.”

Testing the knob, Kakashi feels it turn in his grip. “...seems not.” Just in case, he draws a pistol from his hip. Obito, in tandem, takes out his trusted machete.

Inside...it’s like another world. Clean, immaculate, and almost entirely made of metal. Desks are neatly arranged, with all manners of equipment seemingly left just as they were before the war.

“...wow,” Obito has to offer, tone breathy in amazement. “This is…”

“Yeah. Never seen anything like it.” Approaching one of the desks, Kakashi finds more documents. “...‘genetic enhancement and manipulation’. That sounds...ominous.”

Obito, in the meantime, works his way further in. Computers, diagnostic equipment, and who knows what else is everywhere, pristine and spotless. It almost freaks him out. Opening another door, his face pales.

“...uh...Kakashi…?”

“Hm?”

“...you need to see this.”

Gun still drawn, Kakashi approaches, trying to look over Obito’s shoulder. “What?”

Wordlessly, Obito steps inside, pushing the door open further and letting his partner past him.

It’s a long, narrow room. In the middle is more tech neither of them could begin to name, but...it looks serious. A few metal tables the length of a person stand nearby. And along the other three walls are a series of glass tubes filled with an off-green liquid. Within them...are rotting bodies.

“...Christ,” Kakashi can’t help but mutter. “Looks like these all got left behind.”

Obito, only half listening, works his way in. “...is it just me, or...does it get less bad the further you go…?”

“What?”

“Look.” He points. While the first few tubes are nothing but cloudy liquid with skeletons and deteriorated flesh, he’s right. The decomposition seems less and less the more they circle around. At the top of the tubes, screens are empty of power, clearly drained over time. Until -

“Oh shit!”

The very. Last. Tube. Above it, the panel flashes red in warning. Power is almost completely drained. But within the tank, seemingly in some kind of suspended animation...is a person.

Slightly curled into a fetal position the body - seemingly female - floats weightlessly in the fluid. A series of wires are strung into their flesh, and a mask with a tube provides oxygen. And bubbles occasionally release as she exhales.

“...holy fuck.”

“How can this be possible? The bombs dropped over a hundred years ago. And whoever this is, they look no older than us!”

“Maybe some kind of...delayed development?” Kakashi muses, still staring. “I have no idea. But you know what this means…? This is probably the only living person from before the war. Untouched by radiation. You know how valuable that would be to the right people? People trying to find ways to -?”

“What?! You wanna turn her over to a bunch of freaks in lab coats? Kakashi, she’s never even been outside this tube. You really think she should just be shuffled off to another one to be studied? That’s fucked up!”

“You’re the one who wanted this whole thing to be worthwhile and make us some cash!”

“Yeah, with tech. Not with people! We might as well be like the slavers at that point, and fuck that.”

Sighing, Kakashi runs a hand back through the mess of his hair. “So, what...you wanna just let her out and wish her luck on her way? You think taking someone like this and just...turning them loose in this world is fair, either?”

“I dunno! But I’m not gonna sell her as a lab rat, Kakashi. No fucking way.”

“Then what, leave her here? Seems she’s got a few days left of power. Less now that we’ve sucked some up with the lights and the stairs.”

“And let her turn into goop like the rest of these poor bastards?”

“There really doesn’t seem to be any fair option here, Obito. So make up your mind. You found her, you decide.”

Obito balks, heart leaping to his throat. He didn’t ask for this…!

“You better hurry because we’re running out of lights down here the longer we dawdle. I’m gonna go pack up what I can. You figure this out.”

“But -?!” Reaching out, he’s denied as Kakashi heads back into the other room. “...ugh, damn it!” Huffing a breath, he turns back to the tube.

Given she’s likely never had any light, the woman is pale as milk. And...maybe for the same reason, so is the rest of her: long, wavy hair almost seems to glow in the strange fluid. It’s a bit hard to tell given how much she’s floating, but it almost seems to be as long as she is tall.

...then again, he figures she’s never had a haircut.

...he can’t leave her here. And he won’t let her get snapped up by some freak wanting to study her like a bug in a jar. So, that leaves one option. Looking at the right side of the tank, Obito finds a kind of keypad: maybe a mechanism for opening the door? Cuz something tells him just...smashing the glass isn’t smart. “Uh…”

He needs a password.

Moving to the equipment, he shuffles through a bunch of papers, opening a filing cabinet and finding folders for the specimens. Glancing to her tube, he finds the number, a finger tracing down the paper until -

“Two four seven three,” he murmurs, repeating it under his breath until he’s back at the keypad, pressing the keys in sequence.

A loud beep sounds, and he startles as massive bubbles flood up from the floor of the tube. The liquid, it’s...it’s draining! She slowly sinks to a tangle of limbs at the bottom.

And then, with a pressurized hiss, the glass swings open, and she nearly tumbles out.

“Oh, shit -!” Kneeling, he manages to catch her, nose wrinkling at the smell of...whatever she was in. And she’s wet. Eugh.

Carefully, he starts taking out the wires, wincing as the sites bleed. And off comes the mask, letting her breathe air on her own for the first time.

“What the hell is -?”

“Kakashi! Find a rag or something, she’s bleeding wherever I take the wires out.”

Seeing that Obito apparently made up his mind, Kakashi sighs and finds a dispenser of paper towels. Handing those over, he then grabs one of the abandoned lab coats.

Since she is, after all, completely nude.

Obito mops her off, trying to wipe both blood and mystery liquid off her skin, going pink as he nears anything intimate. Once she’s a bit cleaner, he lifts her up and lets Kakashi help him get her as dressed as they can manage. A spare bit of cable ties it shut around her waist.

“...why isn’t she waking up?” the Uchiha then asks.

“No idea. Maybe she’s dead?”

“No, no - she’s breathing.”

“Try slapping her.”

Obito shoots him a look. “...hey, miss? Uh...hello?”

No response, her head lolling around on her neck.

“...well, let's - let’s get her back upstairs. Then we can come back down for any stuff you wanna haul out.”

“I’ve got a few bags full. And you’re gonna have to keep an eye on her. I’ll make a few trips in the meantime.”

“...all right.” Hefting her up on his back, Obito begins the ascent back to the surface, admittedly sad to leave the clean air behind.

Well...he has a person. Now what?

Back in their camp, he lays her on his bedroll. Her hair is still wet, and he mulls it over before turning her on her side. Deft fingers then start braiding. Once she has a long tail of plait, he ties it off with some wire. There...that’ll keep it from getting too out of hand.

“...mn…”

He stiffens. Is...is she waking up? “H-hello?”

Her eyelids twitch, leading him to notice her white lashes. Then they open to reveal a soft pair of grey eyes.

...Obito then realizes that she’s likely got no memories, no language...nothing.

Oh boy.

“...uh...hi?” he greets sheepishly, lips briefly flickering up into a smile. “...I’m Obito.”

Completely blank, she stares at him.

“...you, uh…” He sighs, rubbing his neck. “...can you...understand me?”

More unaware staring.

“Aw, crap. Well, uh…” Adjusting to sit cross-legged, he puts a hand to his chest. “...Obito.”

Her eyes drop to his hand, then back to his face.

“Obito.”

“...O...bito…”

He perks up. “Yeah!”

“...yeah.”

...okay, maybe she’s just copying him. Thinking it over for a moment, he recalls a book he got to read a while back, stolen from a camp they’d stayed at. It had a heroine, and her name was…

He then (very shyly) puts a hand to her chest. “...Ryū.”

Again, she looks to the hand, then back to him. “...R...Ryū…?”

A nod. “Ryū.” Hand back to his own chest. “Obito.”

“Okay, I’ve got the first -”

Obito points. “Kakashi.”

Following the gesture, Ryū sees Kakashi freeze. She also points. “...Kakashi!”

Amused, Obito bursts out laughing, clapping his hands and making her startle. “Hahaha! You got it!”

“Well this is going to be fun,” Kakashi mutters. “You’ve got an adult with the mental awareness of a baby.”

“She’ll learn!”

“With you as her teacher, that scares me.”

“Then you’ll just have to help, Kakashi.”

Sighing, he approaches and sits nearby. He points to Obito. “Idiot.”

“Hey -!”

“I...diot?”

“No!” Obito cuts in, waving his hands.

“Yes, idiot,” is Kakashi’s reply, laughing as Obito shoves him.

“...Obito.”

The pair pause, looking to her. By now, she’s more bright-eyed, clearly curious. She points. “Obito.” Her hand moves. “...Kakashi.”

Obito then points to her. “Ryū!”

“What kind of a name is -?”

“It’s her name! I got it from a book, okay?”

“All right, all right...guess you get the right. But we need to get her some supplies. And we better keep her out of the sun for too long for a while, let her get used to it.”

“Yeah…” There’s a lot to think about.

“...well, welcome to the nuclear waste dump that is Earth,” Kakashi offers. “You’ll learn to love it. Or hate it. Likely both. But at least you won’t turn into soup like your friends.”

Obito’s nose wrinkles. “...okay, but...let’s never tell her about that part once she understands, okay? It’ll only upset her.”

“Fine. Now, I’m gonna haul up some more stuff. Be on your best behavior.” Kakashi points warningly to the two of them.

“Kakashi!” Ryū replies, watching him go.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back. Sadly,” Obito notes with a snort. Elbow on his knee and chin in his palm, he watches as Ryū takes in her surroundings, and then starts fiddling with anything within reach: debris, his bag...and then him.

He stiffens, but lets her curiously prod at him. She pulls at his clothes, seemingly understanding it’s separate from him. Then he takes his hand in her hands, turning it over and back before comparing it to her own.

...then she moves to his face.

Unlike the rest of her touches, these are more...hesitant. Careful. She seems to know it’s a bit more fragile. Eyes roam over it, drinking in his image.

“...ugly, huh?” he murmurs, knowing she can’t understand.

But she doesn’t flinch, a hand tracing along the ridges of his scars.

“Got those from a mutant. Plus a lot more you can’t see. It’s how Kakashi lost his eye, too. But he can tell you about that.”

She pauses to listen, but doesn’t comprehend. “...Obito.”

“...mhm. That’s me.”

More touches to his face, and then, tone softer, “...Obito…”

Blinking, he feels his face get warm. “...uh…?”

The phenomenon surprises her, jolting before pressing her palms to his cheeks, squishing them slightly to feel the heat.

And then she giggles.

It’s a sweet, chime-like sound. And Obito immediately adores it. “...you’re so cute,” he mumbles.

“...cute?”

“...uh -?”

“All right, I think that’s all we can reasonably carry. Especially since she can’t really...uh…” Kakashi perks a brow. “...am I interrupting something?”

Flustered, Obito leans back from her grip. “No!”

“...then let’s get ready to go.”

By the time they finish packing up, the afternoon is fading into evening. Obito draws a spare cloak over Ryū to keep her out of the sun. “There we go.”

“Ready?” his partner asks.

“I guess so.” The pair start walking, and...Obito realizes she’s not following. “Aw, jeez...uh…” Heading back, he holds out a hand.

After a pause, she does the same.

“Come on,” he mumbles, taking her grip and urging her to keep up.

“Obito!”

“...yup.”

     Okay not gonna lie, I...did not have high hopes for this prompt, but by the end I really enjoyed it xD I don’t, uh...participate much in the apocalypse genre (besides watching my brother play Fallout 4 lmao) so I don’t have much imagery to go off of. So I gave it my best shot .w.      While kinda gross in the middle there, it turned out cute by the end xD Obito’s got his work cut out for him, bahaha! But that’s all for today - thanks for reading!

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations BECKY! You’ve been accepted as VENUS.

Becky’s back, back again. Becky’s back, tell a friend! Now that I got that out of the way, I can make this a serious acceptance note. I can honestly say there was not a moment while reading this app that I didn’t think your Hana was it. Hana is obsessed with power and the way you hit on that through her bio had me on the edge of my seat. You created this storm of a girl that I want to know more about even if I know the danger associated with her. Both of us are beyond excited to see the “human embodiment of pikachu with anger issues” on the dash!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Becky

PRONOUNS: she / her

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT ( but technically GMT +1 currently bc summer! ); online daily, particularly active atm because ya girl is working from home

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Venus / Hana Mercado

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Female; she/her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Even in a city like Miami, Hana is hard to miss in a crowd. Bubblegum bursts, her lazy chew concealing the switchblade sharp smirk that slides across her mouth a little too late for anyone to be able to avoid the trouble that comes from it. She thinks she’s wired up wrong, like a casino gambling machine full of bullets that just keeps dishing out violence while playing its disjointed electric-warped song of congratulations, bright lights flashing wildly.

To your left, a man walking his pet leopard down the sidewalk; to the right, Hana Mercado paralysing a man with the touch of a fingertip for wolf-whistling her. She fits in well here, Florida born and raised, helping the drug lords keep their territories and the mutants keep their identities and everyone and anyone in between keep what’s left of their slowly unravelling sanity. Despite the bustling sea of tourists that ebbs and flows with the good weather, it’s easy to feel lonely. Hana isn’t great when it comes to other people. Pushing them away is a lot less difficult than making them stay.

Everything is loud. Everything is bright. The electricity is near palpable as she splashes through the remnants of a thunderstorm, rainwater spraying over fresh white sneakers. She’s quiet when the sun sets, bleeding red across the sky, the colour of the popsicles she’d eat for dinner as a kid. It’s hard to fear the consequences of her actions when she’s as close to a young god as anyone’s ever going to get. Mutants? Deities? Same difference if you know how to play to the right narrative.

Fuck you has always been easier to spit than a genuinely spoken I love you and that’s the honest-to-fuck truth.

[ + ] driven / brave / resilient / passionate [ - ] arrogant / reckless / unpredictable / childish

BIO:

Money is power. And power is power. And electricity? The sort that decorates the country like a spiderweb, an interwoven network of wires, all humming, all singing to her, the siren’s call of greatness from above ground and beneath it? Power.

Hana is a vicious formation of blood and desire, with the scent of someone burning from the inside inhaled like a nicotine hit. Interrogation comes naturally to her; smiles that should be sweet on a face like hers turn sharp and deadly. She likes to hear them beg. To watch them shake. People spill their secrets to her whether they like it or not.

It’s been that way since she was nineteen years old, static dancing between her fingertips after getting too riled up in an argument with a neighbour’s son over stealing her family’s gas cylinder. An impromptu lightning strike had left the tarmac lining the trailer park sizzling, black and sticky like summertime ( and don’t worry, the Cheeto-dust-decorated-rude-mouthed-slacker-of-a-punk-ass-brat had survived – getting hit by lightning suddenly made him interesting, too, so if anything she’d been doing him a favour ).

A freak accident, they’d called it. Another one of those unexpected Florida storms. But she knew better than that. As had her mom, smoking a fresh pack of Camel Blues from the other side of the door’s insect screen, fresh foils in her hair, acrylic nails the colour of the algae in the neglected community pool down the street. Thinking back, maybe this all stemmed from swallowing too much of that fucking nuclear-waste-looking water when she’d dared to swim there as a kid, hot and sweaty as a storm breaks on the horizon.

But the point – the point is that, to her mom, having the human embodiment of Pikachu as a daughter was as good as winning a jackpot at one of her weekly bingo sessions. She tries to sell it. Power. The ability to pluck electricity from charged particles in the air makes her daughter useful. A living battery. Studies on mutants at University of Miami dish out hefty paychecks after the right terms and conditions have been signed ( note: if you die, that’s on you, don’t try to sue us ). Hana attempts to protest but even she can’t deny that the allure of getting rich sounds like a dream come true.

So she goes to college. Not in the usual sense, sure, but she gets to live on campus ( in a secure underground testing facility beneath the BioMed building ) and hang out with others ( mostly mutants ) her age. And it’s fine for a while until simple fitness tests and blood sampling turn more extreme. Some days are hazy, pumped full of drugs and hooked up to machines that she doesn’t know the name of, let alone the purpose, beeping their own idle hospital-like symphony. Other days are dark and quiet, plunged into sensory deprivation for the sake of whatever it is the boffins in their lab coats are trying to figure out.

She’ll get rich or die trying and, ironically, neither of those things happens.

When the anti-mutant-testing protestors storm the building, they free Hana from both the confinement and the contract. The money she was supposed to get at the end of all this vanishes, along with the pleased looking humans who pat themselves on the back for doing a good deed and disappear to go and celebrate. None of them ask her if this was what she wanted. None of them stop to think that maybe liberation was never an option for her.

Her mom’s gone too. A new trailer stands where Hana’s home once had. The monthly paychecks from the university never reached her bank account, instead wired directly to Mrs Mercado. She laughs until she cries, the air crackling overhead.

After all that, turning to a life of crime is far easier than it has any right to be. Angry and alone, she fucks a guy in a gang in the back of his drop-top and makes herself useful when it comes to getting money out of those who owe it. She runs from the cops. Has a gun pressed to her temple. Watches an illegal weed farm burn at the flick of a lighter. Nothing phases her because she doesn’t let it. Rules stop meaning anything when you realise just what having powers can get you. Making a living from getting spineless people to open up their mouths and offer the gold that is information makes her feel a little less like a failure. Interrogation has a nice ring to it, after all. And once she makes a name for herself, sought after by those who know that secrets are worth a decent stack of bills – well – who is she to turn a job down?

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

YVETTE. It’s more than just the sticky sweet sugar of sisterhood. Hana would fight tooth and nail for Yvette should she say the word; would go to war for her if needed. There are very few people in the world that she cares about more than herself, but her partner ( in crime, in the sport of bringing their enemies down, in a vodka-tasting kiss that she’s managed to take a little too far ) holds the throne to Hana’s adoration. If only Yvette would take another step further into chaos and embrace becoming the seductive sort of danger that people run from.

ANDREAS. He knows how to say the right things, she’ll give him that. Hana wants what is hers. And sure, she may not know what that is exactly but the whispers of power he offers are captivating. After so long of operating alone for anyone with enough money to afford her services, the concept of joining strengths is a tricky one to navigate. She keeps him waiting, keeps him on his toes, avoiding a crystal clear answer for the sake of keeping her cards close to her chest. Better to have multiple options on the table than settling for the first one that comes along.

DEREK. Oh, the joy of knowing she’s the shiny new model; a glossy picture-perfect upgrade; a brand new battery to keep Damien and his clowns energised. The temptation of coaxing out Derek’s anger to watch him slip up and fall further from grace is all too great. She’ll press a cherry red lipstick kiss to the dark shades of the sunglasses he will no doubt need down here in paradise. Her future is bright, can he say the same about his own?

DAMIEN ft. JACKSON. He sends his loyal hound. She can only assume that Jackson is missing a collar because he doesn’t like wearing it in public; his Tiffany heart-shaped dog tag would probably get too warm glinting in the Miami sunshine. Hana knows a mob boss pet when she sees one, sniffing her out amongst the cheap cocktails and plastic palms of a Tiki Bar on Ocean Drive. Who’s a good boy? It’s appealing, the carefully constructed dream Damien offers. Almost a little too good to be true given the circumstances. She knows his gang has chased others out, a fine show of strength and organisation, but how long will it last when he doesn’t even know this city?

EXTRA:

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